CHAPTER I
The New Scholar
The schoolroom was very quiet except for the whisperings from many rosy lips as the children studied their lessons. Presently Miss Reese tapped the bell and immediately there was more of a commotion as sundry small skirts switched out from between the desks and several little girls took their places in class. Among them was one with fair hair who turned very red when a question was put to her by the teacher. It was Eleanor Dallas' first day in school and she was painfully shy at having to recite before others, for she had always been taught at home, and having no brothers and sisters, she felt that in the presence of twenty or more other girls that it would be impossible for her to remember how to spellparallelorseparateorconscience, and she spoke so low when Miss Reese asked her a word that she could scarcely be heard.
"A little louder, my dear," said Miss Reese; "I cannot hear you." And then, with all the girls looking at her, and, with a growing uncertainty as to whether impartial were spelled with ator ac, she could not say anything.
A titter ran around the class and poor Eleanor was in a state of abject misery. Miss Reese, however, said kindly, "Never mind, Eleanor, I will excuse you from recitations this first day, and give you a little examination after school."
"She's going to be kept in," whispered Laura Field to the girl next to her, and the words reached Eleanor's ears. She had heard of girls being kept in, and to think the disgrace had fallen upon her this first day. It was almost more than she could bear, and she sat for the rest of the period with downcast eyes to hide the tears which would keep welling up.
Recitations over, the girls flaunted out of the room with many backward glances directed toward the place where Eleanor was sitting with such a miserable little face that Miss Reese, looking up and seeing the trembling lips, felt that something out of the common must be the matter. "Come here, dear," she said. "Are you not feeling well?"
"Yes, Miss Reese," faltered Eleanor.
"I hope none of the girls have been unkind to you. The first day at school is always a trying one. I remember well enough how I felt when I was a little girl. Very much as you do, I fancy." She put her arm around the child and drew her close to her side. "Now," she said, "I will go over to-morrow's lessons with you. Your mamma has told me something of your methods of study, and since you have been using different books from these, it will be better for me to give you some idea of what we are going to do. There, now, these are your nice fresh new books. Shall I put your name in them?"
"If you please," responded Eleanor, quite interested and beginning to forget her shyness. This being kept in wasn't so dreadful after all.
Miss Reese went over all the next day's lessons and as she closed the last book a little negro girl appeared at the door. "Miss Dimple, yo' ma say, what de reason yuh ain't come home?" she said.
"I was kept in," said Eleanor rather shamefacedly.
Miss Reese laughed. "Why, my child, no you were not, at least not with the general intention that kept in means. I simply wanted to have you stay that I might go over the lessons with you. Did you think I meant it for punishment, you poor little girl?"
Eleanor looked up shyly. "I did think so," she answered. "One of the girls——" She stopped short. Her Cousin Florence had told her that it was very, very mean to tell tales about the girls, and that when she went to school she must never do it, or else the girls would dislike her.
Miss Reese noticed the sudden pause and with tact did not pursue the subject. "Now run along," she said. "To-morrow I hope you will have good recitations, and you mustn't be afraid to speak above a whisper."
True enough, the next day Eleanor was so sure of hertionsand hersionsthat she did not miss a single word, and, moreover, she made friends with two of the nicest girls who invited her to come to their own special corner to eat luncheon with them, and in a few days she felt quite at her ease. She had known several of the girls before she entered school and before long she had entirely overcome her shyness of the others. But many of the experiences were novel, especially those which occurred in the big schoolroom where the whole school assembled to take part in the physical exercises, to listen to lectures or to view certain experiments in physics. Eleanor never forgot her first experience when the subject of electricity was before the school, and she was invited to stand upon a board set upon four tumblers, and after a contact with the electrical apparatus found her hair slowly rising on end. Seeing her startled look, one of her best friends among the larger girls, Hattie Spear, dropped on her knees and held out her arms. Eleanor threw herself into them and at the same moment Hattie gave her a kiss, then she gave a little scream and the girls all laughed, for Eleanor had given her friend an electric shock.
It took Mr. Dallas some time to explain the matter to his little daughter that evening, and she watched for the next thunderstorm with much interest, for she wanted to show off all this knowledge to Bubbles. "You know it's electricity that makes the lightning," she told her.
"Law, Miss Dimple, how you know that?" returned Bubbles.
"Papa told me. Just think, Bubbles, it is the same thing that makes the light burn in the electric lamps."
"Is dat so?" Bubbles raised her hands and appeared to be much impressed. Then after some moments given to thought, she said, "What you say de name of de man what makes de street lights, and de lightnin'? Mr. Elick Cristy? Whar he live?"
Eleanor looked at her quite puzzled, and then she laughed, but she did not offer any explanation, for at that moment her mother called her. But after that Bubbles always spoke of Mr. Elick Cristy's lights out on the street corner.
Eleanor's pet name at home was Dimple, but Mrs. Dallas felt that there was danger of her little daughter's becoming altogether known by it, and had asked Miss Reese to call her Eleanor. Dimple felt that this was a step toward young ladyhood, and was very particular to instruct Bubbles to call her Miss Eleanor upon every occasion. But Bubbles would forget and upon the very first rainy day appeared at school with an umbrella for "Miss Dimple."
"That's a funny little colored girl," said one of Eleanor's schoolmates. "I've seen her often but I never knew that she lived at your house."
"She has lived with us ever since I was a baby. She is quite a nice child," returned Eleanor in a dignified little way. "Come here, Bubbles, and put on my waterproof."
"Miss Dimple, yo' ma give me a ribbon fo' Floridy Alabamy, dis mawnin', an' she got one fo' you too," said Bubbles in a confidential tone.
"Has she?" returned Dimple indifferently. "You may carry my books, Bubbles. I am going to walk with Janet." Bubbles took the books and trotted along obediently behind the two girls. Janet was a new arrival in town and being lately entered at school Eleanor had a fellow feeling for her.
"Do you ever play with her?" asked Janet. "And she calls you Dimple; what does she do that for?"
"They call me that at home, and, yes, I play with her sometimes."
"Oh, do you?" said Janet looking surprised. "I believe I'll call you Dimple," she added.
"No, please don't. Mamma doesn't want any one to, because she says when I grow up it will sound ridiculous."
"All right, then I won't," Janet returned. "I wish you would come over to my house this afternoon."
"Oh, no, you come to mine. We can play out in my little house in the garden, even if it does rain."
"Have you a little playhouse?"
"Yes, one all my own. Papa had it built for me."
Janet was much impressed. "I'll come," she said. And the two little girls parted to meet an hour later.
It was Friday afternoon, and there were no lessons to be studied, and therefore Eleanor counted on having a fine time. "Mamma," she said, as she entered the house, "I have a new friend, at least I haven't known her very long and she has never been to see me, but she is coming this afternoon. Her name is Janet Forrester. She lives in that yellow house on Main Street, you know, the one by the church."
"Yes, I know."
"She hasn't been living in town very long, and that's why she doesn't know many people. Do you know her mother?"
"Only slightly. I have called upon her. I hope Janet is a good little girl, and one that is proper for you to associate with."
"Oh yes, she is. She wears lovely clothes, and her father keeps a carriage."
Mrs. Dallas smiled. "I don't think we can judge by either of those things. You would better play in your own little house, for your papa has come home feeling far from well, and I should like to keep the house quiet."
Eleanor looked distressed. "Oh, mamma, is he very ill? Will he have to have a doctor?"
"He will see Doctor Sullivan, but I hope he is not very ill. When your little friend has gone, come and tell me about your afternoon together, but try not to disturb me while I am with papa."
Eleanor promised, and then went down to her playhouse in the garden. It was a pretty place, and the little girl was justly proud of it. She spent much time there, and here she kept her toys, her favorite books and dolls, and here she most frequently entertained her little friends.
It was not long before Bubbles showed Janet into the room. Bubbles, too, was very proud of Miss Dimple's playhouse, and she had quite a grand air as she ushered this new acquaintance into the presence of the owner of the house, saying: "Company, Miss Dimple."
Janet looked around with a critical air, and was immediately seized with a feeling of envy. "It's a right nice little house," she said loftily, "but it isn't as big as the one I had at home in Hartford; and I had real lace curtains to my windows, and Turkey rugs on the floor. Oh, there's only one room, isn't there? My house had two. Do you keep your horse and carriage in that stable, I see out there?"
"No," Eleanor was obliged to confess. "We haven't any horse and carriage. We keep a cow and chickens, though."
"I had a pony and a little cart of my own," said Janet grandly. "How many dolls have you?"
"Six, I think."
"I have twenty. You're not going to let that nigger girl stay in here with us, are you?"
"Why, yes. She often used to play with my Cousin Florence and me."
"My mother doesn't let me play with servants," said Janet with a little haughty air.
Bubbles looked much crestfallen, but immediately retired when Eleanor said: "You needn't stay, Bubbles."
"Now, what shall we play?" said Eleanor, left alone with her guest and intent upon pleasing her.
"We'll pretend we are countesses or duchesses or something. No I choose to be a duchess, and you can be a countess. I'm company and I must be the finest lady. Duchesses are more important than countesses."
Eleanor didn't think this was very polite, but she yielded, and, furthermore, gave up her best doll to her guest. "My best doll is bigger than this," Janet remarked, "and she has a real gold chain to wear around her neck. Haven't you more than one silk dress for yours? All my dolls' dresses are silk. I think a duchess's child ought to be dressed in silk. I will have to pretend her clothes are much finer than they really are."
They played quite happily for a time, although Eleanor did not quite like the giving up of all her choicest things to her visitor, but she had been taught that her guests must always have the best of everything and she made no objections. It was toward the latter part of the afternoon that Janet suddenly exclaimed: "Oh, where is my pearl ring? It's gone."
"Really?" said Eleanor.
"Yes, I believe that servant girl, you call Bubbles, has stolen it."
"Oh, no, she couldn't have done that," Eleanor protested, quite shocked. "Not if you had it on when you came in here, and besides she wouldn't do such a thing."
"I don't know about that; anyhow, I had it on when I left home."
"Perhaps you dropped it somewhere. Let's look for it; you see it has stopped raining." But no amount of searching revealed the ring, and Janet repeated her charges against Bubbles.
"I'm just going to hunt her up, and tell her she's got it, and I'll make her give it back to me," she said.
"Oh, no, please," begged Eleanor; "I know she wouldn't take it."
"Just tell me this then. Has she never taken anything in all her life?"
Eleanor hesitated. Once Bubbles had possessed herself of some scraps which she coveted for doll clothes, but her offence had never been repeated, and Mrs. Dallas trusted her implicitly. "I know she hasn't taken it," repeated Eleanor, much distressed.
"You're just trying to shield her," said Janet. "I'm going home and get my father to send a police officer after her; that's what I'm going to do." And she flounced out leaving Eleanor in tears. Such a dreadful threat and poor Bubbles; perhaps she would have to go to prison. Eleanor's soft little heart was wrung at the thought, and she rushed up to the house to find her mother and pour the doleful tale in her ears.