CHAPTER XXV.

167CHAPTER XXV.DIPHTHERIA.

On Tuesday the regular exercises of the day were to begin. All day Monday, carriage after carriage came driving up to the academy, depositing their loads of freight,—excited girls full of the freshness and pleasure gathered from their brief holiday. The long corridors were merry with affectionate osculations. Light, happy laughs danced out from rosy lips, and arms were twined and intertwined in the loving clasp of young girls. So much to tell! So much to hear! Miss Ashton, welcoming the coming groups, called it a “Thanksgiving Pandemonium;” but she enjoyed it quite as much as any of the rioters. In the evening, when they were all together in the large parlor, she turned the gathering into a pleasant party, helped to fill it with fun and frolic, and sent even the most homesick to their rooms with smiles instead of tears.

Not a word had been said of Nellie Blair’s sickness. There is no place where a panic is more easily started and harder to control than in a girls’ school; nor is there any cause that will so surely awaken it as a case of diphtheria. Its acute suffering, its often sudden168end, its contagiousness, all combine to make it the most dreaded of diseases.

Some reason had to be given, of course, for the condition in which Marion’s room-mates found their room on their arrival, also for Marion’s removal. Miss Ashton had guardedly told them the truth, with the strictest request that they should keep it to themselves; but, in spite of her injunction, that night after the party broke up, there was not a girl in the hall who did not know and who was not alarmed by Nellie’s sickness.

Anxious groups gathered together in the corridors and discussed it. Some fled to their rooms and wrote hurried notes home, asking for leave to come back at once. The panic had begun, augmented beyond doubt by the excitement consequent on the return. Miss Ashton was besieged by girls, all anxious to know the exact state of the case, and not a few clamoring for leave to go away, even that very night, from the contagion.

Had she any less influence over this frightened crowd, or they any less trust in her wisdom and kindness, half of the rooms would have been empty before morning; but, as it was, simply by telling them the truth, that Nellie had diphtheria, but that the doctor said that it was not a malignant case, and that there was not the slightest danger of its spreading, with even ordinary care, she succeeded in so far quieting their fears that they went to their rooms, though, if she had only known it, to discuss with even more excitement169than they had shown to her the dreadful possibilities before them.

One girl actually stole out at midnight and, hurrying through the cold and darkness, went to the house of a cousin who lived near by, waking and alarming the family in a way that they found hard to forgive, and taking by this exposure so severe a cold that, serious lung symptoms developing, she was sent home, and her academical course ended. The next morning when the school gathered in the chapel, they found Dr. Dawson on the stage.

After the preliminary exercises were over, he rose, and said,—

“Young ladies, I understand you have taken fright on account of the case of diphtheria that is occurring here. I am an old man, as you see, and have had a hundred, perhaps five hundred cases as like this as two peas in a pod.” (He stopped, expecting a smile at least for his homely comparison, but every face was as sober as if he had come to sound a death-knell.) “Miss Blairissick, I might say isverysick, but I am not in the least anxious about her, or about any of you. Under ordinary circumstances, and I consider these very ordinary, I think there is not any probability of another case in the house.

“Take an old physician’s advice. Stay where you are, go promptly and faithfully about your regular duties, don’t mention the word diphtheria, and don’t think of it. If I were a life-insurance agent, I would insure those of you who obeyed my injunctions for170half the premium that I would those who worry over this, or run away. Again I say, go faithfully about your ordinary duties, and all of you” (dropping his voice into solemn tones now) “ask God to be with and protect you, and restore to you your sick companion.”

Then he took up his hat and marched down through the long, girl-bordered aisle, smiling and nodding to those he knew as he went.

On the whole, his speech did little to allay the panic. He had not only allowed that Nellie wasverysick, but he had talked about “life-insurance,” and asking God for protection. Qualms of fear followed him as he went. Miss Ashton understood the assembly better than the wise physician, and before he had closed the door she regretted that she had asked him to address them.

One part of his advice, however, was sound; that regarding to the scholars at once resuming their work, and putting diphtheria out of conversation and mind. If only good advice could or would always be taken, what a different world it would be!

Fortunately here, among these two hundred girls, there were leaders both sensible and trusted, who did follow the doctor’s advice, went at once about their studies, and ably seconded the exertions of the teachers to resume the usual routine of work.

Among the most prominent of these was Dorothy Ottley. She had that indescribable moral power over the girls which comes, and one is tempted to171say comes only, from a consistent, faithful, gentle, loving character. She did not draw to herself that impulsive love which is here to-day and gone to-morrow, so common among girls; but if any were sad or sick or in trouble they instinctively sought Dorothy, and they always found in her what they needed.

She was plain looking; her sea-browned face, her thin, light hair that wind and wave had bleached, the pathetic look that years of a hard life had stamped upon her, could not conceal, could not even dim, the strong, true soul that looked out of her gray eye, or change the effect of the honest words her lips always spoke. Now, wherever she went, the girls clustered around her, followed her example in prompt attendance on the regular duties, and somehow, no one could have told you just how, felt safer that she was there.

Marion, Miss Ashton kept from among them. If she had been exposed to the disease from Nellie’s being with her, it might be best not to allow her to mingle with the others; besides, they would shun her, and that Marion would find hard to bear. As it was not known except to her room-mates that she had returned from her vacation, this was easy to do; and so in the pleasant guest-room Marion went on with her studies without a fear of diphtheria, only thinking of, and anxious for, the sick friend.

It was Gladys who began the series of attentions that on the second day filled Nellie’s room with gifts of flowers, of fruit, of books, even of candy and172pretty toys, which the girls had already begun to gather for the coming Christmas. Miss Mason, the trained nurse, was kept busy at certain hours answering the teacher’s knock who brought the gifts and the accompanying love,—and Nellie, poor Nellie, struggling with the pain and the uncertainty, was cheered and helped by loving attentions given to her for the first time in her desolate life.

Miss Ashton, hearing every hour from the sickroom, shared in the cheer and the help; there was a reward to her in this proof of the tenderness and generosity of that wonderful woman’s nature she had made it her life’s work to develop and train.

Each day there was a bulletin put up in the hall, stating Nellie’s condition. It was always cheerful. Miss Ashton wrote,—

“Nellie is cross this morning. Dr. Dawson pronounces it the best symptom he has seen since she was taken sick.”

“Nellie has asked for a piece of that mince-pie one of you sent her. Nurse says, ‘No,’ but looks much pleased at the request.”

“Rejoicing in the hospital! a decided improvement in Nellie.”

“Nellie teases to sit up.”

“Nellie lifted onto the sofa! Dressed in my old blue wrapper! Looks white and funny.”

“Nellie sends her love and thanks to all her kind, kind friends.”173

“Nellie teasing to see Marion Parke.”

“Nellie pronounced out of danger.”

“Nellie removed to Mrs. Gaston’s, where she will stay until she is strong enough to resume her studies. Sends love and thanks.”

The next day there were rumors around the school that Marion Parke, who had been missed by this time, and accounted for, was taken sick with diphtheria, and was much worse than Nellie had ever been.

Now, of course, the panic began anew; and as many of the girls had written home and obtained leave to return, more than that, commands to do so, as the sick girl’s case was contagious, Miss Ashton found all her trouble renewed.

She had been besieged with letters from anxious parents, charging her not to trifle with their children’s lives, but by all means to send them home at once if there was the least real danger; so now she had no hesitation in letting those go who wished, indeed it was a relief to her to have the number of her school smaller, and the anxiety lessened; but now it was only a scare. Marion did have a sore throat, but it was one which comes often with an ordinary cold, and Dr. Dawson laughed at it, gave her some slight medicines, and scolded Miss Ashton for having separated her so long from the girls.

The girls gave her a wide berth, but for this Miss Ashton had prepared her, and Marion was more amused than hurt by it.174

Before a week had passed, the four room-mates were together in their old rooms, and Marion was made a heroine. All she had done for Nellie was exaggerated, with that generous exaggeration of which girls are so capable.

After all, this diphtheritic episode had only been injurious to the school inasmuch as it had broken into the regular routine, and thrown hindrances into the completion of work which was expected to be done before the coming on of the long holiday vacation.

That Christmas and New Year’s came so soon after Thanksgiving was something for the teachers to deplore; but as they were in no way responsible for it, and as indeed Christmas was a religious holiday, well in keeping with theanimusof the institution, they met it heartily, the more so than usual this year, as they hoped, the vacation over, to resume the regular course, both in study and discipline, without any further interruption.

175CHAPTER XXVI.CHRISTMAS COMING.

The Demosthenic Club had received two severe setbacks since its organization. One when Kate Underwood’s tableaux fell under Miss Ashton’s displeasure on account of the carelessness it had shown in injuring, for fun’s sake, the feelings of a schoolmate; the other when members of the club had been guilty of a flagrant breach of the rules, by the stolen sleigh-ride with the Atherton boys.

“In spite of it all,” Kate Underwood said, “we will just change its name, and go on as if nothing had happened. We are to be now the ‘Never Say Die Club.’ Vote on it, girls.”

The new name was adopted by acclamation, and several other votes were carried at the same time, all in favor of law and order, showing how truly these girls had meant to keep the promises they had made in their extremity to Miss Ashton, to be law-abiding members of the school.

They held their secret meetings as often and as secretly as their constitution demanded; they discussed all questions that the interests of the times suggested. If they had a spread, it was before study176hours, and with unlocked doors. On the whole, Jenny Barton, Kate Underwood, and Mamie Smythe took the lessons they had received into good, honest hearts, and grew, by the many resisted temptations which were born of the secrecy of their club, into better, nobler characters.

Miss Ashton, watching them with vigilant eyes, marked the improvement, and showed her value of it by greater confidence in its leading members.

There was an important meeting to be held a week before the breaking up for the Christmas vacation. It was to be in Lilly White’s room, where, indeed, most of their meetings were held, for Lilly had a room by herself, richly furnished, this being the only inducement her parents could offer her, that made her consent to the fearful ordeal of a few years at school,—to be dull and to be wealthy! Who would desire it for any child?

“You understand,” said President Jenny Barton, after the meeting was called to order, “that this is to be no common affair. It’s to be, well! it’s to be a sort of atonement for—well, for those other affairs; and, girls, if we do anything about it, let’s do it up handsome. What do you say?”

“Do it jist illigant, or let it alone,” said Mamie Smythe.

“Jist illigant!” repeated one member of the club after another, until the president said,—

“Motioned, and carried. Now for our plan. Keep it a profound secret!”177

Such a busy place as the academy became now, probably had its counterpart in every girls’ boarding-school all over the length and breadth of our land.

Where there is good discipline and good scholarship, neither the rules nor the lessons are allowed to be slighted; but as December days shorten, and December cold strengthens, even the most indolent pupil finds herself under a certain stress of occupation which she cannot resist.

Shirking can find no place in the recitation-room. Moments that have been idled away now become precious, each one laden with its weight of some loving remembrance to be made for the dear ones at home.

Such treasures of delicate silks, laces, plushes, velvets, ribbons, embroideries, card-boards, tassels, cords, gilt in every shape and capable of every use; such pretty gift-books, booklets, cards, afghans, sofa-pillows, head-rests; such wonders of ingenuity in working up places for thermometers, putting them in dust-pans, tying them onto bread-rollers, slipping them behind wonderful clusters of sweet painted flowers; such pen-wipers, such blotters, work-baskets, paper-baskets, bureau coverings, bureau mats! napery of all varieties; and, after all, this enumeration is but the beginning of what in Montrose Academy was hidden in drawers, stowed away in most impossible and impracticable places, yet always ready to the hand for a spare moment. Two hundred178girls,—for by this time most of the diphtheritic runaways had returned,—and all, without an exception, were Christmas busy! Christmas crazy! What a changed place it made of the school!

Benedictions on the hallowed holiday! If we put aside its religious bearing, think of it only as a time when heart goes out to heart, even the most selfish of us all will remember to show our love in a visible token of affection.

If, with all this, we can make our offerings hallowed by a tenderer love and a deeper affection for Him in whose honor the whole world keeps the festival, then, indeed, the day becomes to us the most blessed and beautiful of our lives!

Marion Parke saw it as it was kept here in an entirely new way. At her Western home, her father had made it a day of religious observance. Marion had always been leader in trimming their church with the pretty greens which their mild winter spared to them, and on Christmas Sunday they sang Christmas hymns, and listened to a Christmas sermon. On Christmas Eve they had a Christmas-tree, and hung it with such useful gifts as their necessities demanded and a small purse could provide. It was a happy, precious day, simply and heartily kept; but here she was lost in wonder, as she was called from room to room to see the rare and beautiful gifts which, it seemed to her, abounded everywhere. Money to purchase such things for herself to give away she had not, but she watched her room-mates, as they179deftly prepared their gifts for their Rock Cove homes, with delight.

How busy and happy they were! Sometimes Marion’s longing to send something, if only a little remembrance, home brought the tears into her eyes.

Gladys was the first to see this and to guess its cause. At once she began to purchase new silks, trimmings of all kinds, booklets, cards, increasing her store, until even her cousins, accustomed as they were to her fitful extravagances, wondered at her.

When her drawers, never too orderly, began to assume a chaotic appearance, she said fretfully one morning to Marion Parke, who was looking and laughing at the chaos,—

“I should think, instead of laughing at me, it would be a great deal better natured in you to help me put them into some kind of order. Your drawer isn’t half full. Look here! open it, and let me tuck some of these duds in.”

Marion opened hers, pushed the few things it contained carefully into a corner, and said,—

“You are very welcome to all the room you want. Remember, I am only here on sufferance; it is really all yours.”

“Nonsense! help me, can’t you? I shall pitch them in any way, and you are so tidy!”

Help her Marion did, and when the jumbled but valuable contents of the drawer were all transferred, Gladys shut it up with a gleeful laugh.180

“Oh, how splendid it is,” she said, “to have the drawer clean and clear again! Never one of those duds is going back, and you can use them or throw them away; put them in a rag-bag if you want to; I’ve nothing more to do with them.”

Then Sue and Dorothy understood what the extravagance meant, but Marion did not; she only stood still, staring at Gladys, wondering what she could have said or done to vex her kind-hearted room-mate. And it was not until hours afterward, when she was alone with Dorothy, and Dorothy told her they were gifts to her, that she knew how rich in Christmas treasures she had suddenly become.

And here it is pleasant to tell, that this was only one of Gladys’s thoughtful kindnesses. Little bundles of similar gifts were constantly going from her to the doors of the girls whose small means made Christmas presents luxuries in which they could not indulge. Even Gladys’s liberal father wondered often over the amount of money which she wished for these holidays; but he trusted her, and in truth felt proud and glad that this only child had a noble, generous nature, which could, and did, think of others more than of herself; for in the account which she always sent him of the expenditure of these moneys, while there were many “give aways,” there were few dollars spent on herself.

One day, in the regular mail-bag, there came this note to Miss Ashton:—181

We, the undersigned, grateful for the undeserved kindnesses with which you have made our repentant days so happy, request the pleasure of your company in the parlor, Tuesday evening, December 22.

Jenny Barton,Sophy Kane,Kate Underwood,Mamie Smythe,Lucy Snow,Lilly White,Martha Dodd,

and all the members of the “Never Say Die Club.”

“What are those girls up to now?” Miss Ashton said with a pleasant laugh, as she read the invitation, but she accepted it without any delay, and when she was told by Miss Newton, the confidential helper of the whole school in any of their wants, that the parlor had been lent to the secret society for the evening, and no teacher was to be allowed entrance until eight o’clock, she smilingly acquiesced.

The club were excused from their recitations that afternoon, and it was amusing to see how much spying there was among the rest of the school to find out what was going on. All that could be seen, however, was the coming in of a big boxed article, unfortunately for the curious, so boxed that no one could even guess what it contained.

A general invitation had been given to the whole school, and before the appointed hour for opening the door, groups of girls in full evening dress began to fill the corridor and press close to the door.

When, punctual to the appointed moment, it was flung open, a burst of laughter followed.

Ranged around a covered object in the middle of the room stood twenty girls, dressed in gray flannel182blankets made in the fashion of the penitential robes worn by nuns. They all wore stiff white hoods, with the long capes coming down over their shoulders, and each one carried in her hand a small tin pan filled to the brim with ashes.

They stood immovable until Miss Ashton entered the room, when the whole club sank upon their knees, bending their heads until they nearly touched the floor, dexterously placing the tin of ashes upon their backs.

No sooner had they assumed this position than a little flag was unfurled from the top of the covered object in the middle of the room, upon which was printed in large letters:—

“FORGIVE, AND ACCEPT.”

Then the covering was slowly removed by some one hidden beneath it, and there stood an elegant writing-desk, on the front of which were the words:—

“A Merry Christmas to Miss Ashton the Mercifulfrom her gratefulNever Say Die Club.”

183CHAPTER XXVII.CHRISTMAS IN THE ACADEMY.

Marion, two days before Christmas, was once more left alone in her room. The Rock Cove cousins had given her the most cordial invitation to go home with them for the vacation, but she had declined. In doing so, she had a half-acknowledged feeling that she was to suffer just penance for her misdeeds at Belden, and a dread of what unknown trouble she might meet at Rock Cove. This Eastern world was so different from the whole-hearted, kindly one she had left behind her, that instead of wonting to it, she grew timid, diffident of herself, even among the girls, and shy about venturing abroad. So she made her mind up bravely to stay where she was, and spend her vacation in study.

Miss Ashton fully approved; for since Marion’s sickness with her cold, she had shown an inclination to cough, and was often hoarse in the morning. A stay by the seaside in winter would be to run a risk. It might be dull for her to remain, but she loved her books, and there was plenty for her to do in order to keep up with her advanced classes; besides, there were twenty of the pupils whose homes184were so distant they could not go there, and return, without taking more time than the vacation allowed, so they, also, were to remain, and Marion, though dull, need not be lonely.

All the teachers but Fräulein Sausmann were to be absent, and to her care Miss Ashton had to commit the young ladies during the vacation.

The wheels of the carriage that took her away from the academy had hardly ceased to be heard by the anxious listeners there, before Marion’s door was opened just far enough to admit the Fräulein’s good-natured face.

Never had her ample head of light hair looked so large, her blue eyes so blue, her nose soretroussé, or her thin lips so thin, to Marion, as now. Before she had time to welcome her, the Fräulein said in her high-pitched voice,—

“O Marione! Wir happiness time wir have der Christtag. Wir ’ave der Baum so high,” holding up a plump little hand as high as she could reach. “Twenty, thirty das Licht! Christtag presented buful! You ’ave one, sieben, zwölf, four! You come happiness; nicht cry, nicht! nicht! Lachen! so!” and a merry peal of laughter Marion found no trouble in echoing.

“You come parlor Christtag night, you see! I, Santa Claus! Merry Christtag. Catch you! Nicht cry! Lachen! Lachen!”

She shut the door softly, but Marion heard her laugh as she went down the long corridor, such a185merry, contagious laugh, that it carried away with it the loneliness from Marion’s room.

There was to be a gathering in the parlor then,—der Baum. Twenty, thirty das Licht, and what else? Of one thing Marion felt sure, if she was to receive, one, sieben, zwölf, four presents, she must give some in return, but what, and to whom?

She was not long in doubt. Lilly White was among those who remained, and the Fräulein had hardly gone when she made her appearance with four other girls at her door.

“Oui, Fräulein Marione! Ab alio expectes, alteri quod feceris.

“That’s French, Latin, and German. I picked it out of”—

“Don’t tell, Lilly White,” broke in one of the girls. “See if Marion can translate it.”

“Come in and let me try,” said Marion, laughing. “Oui—yes; Fräulein—Miss Marion; Ab alio expectes, alteri quod feceris—If any one gives you a present, be sure you give one back.”

“A literal translation,” said the same girl. “Miss Jones always said you were her best Latin scholar. Practically, however, it translates,—

“Come with us to Lilly White’s room, and we’ll show you a thing or two. But we mustn’t all go together. If we do, the Fräulein will be popping down on us to be sure no mischief is brewing.”

“I’ll tell you what I will do; I will write in German ‘No Admittance’ on a big placard, and put it outside my door. What is the German, girls?”186“Nicht Zulassung,” said one of the girls promptly. “Write it, Lilly, in a big, bold hand.”

They went together to Lilly’s room; and she took a large square of pasteboard, and, without deigning to ask how the words were spelled, she printed in big letters:—

“NOTTZ ULLARSG.”

“There!” she said, turning it triumphantly for the others to read. Then she hung it on the outside of the door, moved a table to the door, planted a chair upon it, mounted into the chair, and peeped down through the transom to watch for the Fräulein’s coming.

The others watched her, and all business for the time was suspended.

Pretty soon they heard the pattering of the Fräulein’s little feet along the corridor, then the sudden halting before their door.

Lilly, with a beet-red face, and frantic gestures of two big red hands, motioned them to be still. They heard,—

“N—O—T—T—Z.” A significant grunt; then again, “N—O—T—T—Z;” a pause. Again, “N—O—T—T—Z U—L—L—A—R—S—G.”

“Hindoostanee? No; Indianee: Marione Parkee!” Then a little laugh, followed by,—

“Marione! Marione! Ope die Thur! What you mean, Nottz Ullarsg?”187

“No admittance,” said Lilly White through the transom. “Why, Fräulein, don’t you know your own German?”

“Know my own German?” repeated the Fräulein slowly. “Know—my—own—German? Nein! Nein! German, Lilly White! Nein Vater Land.

“Lilly White, open die Thur, quickest! My own German! Nein! Nein! Nein!

“Marione Parke’s Indianee!”

It was some moments before Lilly, the chair and the table, could be removed from the door, the Fräulein keeping up a series of impatient knockings while she waited.

Then Marion, as the one in whom she would feel the greatest confidence, was pushed to the small opening allowed, and told to say,—

“It’s Christmas, almost, dear Fräulein. It’s secrets here now. We can’t let you in.”

“Indianee?” asked the Fräulein, pointing to the placard. “What you mean, Marione?”

“It was meant to mean ‘No Admittance’ in German, Fräulein.”

Such funny little shrieks as the Fräulein uttered, no one could understand, not even Marion, who was looking in her face. There were anger and fun and amazement, chasing each other in quick succession, her hands beating time to each feeling, as an instrument utters its music to the touch.

To the amazement of all, it ended in the Fräulein shrieking out,—188

“Lilly White! You be a—what you call um der thor, narr, dummkopf, fool, idiotte; you know German, nicht! nicht, you idiotte!”

In these hard words the little German teacher’s anger wholly vanished; pulling down the placard, she tore it in bits, gathered them up in her small white apron, made a sweeping courtesy, and trotted away.

As soon as she was fairly out of hearing, the girls began to busy themselves about their Christmas work. Lilly White’s room was full of things to be made into pretty gifts for the tree, of which the Fräulein’s share was by far the largest.

There is a wonderful degree of thoughtfulness among a company of girls. Not one there but knew of Marion’s circumstances, and how impossible it would be for her, out of her slender purse, to meet the demands of the occasion. If Gladys Philbrick had generously helped her to prepare the pretty gifts which were on their way to her far-away home, so these girls as generously planned that in the Fräulein’s festival she should not find herself in the embarrassing position of being the one who should receive, without making a return.

It was beautiful to see the delicacy with which they managed the whole, so that Marion hardly felt how much they gave, and how pleasantly she received.

On Christmas morning the whole house was early astir. All up and down the corridors, long before the dim light penetrated into them, white-robed figures flitted noiselessly from door to door. “Merry189Christmas! Merry Christmas!” was whispered inside, until a ghost-like procession of some twenty girls headed for the Fräulein’s room.

This was at the end of the second corridor, and as they approached it not a sound was to be heard from within but the satisfactory one of long and loud snores.

It had been agreed on the previous night that not a door should be locked on the inside, and Helen Stratton, “the cute girl,” who could do anything she tried to do, was chosen to open this door. This she did so noiselessly, that the whole twenty girls entered the room and surrounded the Fräulein’s bed without so much as interrupting a single snore. Then all at once a merry chorus broke out with,—

“Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas, Fräulein!”

The Fräulein stirred in her bed. Then another shout, louder than the first, and she sat bolt upright.

The gas in the hall had been lighted, and stole in through the transom sufficiently to give the ghost-like look the girls sought; but even with this, she was slow in comprehending what was happening.

One more shout, and she sprang out of bed, catching the one nearest to her, and giving her a good, hard shaking. “Der Christtag! Der Christtag! Fröhlich Weinacht! Fröhlich; I wishes you ’arpy Christtag! Whatyoucall it?”

“Merry Christmas!” shouted the girls.

“Ah, Ja! Ja! Merrie Christmas! one Merrie Christmas, a t’ousand Merrie Christmas. Now you190go dress! Miss Ashton say, ‘Fräulein, the young ladies tak cough.’ You catched me, I catched you to-nacht. You see! gute nacht! gute nacht!”

And like a very small queen, in her pretty nightdress, she waved the girls away, then locked her door; if they had come back only a few minutes later, they would have heard the same musical sounds coming from her bed.

But when the day had fairly dawned, it would have been difficult to find a more wide-awake, alert teacher than the Fräulein, or one that could have given a truer and pleasanter Christmas day and night.

191CHAPTER XXVIII.FRÄULEIN’S GYMNASTICS.

“Fräulein, can you have prayers for the young ladies in the small reception-room on Christmas morning?” Miss Ashton asked with much hesitation the day before leaving.

“Ja! Ja!” answered the Fräulein, all smiles and nods.

“Very well, then, I will give the notice to-night. As Christmas is a religious festival, I shall be glad to have a religious as well as a festival observation of it. As for the matter of going to church, the young-ladies can do as they please; there need be nothing compulsory about it.”

“I mistand,” and the Fräulein congratulated herself on her correct English. “All wrong; nein! nein, all.”

“Right,” said Miss Ashton, laughing.

“Oui, Ja! Der Dank! Tanks. I learn Anglais soon. Patientia, Fräulein Ashton. I learn soon, by un by.”

In compliance with this request, after a hasty Christmas breakfast, the girls assembled in the reception-room, and waited with more curiosity than devotion the coming of the Fräulein.192

She had not been down to breakfast, and when she made her appearance now, it was as if an odd-shaped swan was waddling into the room. From head to foot she was dressed in a fluffy white stuff, that stood out all over her like snow-feathers.

A stifled laugh greeted her, but of this she took no notice; walking slowly to the table that had been prepared for her, she turned a solemn face toward the girls, opened a German prayer-book, and began to read the service for Christmas morning, stopping when she came to the places for the chant, and, motioning to her audience to rise and join her, she sang in sweet tones music familiar to the girls, in which, with the English words they were accustomed to, they all joined.

Then down she fell upon her knees, the others following her example, and with her eyes half shut, and her little hands folded reverently upon her prayer-book, she rattled off prayer after prayer with astonishing rapidity.

Now, though the young ladies had come in anything but a solemn frame of mind, which the Fräulein’s droll appearance was not calculated to change, there was something so devotional, almost solemn, in her rapidly changing expression of face, that they became at once and unconsciously devout. Dropping on their knees, and covering their faces, they joined her “Amens” with hushed voices, and into their susceptible hearts the hallowing influence of the religious festival found ready entrance.193

They were hardly prepared to see the Fräulein spring lightly upon her feet, to hear a merry laugh ring out, and “Good-morgen! good-morgen!” spoken with the accompaniment of a cloud of white batting, that flew off from her arms and shoulders as she laughed.

Queer little Fräulein! but good and kind as she was queer!

All day long she worked indefatigably alone in the big parlor. Not one of the girls was allowed even so much as a peep within the doors.

The day was a rarely fine one for a New England Christmas. The sun shone out of a cloudless sky; a warm south wind blew gently over the deep snow-drifts; little sparrows hopped delightedly upon the branches of the Norway spruces that grew close to the house, lifted their pretty wings as if to coax the wind and sun, while they chirped their cheerful Christmas carols, stole the late berries from the trees, and twisted their round heads so they could send loving glances up to the bevy of pretty girls that watched and smiled down upon them, as they fed them from their windows.

At seven o’clock the gong was sounded, and the young ladies in gala dresses filed into the bright parlor.

In the centre of the room was a large tree. Near it stood the Fräulein, smiling and courtesying to each one as she entered. A quaint little figure she was; yet, with all her quaintness, there was enough of194dignity to suppress any merriment her appearance might have caused.

The number and variety of these gifts was a marvel to them. When they were fairly distributed, the Fräulein lifted the cover of an unopened box, and took from it a gift for every teacher.

Good, happy Fräulein! Not a thoughtful word or a kind act from these to you strangers in a strange land, but you have treasured in your homesick heart, and from the Vater Land you bring to them all to-day your grateful recognition of it all!

Perhaps the happiest of them was the lame Nellie, who, yet weak and pale from her sickness, had with the Fräulein’s consent brought to the Christmas-tree little pictures which she had painted in her convalescence, as gifts to them all. She held tight to Marion’s hand. In some way, she could not have told you how, she seemed to herself to have owed to this dear friend the ability to have painted them. It was a little cross she gave Marion, but she had hung on it a wreath of lovely rosebuds, meaning, through them, to convey to Marion how her love had made the cross of her suffering beautiful.

As the vacation had commenced on the twenty-third of December, and school did not begin again until the fifth of January, there was quite a time remaining after the excitement of Christmas had passed.

The more scholarly and industrious of the girls remaining at the academy at once applied themselves to making up whatever deficiencies had occurred in their studies.195

Marion found plenty to do, not only for herself, but also for Nellie, whose lessons had necessarily run behind during her illness.

The Fräulein found them together over their books much oftener than she thought was for their good. Having been thoroughly educated in the German methods of teaching, she was a firm believer in vacation benefits, also in muscular training, which she considered quite as essential for girls as for boys. In her imperfect English, and also by personal illustration, she had tried, ever since her connection with this school, to awaken the teachers, Miss Ashton in particular, to a greater sense of its importance. To be sure, there was a gymnasium in the building, and a regular teacher, who faithfully put her pupils through the exercises commonly allowed to girls. But these seemed to the Fräulein to be only a beginning of what might be done; so, now, finding herself for a time in sole authority in the school, she at once, as soon as Christmas was over, began to put her girls through what she considered so essential to their health.

She made her first attempt upon Marion and Nellie. Finding them both bent nearly double over their books, Nellie very pale, with dark rings under her eyes, and Marion with flushed cheeks and too bright eyes, she at once routed them from their books, made them stand up before her, and said,—

“Now, do”—and her English word failing her, she drew a long breath from the bottom of her chest, and motioned to them to imitate her.196

Marion, never having attempted anything of the kind before, did so partially, and Nellie could only produce something that sounded like a gurgle in her small throat.

The Fräulein shook her head impatiently, and repeated the process over and over again, Marion gaining a little every time, but Nellie soon discouraged and tired.

“Bard! bard! nicht right—aushauchen tief—so, thus:” (deep breaths from the Fräulein). Then, seeming suddenly to remember that the girls did not know why she made the request, she tried in an anglicized German, which no one could by any possibility have understood, to explain it to them. She tapped her own head, took up a book, appeared to read it, while she moved the leaves in time with her long inhalations and exhalations.

“Bon scholars! long—so!” Then suddenly she said, “Patientia!” and vanished from the room. In a few minutes the corridor was full of noisy girls, who came direct to Marion’s room, and in obedience to the Fräulein’s directions arranged themselves in a circle.

They had only the vaguest idea what they had been called for, but they knew the Fräulein always gave them “a jolly good time,” and came willingly. Merry enough they were for the next hour, and much to the Fräulein’s surprise, for they were quicker than German girls, they made so much progress that, after the second lesson, a plan that was197to tell much in future for the well-being of the academy was fully developed.

The Fräulein drew up a paper in German, in which she detailed not only the benefits physically resulting from her system of deep breathing, but also the help it would be in resting the excited nerves with which so many of the young girls came into the recitation-room. Then, before presenting it to Miss Ashton, she roused the enthusiasm of her class by telling them how much she needed their help, as examples of the great good to be derived from her gymnastics. And the result was that they had not only the amusement of the exercises to help them pass the vacation, but also the benefit resulting from it, and the hope that through them it would become a part of the school-life.

When Miss Ashton returned, she was not a little surprised at the gain she so quickly recognized, nor was she slow in availing herself of its aid.

She had always felt that nothing was more necessary for a good working head than a perfect physical balance, and for that reason she allowed and encouraged a greater amount of amusement, which was relaxation from study, than was common in what is called a finishing school. It was almost the only boast in which she indulged, that, during the twenty years of her care of the academy as principal, she had never had a case of fatal sickness, or, indeed, of any severe enough to excite alarm.

During the fall she obliged the girls, as long as198the weather would allow, to spend hours every day in the open air, giving them their choice of exercise,—walking, riding, boating, botanizing, geologizing, any and every thing that would bring to them rest and change. In winter there was dancing in the large hall, there were compulsory gymnastics, there were skating on the pond, coasting on the hills back of the academy, or, not so seldom as it might have been supposed would be the case among girls, snowballing in the most approved boy-fashion.

Indeed, once upon a time it was reported that, having come out, as she generally made a point of doing whenever any amusement was going on, to witness the sport, a girl more audacious than any of the others ventured to throw a snow-ball in the direction of her august person, and it was received with such a merry laugh, that another followed, and another, and another, until she was as ermine-covered as if she were dressed for a court reception; and not a girl among the laughing crowd but loved her better and respected her more.

“My best recitations,” she was often heard to say, “come after the best frolics. Give me pupils with steady nerves, bright eyes, and sweet, clear voices, and I will show you a school where they study well, and the deportment is of the best.

“I am never so anxious about my girls as when the weather shuts them in-doors, and the cold makes them want to hug the radiators.”

It was on account of the good common-sense by199which this method of regulation was carried on, that the school was sought far and near; to this, in a great measure, it owed its success.

The gymnastic teacher already employed was a good one for the old methods; but there was something so inspiring in the Fräulein’s enthusiasm on the theory of long breaths, that Miss Ashton made it at once a part of daily practice, and put her in as teacher for those classes.

Watching the result of the experiment, it took Miss Ashton but a short time to satisfy herself as to its immediate benefits; and as for the girls themselves, they were so amused and strengthened by the lessons that, after a little practice, it became a favorite diversion, and you would find them often in merry groups, inhaling and exhaling, perhaps not in exact accordance with the Fräulein’s rules, but gaining at least in proportion to their enjoyment. As for the Fräulein, a very happy and proud teacher she boastfully declared herself.

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