image004The Red Plant.
The Red Plant.
The Red Plant.
"See here is a nice dry hollow; it will just be as safeas in my drawer at home."
"Yes, I suppose so," answered Emma, rather impatiently. "Only I shall not be here for the first few days. We are going to the city this afternoon, and may not be home till Thursday or Friday. There's the first bell. Oh, dear, I wish, it was all over! Come, Tilly, we shall be late."
The school exercises went on as usual in the morning. At noon, Tilly walked home by the street, discussing with the other girls the chances of promotion for one and another, and came back the same way. In the afternoon the whole school, boarders and all, were assembled in the large room. The trustees, with the president of the school at their head, took their seats on the raised platform, and the friends of the pupils had a place by themselves. There was a prayer and some singing; and then Mr. Richard Hausen, the president, rose to read the reports, amid a profound silence. The little girls came first, and then the elder ones. Florry and Emma, seated together, listened breathlessly till Mr. Hausen came to the "promotions" and read:
"Promoted to the fourth grade: Flora Lester, Eva Church, Anna Talbot. Highest standing for all things, Flora Lester."
Poor Emma! She had succeeded in persuading herself that she should certainly pass this time, and it was a terrible disappointment not to hear her name. And such a mortification, too. She must stay behind—in the baby-room, as she disdainfully called the Kindergarten, while two such little things as Eva Church and Anna Talbot mounted over her head. They would learn their lessons in the great class-room, and go out sailing and riding with the young ladies, while she would remain, the only large girl in the room, except Tilly Mansfield.
"It is too bad! It isn't half fair!" Thus, in the short recess given to the younger girls, Emma loudly complained of the injustice done her.
"I don't believe Miss Van Ness keeps the book right!" she exclaimed. "I don't believe I have been imperfect as many times as that."
"I am afraid there is no mistake about it," said Florry, sorrowfully. "Have you kept an account this term, Emma?"
"No. I can never remember to set the things down at the time."
"I didn't believe you would, and so I kept your credit along with my own," said Florry. "And, Emma, I am afraid Miss Van Ness is right. Her account is just like mine. You know I told you two or three weeks ago—"
"Oh, yes, you told me," interrupted Emma, scornfully and angrily. "You are a great hand to preach, to be sure. If I have missed, and got some marks in school, I haven't done some other things. Have you found the red plant yet?"
Florry did not say another word. She turned and went away into the house, without telling Emma, as she had meant to do, of her intention not to go up without her.
"Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?" she said to herself. "Oh, my heart will break! I am sure it will. If I could only die, or go clear away where nobody knows me. I wish father would let me go away to Colorado to Uncle John."
To do Emma justice, she had no intention of wounding her friend so deeply.
She was angry at herself for having failed, and at Florry for having succeeded, and her anger fell upon the first object that happened to present itself.
"What did you mean by what you said about the red plant?" asked Tilly Mansfield, who had heard Emma's words. "I heard your mother tell Emmeline that she had had a beautiful one, but that somebody stole it. You don't mean that Florry Lester took it, do you? Why, Emma Hausen!"
"Yes, she did; and I think it is a shame that such a girl should be put above me!" exclaimed Emma. "I am not a thief, whatever I am. I just wish Miss Van Ness and the rest knew it, that's all. I guess Miss Flora Lester would not hold her head so very high among the young ladies after that."
"I guess she wouldn't," said Tilly, who dearly loved a piece of gossip. "Why don't you tell them? I would. It would just pay Florry off finely. I dare say she would be turned out of the school."
"But I don't want to pay her off, that I know of," said Emma, struck by Tilly's words, and beginning to think when it was too late, as usual. "It was not her fault, and I am sorry I hurt her feelings. She was always telling me I would fail, if I didn't take more care; and she was right. If I had minded her, I should have done well enough. I wish I had."
"But did she really steal your mother's red plant?"
"Yes: she took it out of the stand and carried it home, and then somebody stole it from her. But she was very sorry; and she came and told mother all about it; and gave her that beautiful double fuchsia, to make amends. And don't you say a word, Tilly, for all the world; because mother told me not to tell; and, besides, it was real mean in me to twit Florry with it. You won't tell, will you?"
"Of course not; but, Emma, I don't think you need care so very much for Florry. It was not half fair for her to go above you so."
"Oh, she couldn't help it! And she did her best to have me second, too."
"She knew all the time that you wouldn't, though. I knew she did, because she told me so. She said you had been very good the last two weeks; but it didn't depend on that; and she knew she should pass anyhow: so she didn't care."
Tilly did not exactly mean to lie; but she was an inveterate gossip, and, like many other gossips, she never could repeat anything exactly as she heard it.
"I don't believe she said so. It doesn't sound one bit like her," said Emma.
"Indeed, she did. She said so up in my room this very morning."
"I guess you stretched it just a little," said Emma. "But there is mother calling me."
"I think we must go now, my dear," said Mrs. Hausen. "You know we have several things to do yet. Miss Van Ness will excuse you."
Emma did not seek Florry out to "make up," as she had intended. She said to herself that she had no time; but that was not the real reason. Tilly's words, though she did not half believe them, had not been without their effect on her mind.
THE EFFECT OF A BAD NAME.
MR. MANSFIELD was very much vexed when he found that Tilly had not been promoted, and said many hard things; threatening to take his daughter out of school, and send her to a more pretentious "institution," in a neighbouring town. But Tilly herself had no mind to leave school; and Miss Emmeline Mansfield, who was a very good, sensible girl, was very unwilling to have her sister deprived of the training which was just what she needed; and Mr. Mansfield was finally persuaded to let matters rest for the present.
"Why don't you ever wear your watch to school?" said he, one day, as Tilly passed him with her books in her hand. "What is the use of having a watch, if you don't wear it?"
"Emma Hausen told me the girls would laugh at me if I did," replied Tilly. "And Mrs. Hausen and the teachers don't like to have the girls wear finery in school."
"Nonsense," answered Mr. Mansfield. "If they do say anything to you, just tell them you can afford to wear what you like."
Tilly was in a hurry that morning, and did not care to go back to her room for her watch; but the next day, she thought she would wear it, and went to the drawer where she usually kept it.
The watch was not there. Tilly looked through all her drawers and boxes, but the watch was not to be found.
What was to be done now? What had become of it? Tilly remembered that she had shown it to Flora Lester one morning; and that she had afterwards left Flora alone in the room. That was all she could recollect, and she jumped at once to a conclusion. Flora was a thief: she had stolen Mrs. Hausen's red plant; no doubt she had taken the watch, also. Yes, that was it. Flora Lester, the pattern girl, the girl Miss Van Ness petted, and Miss Garland made so much of, who had just been promoted, and welcomed by the fourth grade girls with so much pleasure, was a thief, and had stolen enough to send her to the State Prison.
Tilly had never liked Flora very well heretofore. Flora was polite and kind to her when she first went to school, and had introduced her to the other girls, and showed her the ways of the school. This was only a part of her duty as the oldest girl in the Kindergarten. The head girl in every grade was expected to show such attentions to strangers. But Tilly had resented this conduct as an attempt at patronage on Flora's part, and had said to herself that Flora Lester needn't put on quite so many airs, seeing that her father was only a poor village doctor, who had not as much money in the world as her (Tilly's) father spent every year.
But Flora did not seem to care anything about Mr. Mansfield's money; and had not admired the house and furniture half as much as Tilly thought she ought have done. And now here was a fine chance to take Florry down. It almost consoled Tilly for the loss of her watch, to think that she could whisper to all the girls that she had left Flora Lester alone in her room a minute, and that Flora must have opened her drawer and taken out her new watch and chain. Mr. Mansfield and Emmeline had gone away for a few days, and there was no one at home but herself and the housekeeper, Mrs. Griggs, who had come with them from New York, and with whom Tilly was always at war.
"I won't tell her," thought Tilly. "She will be sure to take Florry's part. I mean to write to father, though, this very minute."
Tilly was as good as her word. She sat down on the instant, and wrote to her father, telling him that Florry had stolen her watch, and asking him what she should do about it. This letter she posted on her way to school. She met Florry at the gate, and Florry was going to speak to her as usual; but Tilly passed her with only a very cold nod and a toss of her head, and went into the school-room, where she met Jenny Fleming and several of the other girls, who all seemed to be in a great frolic.
"Come and make your manners to Jenny Fleming," said Priscilla Steele, laughing, as Tilly entered the room. "She is head of the school, now that Merry is gone; and she feels as proud as a peacock."
"Jenny Fleming is not so old as I am," said Tilly. "She will be eleven next month, I know; and I was eleven last January."
"Yes; but it doesn't go by that," explained Priscilla. "It is only our age in school that counts. Jenny Fleming has been in the school ever since it began."
Now Tilly had asked the ages of all the girls anywhere near her own, and having found out that she was the oldest, she had concluded that she should be head girl when Florry left. She had made up her mind that she would be very kind and obliging, especially to the little ones; that she would take a great deal of notice of the poorer girls, and "show that she was not proud," as she said. It was very vexatious to have all this magnanimity thrown away; and it somehow increased her displeasure at Florry.
"It will seem odd not to have Florry in school, won't it?" remarked Emily Dean. "The Kindergarten won't seem half so pleasant, now that Florry is gone."
"Oh, you think a great deal of Florry," said Tilly, tossing her head again. "I guess, if you knew what I do! But you will see how fine she will look when my father comes home. I guess Miss Van Ness and the rest won't think quite so much of her after this."
"Tilly Mansfield, what do you mean?" exclaimed Priscilla and Jenny, together. "What has Florry done?"
"Won't you ever tell, if I tell you?"
"No; of course not," said Jenny and Priscilla, together.
Emily did not say a word, but she listened with the others.
"Well, then — but don't you tell, because I don't want any fuss made till my father comes home; and I have written to him this very day. Flora Lester has stolen my watch and my new chain and locket: and it isn't the first time she has stolen, either. She was at our house, and I took her up in my room while I went to see what father wanted; and I have never seen my watch since: so she must have got it, you see. I have written to father, and asked him to come home directly; and I dare say he can get it back, or else make Dr. Lester buy me a new one. But wasn't it too bad?"
"Pshaw, what nonsense!" said Jenny. "Just as if Florry would take your watch. I don't believe one word of it. You have mislaid it somewhere. A likely story, indeed!"
"I never should have thought of such a thing, if I had not known before that Florry would steal," said Tilly. "But Emma Hausen told me herself that Florry stole some of her mother's new plants."
"I don't believe she ever told you such a word!"
"Jenny," said Priscilla, "you should not speak so."
"Well, I will speak so then!" said Jenny, who was a peppery little Irish girl, and who adored Florry. "I say Florry Lester is not a thief; and whoever says so, deserves to be turned out of the school. I don't believe Emma Hausen ever told you so, Tilly Mansfield: you are mad because Florry was promoted; and that is the whole of it. A likely story, indeed! I won't stay to hear such stuff," and Jenny flounced away in a twitter of indignation.
"I am sure Jenny needn't be angry at me," said Tilly.
"Well, you see, she thinks so much of Florry—all the girls do," answered Priscilla. "But, Tilly, I don't think you ought to say such a thing, unless you are quite sure. Just think: it is enough to send Florry to the State Prison."
"Yes, you all care about Florry; and nobody thinks anything about my losing my beautiful watch," said Tilly, pouting. "I guess you would not like very well to lose a new gold watch and chain."
"But perhaps somebody else stole it—maybe one of the servants."
"I tell you nobody else had a chance. I always keep my jewels locked up," said Tilly, with a grand air. "Only that morning I unlocked it to show the things to Florry, and left it open while I went to speak to father."
"That does look badly," observed Priscilla.
"I should think it did. But, yet, I don't know that I should have thought of it, only for what Emma Hausen told me."
"And did she really tell you that Florry had stolen?"
"Yes, indeed she did. She said that Florry carried off some beautiful plants that her mother had just got from the city."
"Well, I would not have believed that about Florry Lester, of all the girls in the world. And she talks so good, too!"
"That don't always make people any better," said Tilly. "My father says he always expects to be cheated when he is dealing with people who only pretend to be good."
"But, Tilly, your own sister Emmeline is very religious, I am sure. She goes to all the meetings, and has a class in Sunday-school, and all."
"Yes, I know it; and if it was any one else, father wouldn't leave them any peace; but he lets Emmy have her own way in everything, because he thinks she is consumptive, like mother, and won't live long."
"Does Emmeline think that Florry took the watch?"
"She does not know anything about it. She has gone to the city for a few days."
"Well, I must go and look over my geography," said Priscilla. "I am sure I hope you will find your watch."
Before recess that day, almost every girl in the primary room had been told, under a solemn pledge of secrecy, that Florry Lester had stolen Tilly Mansfield's watch and chain, and that when Mr. Mansfield came home, she would have to give it up, and perhaps be sent to State's Prison. They knew, too, (for such stories never lose anything in the telling,) that Florry had stolen from Mrs. Hausen ever so many times; but that Mrs. Hausen had forgiven her for her mother's sake. Some of the girls began to remember how they had unaccountably lost knives and pencils, and other small possessions; and that their paper had been used up very fast. Elizabeth Miller recollected, or thought she did, that she had never seen her tortoise-shell handled knife since one day that she had lent it to Florry to sharpen a pencil; and her sister told how she had once come early to school, and found Florry looking over all the girls' books, pretending that she had lost her own history.
Some of the girls, indeed, took Florry's part vehemently, and threatened "to tell Miss Van Ness;" but Tilly boldly told them to tell, if they liked: it would only bring matters out, and Florry into disgrace all the sooner. In short, the Kindergarten had never been in such a ferment before.
Florry, meantime, had not the least idea of what was going on. She had for two days studied in the fourth grade room, where she had, at first, felt very lonely and homesick; but the girls were all kind to her; and Miss Reynolds, who had the care of the room, took pains to make her feel at home, and she was beginning to like it. She did not go out at the morning recess, but spent her time in the library, looking at a curious book of costumes which Miss Foster the librarian took down for her. Florry had applied for permission to remain another term in the lower room, but it had not been thought best; and she consoled herself by thinking that perhaps Emma would try harder, now that she had nobody to help her.
"So, Florry, you have found your way to the library already," said Mr. Hausen, kindly, as he came into the room, and found Florry busy with her book. "That is right. The books were made to be used."
"The girls here don't know half their privileges," remarked Miss Foster, when the president left the room. "When I was at Eaton College, the girls no more thought of going to the library for a book to read than they did of going to the moon."
"What was the use of having a library at all?" asked Florry.
"I don't know. I suppose to be looked at by visitors, and give a character to the school."
In the afternoon recess, Florry went down to meet her old school-mates in the little girls' playground, and was surprised by the reception she met with. A good many of the girls greeted her coldly, or not at all, and cast significant or contemptuous looks at each other; while others met her with more warmth and affection than ever. Among these last were Jenny Fleming and Emily Dean. Jenny ran to meet Florry, and kissed her on both cheeks; while Emily, who was less impulsive, put her arm through Florry's with a certain air of protection; casting, meantime, a glance of defiance at Priscilla and Tilly, who stood at a little distance.
"I should think you would be ashamed, Jenny," said Tilly. "What do you think your mother would say?"
"And I should think you would be ashamed; and so you will, Tilly Mansfield," retorted Jenny. "Very fine you will look, and a fine slice of humble-pie you will have to eat, when the truth comes out."
Tilly only tossed her head, as usual, and turned away to whisper anew with some of the other girls.
"What do they mean?" asked Florry, looking from one to the other, and quite bewildered by this reception. "Why do they treat me so?"
"Because they are just a set of dunces," returned Jenny.
"Because Tilly Mansfield has been telling stories about you," said Emily.
"There, Emily: we promised we would not tell."
"I didn't," said Emily. "I wouldn't, because I just meant to tell Florry. I think she ought to know. Florry, Tilly said you stole her watch that day you were there."
"Stole her watch!" repeated Florry, too much annoyed even to be angry. "What does she mean?"
Emily began at the beginning, and told Florry the whole story as she had heard it from Tilly. Emily was a very truthful girl, and she related the matter quietly and exactly as she had heard it.
"You see, nobody would have believed a word of it, only that Tilly said Emma Hausen told her that you had stolen some plants from her mother. She says Emma's mother told her never to tell; but Emma was angry because you went above her, and spoke of it before she thought; and then she asked Tilly not to tell. Oh, Florry, don't cry! It is not worth minding."
For Florry's head had sunk down on Jenny's shoulder, and was sobbing so violently that the girls were startled.
"What shall we do?" said Jenny.
"Shall we call Miss Van Ness, Florry? Can't we bring you anything?"
"No, don't call anybody," said Florry, trying to quiet herself. "Let us sit down here. I want to tell you something. Oh, girls, don't desert me; will you?"
"Of course we won't," said warmhearted little Jenny. "Sure, if I knew it was all true, I would stand by you just the same. What's the good of having a friend, if one is going to give them up the first minute they do anything wrong? Besides, I know you haven't done anything. I don't so much wonder at Tilly: she's not much, anyhow; but I am surprised at Emma."
"But it isn't true, of course," said Emily: "I mean what Emma said. 'We know the other isn't."
"I will tell you all about it," said Florry, drying her eyes and speaking with a great effort. "I did take Mrs. Hausen's red plant."
"Oh, Florry!"
"Just you be still, and let her tell her own story," said Emily, checking Jenny. "Well, Florry, and what then? What else did you do?"
Florry went on and told the whole story, from her first desire to carry off the red plant to her taking her fuchsia to Mrs. Hausen.
"You see, I couldn't carry back the plant I stole, and I had nothing else, only my fuchsia. I knew Mrs. Hausen had none like it, because she asked me to save a slip for her. So I told mother all about it, and she said I might; and the next morning, I went and carried the plant up there, and told Mrs. Hausen just as I told mother. Oh, girls, you can't think how good she was. She didn't want to take the plant at first; but she consented finally, because I wanted her to so much."
"Well, I shall never think much of Emma Hausen again," said Emily, decidedly. "I think she was even worse than Florry."
"Please, don't say so," said Florry. "I know just how it happened. Emma was disappointed and vexed because she did not pass; and so it came out before she thought. But, oh, what shall I do?"
"Tell your mother all about it," said Emily, who had full confidence in the power of "mother" to set everything right.
"I can't. She has gone over to see old Madam Hausen, and won't be home till to-morrow; and father has gone to the convention at A—."
"'Well, I know what I would do," said Jenny. "I would go right away and tell the president."
"Why, Jenny Fleming! Would you dare do such a thing?"
"Yes, I would then, Emily Dean. Why not? He wouldn't eat me up; and he is the best man that ever was. I would tell him in a minute."
"Yes: but, Jenny, the thing is, that I can't tell of myself without telling of Emma; and that would get her into trouble at home; because her mother charged her never to say one word about it," said Florry. "I know she did, because Emma told me so herself that day."
"I don't care if you stole fifty red plants, and blue ones, too!" exclaimed Jenny. "I do think you are the best girl that ever lived. But what will you do then? You can't go on so."
"I shall wait till I can see father or mother before I do anything," replied Florry. "As to the watch, Tilly has put it away somewhere, and forgotten it."
EATING HUMBLE-PIE.
WHEN Flora Lester went home that night, she was about as unhappy as a child could be. If she had been perfectly innocent—if she could have defied anybody to show that she had ever laid her hand on what did not belong to her—the matter would not have been quite so bad. The injustice would even then have been hard to bear; but she felt that she could have borne it better. But there was that unlucky red plant. And then that Emma should have told of her! That was the hardest of all.
Florry was too unhappy to cry, too unhappy to care anything about reading or eating, or playing with her kittens. Her father did not come home, as she expected, but sent a note to say that he should not return till the next day; so she could not follow out her resolution to tell him all about the trouble. Mrs. Hausen was not at home, either; and even if she had been, Florry felt that, as matters stood between herself and Emma, she could not ask that lady's advice.
"Oh, if I only had somebody to tell me what to do!" she murmured, as she sat looking out of the window. And as she said so, a sudden thought flashed across her, and she got up and put on her hat directly.
"Mary," she called, "I am going to see Aunt Eunice a little while. I shall not be gone long."
"Very well," returned Mary. "You needn't hurry home. I'll come after you, if it gets dark."
Aunt Eunice Whitney lived by herself, in a pretty little house on one of the upper streets of Round Springs. She was quite an old lady; and her husband being dead, and all her children married, she had her house to herself, except when one of her granddaughters was staying with her, and going to school. Aunt Eunice had passed through a great many troubles and sorrows in her time. She was a woman to whom every one who knew her went for advice and counsel in difficulties, and for comfort in sorrow; for she was a very wise woman and a most earnest Christian; and she seemed to know just what to say to every one. She was a distant relation of Dr. Lester's, and Florry, like almost all the young people in Round Springs, called her "Aunt Eunice."
Florry found her old friend knitting, with her large Bible open on the table before her, though she did not seem to be reading. And Aunt Eunice gave the little girl her usual hearty welcome.
"But thee seems to be in trouble, dear," said Aunt Eunice, who was a "Friend," and always spoke after their manner. "What can I do for thee? I don't like to see thy little face so overcast."
"I want to tell you all about it, please, Aunt Eunice," answered Florry, glad that the old lady had "broken the ice" for her. "I am in a great deal of trouble, and I don't know what to do; and father and mother are away."
"Sit down here," said Aunt Eunice, drawing a low chair to her side. "Sit down here, and tell me the whole story."
Florry did so, feeling her heart already a little cheered by Aunt Eunice's ready sympathy. When she had finished, Aunt Eunice sat a few minutes in silence, and then began turning over the leaves of her Bible, as if looking for something.
"Can thee see to read by this light?" she asked, turning to Florry.
"Oh, yes, ma'am," answered Florry.
"Then suppose we read a few verses. Maybe we shall find a message for thee here."
Florry read where Aunt Eunice pointed with her needle. It was the thirty-seventh Psalm.
"'Fret not thyself because of evil doers, neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity. For they shall soon be cut down like the grass, and wither as the green herb.'"
"'Trust in the Lord and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed.'"
At the fifth and sixth verses, Aunt Eunice paused, and applied the promise.
"That seems to be what thee wants, isn't it, dear? 'Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass. And he shall bring forth thy righteousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noonday. Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him . . . Cease from anger, and forsake wrath: fret not thyself in any wise to do evil.' It seems to me that is the counsel for thee to follow," said Aunt Eunice. "Just commit thy ways to him, and wait patiently upon him; and, no doubt, he will bring forth thy righteousness as the light! I think thee does love him already; don't thee, Florry?"
"Yes, indeed, I do," whispered Florry, as her friend put her arms around her and drew the little girl close to her side.
"Well, then, can't thee trust him to make all these things come out right? Can't thee commit thy ways unto him?"
"I would, if only I hadn't been so naughty about the plant," said Florry.
Aunt Eunice smiled rather sadly. "That's the way we are always hindering ourselves, dear—by going back and picking up our old sins, instead of leaving them behind us. Didn't thee ask him to forgive thee that sin?"
"Yes, Aunt Eunice."
"And don't thee know that he has forgiven it, and washed it all away? Don't thee know that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin?"
"Yes, Aunt Eunice. The Bible says so."
"Well, then, why should thee think that the sin which he has not only forgiven but washed away—made as if it had never been—is going to prevent him from helping thee now? Why, thee wouldn't let this matter hinder thee from helping Emma or even Tilly, would thee—especially if they said they were sorry, and asked thy forgiveness?"
"I wouldn't, anyway," answered Florry. "But, Aunt Eunice, suppose Mr. Mansfield should send me to the State Prison for stealing the watch?"
Aunt Eunice smiled. "Never fear, child. He can't send thee to prison; even if he should wish to; which he won't. There is no proof against thee. Put that thought out of thy mind for good. Very likely the watch will be found after all, and if it is not, nobody will think that thee took it. Now do as I tell thee. Commit thy ways unto the Lord, and trust in him, and wait for him to make thy innocence appear."
Florry went home feeling very much comforted. She read her Bible and said her prayers, and then lay down and went to sleep, feeling that she had a Friend in whom she could safely trust.
The next morning, Emma Hausen came to school again. She had had time to grow heartily ashamed of her anger against Florry, and of what she had said to Tilly Mansfield, especially since she had heard that Florry had asked leave to wait a term for her. Her first thought was to find Tilly, and give her a renewed charge not to repeat what she had said; and the next to see Florry, and give her the pretty presents she had brought her from the city. She found Tilly in the midst of a group of excited listeners in the school-room veranda, and heard her say:
"My father is coming home this morning, and then we shall see whether I am to be robbed or not."
"Robbed!" said Emma. "Who has robbed you?"
"Tilly's watch has been stolen," said Priscilla.
"What, out of the hole where she left it that day?" asked Emma. "I told you, Tilly, it wasn't safe to leave your watch there, under that stone. When did you miss it?"
The girls who stood round were astonished to see Tilly turn first pale and then scarlet, and then, after standing for a minute staring at Emma, rush down the steps and up the path which led to the stile.
"What do you mean, Emma? What stone?" asked Emily.
"Why, the stone where she put it on team-day," replied Emma, and then, guessing what had happened, she burst out laughing, and exclaimed:
"You don't mean to say that Tilly forgot where she put it, and then thought somebody had stolen it? That is too good!"
"It hasn't been any joke at all, I can tell you, Emma," said Emily, gravely. "Tilly missed her watch, and she has accused Flora Lester of taking it; and a great many of the girls believed her. Poor Florry has been treated shamefully. But let us go after Tilly, and see if she finds her watch."
The girls hurried up the path, and arrived in time to see Tilly draw forth her watch and chain safe and sound.
"Well, you are smart!" exclaimed Emma, contemptuously, while Tilly stood with her eyes on the ground, too much abashed to say a word.
"Did she really put it there, Emma?" asked several of the girls. "Did you see her?"
"Yes; of course I did. She was wearing it to school; and I told her the girls would laugh at her, and advised her to carry the watch home; but she wouldn't, and she put it in that hole. I was wondering, yesterday, whether she remembered to take care of it. But to go and say that Florry Lester took it! Tilly Mansfield, you deserve to be whipped! And what were the rest of you about, I should like to know?" said Emma, with increasing anger. "What were you all thinking about, to treat Florry so? The best girl that ever lived in the world, I do believe!"
"You needn't lay it all on us, Emma," answered Priscilla. "We never should have thought of such a thing, if you hadn't told Tilly yourself how Florry stole your mother's plant."
"I am sure I shouldn't," said Tilly, gathering courage; "but you did tell me yourself how Florry stole the plant."
It was now Emma's turn to blush. "I know I did; and it was a great shame," said she; "but didn't I tell you not to say anything about it?"
"As if that would do any good," remarked Emily. "If you don't want secrets told, you shouldn't tell them yourself."
"And while you were about it, why didn't you tell the rest,—how sorry Florry was, and how she gave mother her beautiful fuchsia to make amends?" cried Emma.
"Hush!" said Jenny Fleming. "Here comes Florry. She has been up to your house, Tilly."
Florry had indeed been up to see Tilly, and to beg her to try and remember when she had worn the watch last. Tilly had gone to school, however; and Florry, finding that she was likely to be late, had asked the housekeeper's permission to come the back way. She was walking slowly and looking on the ground, and, as she raised her eyes at the stile, she saw the girls all standing round, and Tilly with the watch and chain in her hand.
Emma sprang to meet her friend, threw her arms round her neck, and kissed her.
"Oh, Florry, can you ever forgive me!" she exclaimed. "It was all my fault; but please do forgive me and make up friends."
"What has happened?" asked Florry, bewildered. "Where did Tilly find her watch?"
"Just where she put it,—under the big stone there!" replied Emma.
"And I dare say she knew it was there all the time!" added Jenny Fleming. "She just wanted to make a fuss, and was angry at Florry for going above her."
"I didn't, either," said Tilly, bursting into tears. "I really and truly did forget all about it."
"Oh, yes; I dare say!"
"I presume she did, Jenny," said Florry; "for one does forget in that way sometimes. I know last week I hung my cloak in the closet under the stairs instead of in the hall, and I hunted the house over for it! I told mother I thought it had been stolen out of the wardrobe at school, for I could not remember wearing it home; but she said it would turn up; and so it did."
"Anyhow, she had no business to say you stole it!" said Elizabeth.
"You needn't say anything!" exclaimed Jenny. "You were just as bad as she was! I dare say your tortoise-shell knife will come in some such way!"
"Your knife is up in the drawing room table-drawer, Lizzy," said Florry. "I saw it there yesterday. And so the watch was safe all the time? How glad I am! How did you come to think of it, Tilly?"
"I didn't till Emma told me," sobbed Tilly; "it never came into my head once. I am real sorry I said you took it, Florry; I never will accuse anybody again as long as I live. But really and truly, I never remembered one word about wearing it that day. What a dunce I was!"
"We have all been foolish together, I think—Emma and all," remarked Priscilla. "I think we had better ask Florry to forgive the whole Kindergarten in a lump, all but Jenny and Emily!"
"Yes, do, please, Florry!" said several of the girls.
"Don't let us say any more about it," replied Florry. "I am so glad that the watch is found, I don't seem to care about anything else; but somehow I felt sure it would come. What a pretty one it is!"
"Hateful old thing!" said Tilly, still crying. "I never want to see it again. I mean to ask papa to sell it and let me give away the money."
"Oh, I wouldn't do that! The watch was not to blame," replied Florry; "and after all, girls, what Emma said was true."
"Yes; but then you tried to make amends," said Priscilla. "Tilly never told us that! If she had—"
"Oh, yes, throw it all on Tilly!" interrupted Jenny Fleming.
"No, I don't mean to throw it all on Tilly! I think we were all to blame," replied Priscilla; "but still, I do think it would have made a difference if she had told the whole story just as she heard it. She said Florry stole ever so many plants!"
"That is the worst of repeating stories; nobody ever gets them just right," observed Emily. "We shall hear next that Florry carried off the whole greenhouse."
"Well, I am sure I am sorry," said Tilly, "and I hope Florry will forgive me. I know I have done very wrong, and I wish I hadn't. I don't know how I can say any more than that."
"Of course you can't," answered Florry, kissing Tilly. "Come, don't let us say any more about it. There is the first bell ringing."
"I hope you will forgive me as well as Tilly, Flora," said Emma, as soon as she could get Flora alone. "I don't deserve it, I know; but if you knew how sorry I am about it—"
"I did forgive you before you asked me, Emma," answered Flora, gravely.
"I don't see how you could."
"It was hard," admitted Flora. "You see I cared more about what you said than I did about Tilly; but I knew I ought to, and that I wouldn't feel happy till I did. So I asked for help, and I had it," said Flora, reverently. "Somehow He seemed to take all the trouble and anger out of my heart, and I felt as quiet as could be. Aunt Eunice told me to commit my way to Him, and so I did; and He has brought it to pass."
Mr. Mansfield came back that morning, and Tilly met him at the door as she went home.
"Well, Tilly, what about your watch?" said he. "Have you found it?"
Tilly told the story of her watch.
"Just as I expected. I hope you have not told any one else what you said to me about Flora Lester's having taken it. The most absurd idea I ever heard of!"
Mr. Mansfield was very angry—more so than Tilly had ever seen him—when he learned how she had talked about Flora. He insisted on her going with him to Dr. Lester's, and making a formal apology both to Flora and her parents, and declared his intention to make her apologize before the whole school.
"Please don't, Mr. Mansfield," said Flora. "It will only make a fuss; and I am sure Tilly will be more careful another time; won't you, Tilly? Please don't say any more about it!"
"Well, I won't then, since you make it a personal favour, Florry," said Mr. Mansfield, at last. "But you must let me make you amends in some way. What can I do for you?"
"If it would not be asking too much," said Mrs. Lester, who saw that Mr. Mansfield really wished to atone for Tilly's unkindness, "I think I know what Florry would like very much, and that is one of your pretty Spitz puppies when they are old enough."
"She shall have her choice of the whole litter; sha'n't she Tilly?"
"Yes, indeed," answered Tilly; "and I will give her my gray parrot besides."
Florry would not consent to take the parrot, but she was very glad of the pretty little dog. Mr. Mansfield, however, would not be quite satisfied, and the next time he went to town, he bought Florry a beautiful little watch and chain, the watch being marked with her name.
The girls at school were very cold to Tilly for some time, and two or three—those who had been most ready to believe evil of Florry—insisted on thinking that she knew where her watch was all the while. But Tilly herself was very humble, and both Florry and Emma took her part vigorously; and at last the whole matter was forgotten, or only referred to incidentally as "that fuss about Tilly Mansfield's watch."
THE END.