THESCHOOL-GIRLS IN No. 40.
“Dearme! dear me!” sighed Carrie Stanley, as she kneeled beside an empty trunk and glanced around her room. “How am I ever to get all these things into two trunks? It’s an impossibility! Where to begin I’m sure I don’t know.”
It was not surprising that Carrie was puzzled as to the proper mode of procedure; for that usually neat apartment was in a state nearly approaching to perfect confusion. The wardrobe stood open, displaying empty hooks; for the dresses and other articles of apparelwhich had hung upon them had been taken away and were piled, without order or arrangement, on the chairs and bedstead. The four bureau-drawers, instead of being in their proper places, were all upon the floor, forming a barricade about the trunk; the book-shelves, too, had been rifled, and their contents were strewn over the dressing-table, from which some of them had fallen to find a resting-place upon the pretty carpet. Indeed, it would have required no little care and skill, in moving about the chamber, to avoid stepping on books, glove-boxes, perfumery-bottles, and the like, which were strewed around everywhere but where they should have been.
Carrie’s glance around the disordered room seemed only to add to her perplexities; and, tossing back her bright curls, she bent over the large trunk, looking into its depths with a thoughtful air, as if studying the best possible arrangement. She did not appear to derive much satisfaction from her investigations; for, before she had put in a single article, her motherstopped at the open door and looked on the scene of confusion. A roguish smile parted her lips, as she stood for a moment looking on quietly without a word.
“My dear Carrie,” she said, at last, “this is a perfect chaos!”
“I know it, mother,” returned the girl, starting up. “I was just wondering if I ever could put things in any sort of order again. But I must have another trunk. All these clothes and books will never go into two, no matter how large they are. Look for yourself, mother. It is quite out of the question. What do you think about it?”
“I think that two trunks will be quite sufficient, after we lay aside all the articles not absolutely necessary.” And, suiting the action to the word, Mrs. Stanley selected several dresses from the heap of clothing on the bed, saying, “Just put these in the wardrobe again.”
“What, mother! My pretty pink tarletane to be left behind,—and this green silk, so becomingto me?” exclaimed Carrie, in a tone of expostulation.
“Yes,” replied her mother, decidedly, as she proceeded to separate other articles in the same way.
At first Carrie’s fair brow clouded, as she saw her prettiest dresses, her nicest linen and her most interesting books consigned to their resting-places on shelves, in drawers and closets again; but, quickly recovering her good humour, she followed her mother’s directions, and ere long the trunks were all packed, locked, strapped and ready, even the cards marked
Miss Caroline Stanley,Manchester,Mass.
Miss Caroline Stanley,Manchester,Mass.
and nailed on the ends.
The pretty little room was once more in order; but it looked desolate indeed. Mrs. Stanley could not help sighing deeply, andtears filled her eyes as she looked around her; while Carrie, all unconscious of her mother’s sadness, danced about in high glee, declaring that she “was never so happy in all her life.”
“Oh, mother, can it be possible,” she exclaimed, “that I am actually going away to school,—to boarding-school, too, where I have wanted to go so long? Oh, it is too delightful! It seems almost too good to be true!”
Mrs. Stanley smiled faintly.
“When you have put on your travelling-dress, my dear, come to me, in my room,” she said. “I want to see you and Susie together once more before you go. I must see if Susie needs any help now. You can dress for your journey without any further assistance from me, can’t you?”
“Oh, yes, indeed, mother,” returned Caroline; and Mrs. Stanley walked away, crossed the wide hall and entered another apartment.
A young girl about the same age as Carrie was the only occupant of this room. She wasdressed in deep mourning, and was sitting by the open window, looking out over the spacious and pleasant garden.
“What! all ready, Susie?—trunk packed, travelling-dress on and all?” said Mrs. Stanley.
“Yes, aunt,” replied Susan.
“I meant to have come to you before; but I see you did not need me. You are quite an expert little body. I was detained longer than I expected to be in assisting Carrie to pack her trunk. She was quite helpless in the midst of her wardrobe.”
“I do not wonder,” replied Susie. “I remember what a formidable task it was to me when I first had it to do; but it is no new business to me now.” And her voice faltered.
“You have been crying, Susie,” said her aunt. “Are you unwilling to go to Manchester? You know, my dear, that I am very sorry to part with both my children at once; but I think it best for you to go. It will make it harder still for me if you are unhappy about going.”
“I am not, dear aunt. I know you would not send me if you did not think it best; but I have had a home for so short a time, and found it so sweet, that I dread to lose it,—even for a little while. But I don’t mean to be home-sick: so don’t feel badly about it, dear aunt.”
Just then Carrie came dancing along.
“I’m all armed and equipped as the law directs,” she said; “and now, mother, I’ve a proposition to make. Instead of adjourning to your room, let us go to the arbour. It is too lovely a day to stay in the house; and, besides, it will be a long time before we sit together in the garden again.”
“Very well,” said her mother; and away she went, followed by her mother and Susie, whileCarriescampered on ahead to the arbour.
It was a very pleasant spot. The large trellis of lattice-work was completely covered with climbing roses of different colours; and the interior was equally charming. It was furnished with garden-chairs, and a littletable, where it was often Mrs. Stanley’s custom to have tea served in the summer evening. Carrie had already reached the arbour, and was busily engaged in arranging the seats near the entrance, from which a small pond or lake was to be seen gleaming through the trees that surrounded it, and the garden, with its terraces and winding paths that led through a grove down to the water’s edge.
“There’s your favourite seat, mother,” she said, pointing to a low chair. “Susie may sit by your side. I shall take this stool at your feet.”
After all were seated and Mrs. Stanley had given the girls some directions about their journey, she said, “One thing more, my children. It is only six months since you both made a profession of religion and united with the Church; and now for the first time you are about to be placed in circumstances which will test the strength and sincerity of your Christian principle. You will have many trials, many temptations. I confess I almost shrinkfrom the thought of applying such tests to your piety.”
“Why, mother!” exclaimed Carrie, much pained. “Do you doubt our sincerity?”
“No, my child,—not your sincerity, but your strength.”
“You need not fear for that, dear mother. I rather hope we shall have some trials,—though I can’t imagine exactly what they will be.”
“You will discover them soon enough, my daughter. Never forget that you are Christians,” Mrs. Stanley continued. “I do not mean, by that, that you are to have grave faces continually and be always talking of religious matters; but be guided by religious principle. Read your Bibles regularly, and do not forget to pray.”
“Forget to pray!” repeated Carrie. “I should as soon forget my regular meals.”
Mrs. Stanley kissed her child’s upturned face.
“Go into the library, my dear,” she said,“and bring me a small package which you will find on the table.”
Carrie ran off, and soon returned with the parcel. Mrs. Stanley opened it and displayed two beautiful little Bibles. The girls were loud in their admiration of the elegant crimson morocco bindings, fine type and heavy gilding; but the clasps—of real silver, and on which their names were engraved—were pronounced “perfect.”
Both declared that they had never seen such beautiful Bibles before; and they kissed and thanked the dear giver repeatedly.
“Put them in your baskets now,” said Mrs. Stanley. “I see Hannah coming with our lunch. I told her we would have it here to-day.”
Hannah entered, bringing a basket, which contained a table-cloth, napkins, dishes and all that was necessary to spread the table. The girls showed her their presents; and, after she had admired them sufficiently, they proceeded to set the table, while she went backto the house and soon returned with the eatables.
“Just the very things I love best,” said Carrie,—“even coffee for your especial benefit, Susie. They begin to treat us as if we were of some consequence, now that we are going away: don’t they? Here’s that quince marmalade that I teased for in vain the other night at supper, and the almond sponge-cake you like so well. I don’t know whether to take it as a compliment or not, Sue. It seems a little like a feast of rejoicing at getting rid of us.”
So Carrie rattled on, till a servant announced that the carriage was in readiness to take them to the depôt, where Mrs. Stanley accompanied them and left them in charge of the gentleman who was to go with them to Manchester.