Monica's Choice

by George Bird Grinnell

  *CHAPTER XXIII.*

  *"IT'S ALL SURPRISES, NOWADAYS!"*

  "Now, let's get to business."

  And the quartette, _alias_ the "China Committee," as Amethyst hadplayfully nicknamed them, gathered round the large table in the vicarageplayroom and began to consider ways and means.

  "I've got a box full of patterns, and a long letter from Miss Daverel,"began Monica, who had been elected president by virtue of her munificentgift towards the Expenses Fund, and who in consequence, occupied the"chair" at the head of the table. "Let us look at each thing, and I'llread to you how it's made, and then we'll decide whether we canundertake to make some like it, or not."

  Half an hour was spent in admiring and examining the eighteen or twentypretty and useful little "gifts," any, or all, of which, Miss Daverelsaid would be so acceptable to Chinese girls. Simply made children'sclothing, a gaily dressed doll, bright knitted cuffs, a bookmarker, awoollen ball, a gay cretonne bag (containing a thimble, cotton, tinypair of scissors and a pincushion), a knitted comforter, small Scripturepictures mounted on card--these were some of the articles the boxcontained.

  "Most of them are quite easy to make," said Amethyst, who was keenlyinterested; "I should like to make a work-bag best, I think."

  "I like dressing dolls," said Elsa, who was carefully examining theclothes of the sample she held in her hand.

  "Oh, doll's clothes are awfully finicking to make!" was Olive's opinion;"but I think I could paste pictures on cards, like that. What shall youmake, Monica?"

  "I don't know, I'm sure. I am not much good at needlework. Perhaps Icould knit a scarf, or some cuffs. But we must think about going tomarket first. Who will make a list of what we want?"

  "I will." And Olive produced a pencil and paper with alacrity, and bydint of many references to Miss Daverel's directions, for quantities, alist of requisites sufficient to start with was eventually drawn up.

  "Now about a working-party, Monica. When shall we begin, and whom shallwe ask to join?"

  It was unanimously decided that they would meet on Saturday afternoons,for a couple of hours, once a month to begin with, and every fortnightafterwards, if they got on well, and Mrs. Drury and Lois Franklyn wereto be asked to take it in turns to superintend things. Several girls'names were proposed, and seconded, as suitable for invitation, and thenMonica said she would like to ask Lily Howell.

  "Oh, no!" cried Amethyst, in dismay; "we don't want her."

  And Olive said: "I should think not, indeed!"

  But Monica, who read approval in Elsa's glance, insisted that there wasno reason why she should not join them, and realising that Monica wasreally the prime mover in the whole concern, the other two werereluctantly compelled to acquiesce; Amethyst comforting Olive andherself by remarking: "It's not the least bit likely that she will come,that's one good thing."

  But contrary to Amethyst's expectations and wishes, she did. And thusit came to pass, on the following Saturday when the quartette, with veryvarying feelings, were waiting the arrival of the half-dozen or so oftheir companions who had promised to come and help them, that LilyHowell was shown into the playroom, the first of any to put in anappearance.

  Monica, suddenly overwhelmed with a terrible fit of shyness, shook handsstiffly, and could not think of a single thing to say. But Elsa came tothe rescue, and soon interested Lily in the work they were going to do,showing and explaining one thing after another, until the newcomercaught the infection, and was very ready to do her share.

  Indeed, that was the general opinion expressed Mrs. Drury, who, at thegirls' earnest request, acted as spokeswoman, explained more fully theobject of the little working-party, and with happy tact soon seteverybody at their ease, having provided each one with exactly the pieceof work which she had a fancy for doing.

  For at least half an hour the tongues wagged busily, and many were thequestions asked, for the work in most cases was quite novel; buteventually all were settled, and then Mrs. Drury read part of a bookwhich Miss Daverel had suggested they should start with--"Children inBlue, and What They Do," one of the most delightful and fascinatingbooks ever written with a view to interesting English girls in theirChinese sisters.

  By the end of the afternoon every one of the girls had become quite asenthusiastic as even Monica could wish, and when the new missionary boxhad been handed round, it began to feel quite heavy.

  "What are you going to do with all the things when we have made them?"asked one of the visitors, and Monica replied that they wanted tocollect a nice number, and let Miss Daverel have them to take back withher when she returned to China, in about a year; and if they had morethan were wanted for her, the missionary had sent the address of a depotin London, where some ladies would gladly forward any gifts sent tothem.

  "Are you going to have a working party every Saturday?" Gipsy Monroeenquired, as they folded up their work. She was making a queer littlecotton jacket, and was eager to go on with it.

  "Only once a month, we thought," replied Monica; "we didn't suppose youwould want to come oftener."

  But every one insisted that they should meet every fortnight, at least;and so it was arranged.

  "It _has_ been nice, hasn't it?"

  It was Amethyst who actually said the words, as they put away the workand cleared up the room after their visitors had gone, preparatory togoing down to the dining-room for tea; but all the others were thinkingthe same thing. There were three very happy girls that evening, at anyrate, out of the four.

  Amethyst whispered to her mother, in that hour of confidences, when thelight is waning outdoors, and the gas has not been lighted within, thatshe still meant to be a speaker when she grew up, but she was quite,quite sure now that it would have to be about missionary work, insteadof temperance; would mumsie mind very much? And Mrs. Drury imprinted akiss upon the upturned brow, and repressed an inclination to smile atthe rapidity with which the alteration in subjects had been made, andsaid that she thought perhaps there would be plenty of opportunities forher to plead on behalf of both causes, if her little daughter everbecame a "platform woman."

  Olive slipped her arm through her twin-sister's, as they walked home inthe dusk, and talked more frankly than she had done for a long time, andElsa's heart grew light about her. She felt there was no end to whatOlive could do, if once she started in the right direction, for she knewthere were immense capabilities in her sister, such as she herself wouldnever possess. And Elsa, who, ever since the meeting at Sandyshore, hadhad a great desire to become a missionary like Miss Daverel, when shegrew up, but felt convinced that she would never be thought suitable,began to hope and pray that God would choose Olive instead. Howsplendid it would be if Olive, as well as Roger, should some day takethe Gospel to the heathen!

  Monica being rapidly driven home in the brougham which had been sent forher, reviewed the afternoon with girlish satisfaction. It was nice ofthe girls to come, nicer of them to be interested, and nicer still thatthey should be willing to meet more often than they had expected. Butit was nicest of all to know (and the knowledge made her very humble)that she, Monica Beauchamp, was being enabled in a strength not her own,to walk along the pathway of life, in a way that was pleasing to herMaster and helpful to others.

  Mrs. Beauchamp was very interested in hearing all the details of theafternoon's work, and delighted Monica by offering to knit somecomforters and cuffs during the long winter evenings that were coming.She would undertake to buy all the wool herself, she said, so that the"Expenses Fund" might last as long as possible.

  "That's very kind, grannie," said Monica, with a smile, "for I can seeour money will soon melt. We have spent nearly thirty shillings,already!"

  "Out of your five pounds? Did none of the others contribute anything?"asked the old lady.

  "Oh, yes, seven or eight shillings between them, grannie. But theycould not do more: Amethyst has very little pocket-money, I know, and Ithink the Franklyns are quite poor." Monica
dropped her voice to awhisper. Not even to her grandmother could she explain her reasons forthinking so; but first, the barely furnished rooms at the doctor's, andthen the very, very simple and inexpensive mourning which was all thatcould be afforded for the grown-up daughters, as well as for the youngerchildren, told their own tale, which Monica, brought up as she had beenin the lap of luxury, thought the essence of poverty.

  "The doctor's practice is not so large as his family," remarked Mrs.Beauchamp, with grim humour. "When is Elsa's birthday, Monica?" sheadded, after a short pause.

  The girl, who had been thinking deeply, started at the sudden andapparently irrelevant question.

  "Why, next Saturday, grannie, the same day as Olive's, of course." Whatcould have made her grandmother ask?

  Probably she looked her surprise, for the old lady said: "You need notbe afraid I am going to give them five-pound notes to squander onheathen Chinese," but her smile belied her words. "I was wondering howmuch younger they are than you."

  "Just over a year: they will be fifteen on their birthday. It will be avery sad day for them; Olive says Elsa can't bear to think of a birthdaywithout their mother."

  "Poor children," said Mrs. Beauchamp, in tones of pity; then, as if tochange the subject, she said: "I suppose Amethyst Drury is youngeragain?"

  "Oh, yes, she won't be fifteen until next summer, only she is so quickand clever that she is quite as forward at school as those who areolder. I am much the oldest in our form," added Monica, with a sigh.Her backwardness in many subjects had been a source of trouble to herlately.

  "I expect you will know enough by the time you leave school, my dear, ifyou make the most of the next two years," said her grandmother kindly."I have no fancy for you to become a blue-stocking."

  "I am afraid there is no fear of that, grannie!" and Monica laughedmerrily. "I am far too big a dunce. Little Thistle will do the best ofus all, I expect, but Elsa and Olive have to work hard, because theymust earn their living when they leave school. Olive wants to go in forart, she says; and she is so clever at drawing I expect she will geton."

  "H'm! it's a pity she hasn't a fancy for cooking or washing," said theold lady bluntly; "either of those occupations would be more likely toprovide her with food and clothing than dabbling about with messypaints. I expect my little Elsa is far more sensible, and means to be ahome-bird."

  "No, grannie, she will have to do something; for Miss Franklyn canmanage all the housekeeping. I _think_ Elsa hopes some day that shemight be a nurse in a children's hospital, but she has not said anythingabout it lately."

  "Sensible girl. Now get the book, Monica, and we will have somereading."

  It was not until the twins' birthday that Monica realised what all hergrandmother's questions were aiming at, and then she understood!

  "What time do the girls come, Monica," asked Mrs. Beauchamp, as they satlonger than usual over their breakfast, there being no need to hurry,for Saturday was a whole holiday.

  Monica looked up in surprise, for it had been all arranged before thatthe Franklyns should come at eleven, and remain the whole day at CarsonRise, in order that their birthday might not be spent among surroundingswhich would remind them continually of their loss. Amethyst Drury hadbeen invited, too.

  "At eleven, granny."

  "Oh, yes, of course. How are you going to amuse yourselves, Monica?"

  "I don't know, I'm sure, grannie; we might get a game of croquet-golf,or tennis, if the grass is dry enough." And Monica looked criticallyout upon the beautiful lawn, which was the pride of the gardener'sheart.

  "I have secured a new 'amusement' for you," said Mrs. Beauchamp, hereyes twinkling with fun. "I was going to say 'game,' but it is hardlythat."

  "What can it be? Not badminton?" queried Monica, all excitement.

  "No, not badminton," repeated her grandmother, with a smile. "I hardlythink you will guess, so as soon as you have finished breakfast we willgo and see it."

  "I finished ages ago," said Monica, as she pushed back her chair withalacrity; "I am curious, grannie." And she slipped her arm through theold lady's (a favourite habit nowadays), and they went together to alarge summer-house where the croquet and tennis sets were kept.

  "Is it a small game, or whatever you call it, grannie?"

  "Not very small," was the amused reply, "but here we are, and you canjudge for yourself."

  She fitted a key in the lock, and opened the door, and Monica gazed inutter astonishment at what she saw; for, resting on its own stand in themiddle of the quaint, octagonal summer-house, was a beautiful, perfectlynew bicycle!

  "MONICA GAZED IN UTTER ASTONISHMENT."]

  "Oh, grannie!" Only an exclamation, but who can describe all that wascontained in those two words? and Monica almost squeezed the breath outof the old lady's body with the energy with which she hugged her.

  "There, there, that will do, Monica; don't quite strangle me," protestedMrs. Beauchamp; but all the same, she keenly enjoyed her grandchild'sunqualified delight. "Do you like it?" she added, as Monica examinedand admired the bicycle to her heart's content.

  "I can't _think_ why you have given it to me, grannie!" was the answer,if answer it could be called.

  And Mrs. Beauchamp said she would find the reason inside the littlebasket fastened to the handle-bars.

  The old lady turned away, and pretended to look out of one of the littlecoloured glass windows, while Monica read the few words on a tiny cardwhich she found:--

  "For an unselfish girl, from her loving GRANNIE."

  A lump rose in Monica's throat as she stepped across the littlesummer-house and bent down and kissed the face which only a few shortmonths ago she had thought so stern and unlovable. _How_ differenteverything was nowadays!

  "I didn't do it for a reward, grannie dear," she whispered. "I neverdreamt of such a thing. I _quite_ gave up all thought of the bicyclewhen I chose the five pounds."

  "I know you did, my child," replied the old lady, while she furtivelywiped her eyes, which were suspiciously moist, although she was smilingnow; "but you see, _I_ didn't! And as I knew nothing about thesethings, I took Mr. Bertram into my confidence, and told him to choosejust the right kind and size; and I should think he has done his workvery well. Now you will have something to amuse your friends with,to-day."

  "We shall have to take great care not to knock it about," said Monica.

  "Ah! that reminds me: Mr. Bertram advised your learning to ride on anold one first, so I have ordered Brown's to send a man over with onefrom Osmington this morning, and if you like to spend a little time inhaving a lesson, he can stay. I daresay the girls would find itamusing."

  "To see me tumble off, grannie?" cried Monica merrily.

  "Well, don't hurt your ankle again, or anything else," cautioned hergrandmother; "I should prefer to hand you over whole to your father whenhe comes."

  The next hour passed quickly, and then the Franklyns and Amethystarrived.

  Monica, all excitement, took them straight to the summer-house, notnoticing, in her eagerness, that her friends seemed quite as excited asherself. But they no sooner saw the bicycle than Olive, who couldcontain herself no longer, exclaimed: "It's _exactly_ the same!" andthen it was Monica's turn to look puzzled.

  However, the mystery was soon cleared up, as she learnt that there hadbeen a great surprise at the doctor's that morning, too; a bicycle, theexact counterpart of Monica's, having been delivered there addressed to,"The Misses Elsa and Olive Franklyn"; and a little note attached to itstated that it was a birthday gift to the twins, with love and bestwishes from Mrs. Beauchamp.

  "How splendid of grannie!" cried Monica enthusiastically; "now we shallhave some lovely rides together."

  "Won't it be jolly?" said Olive, who was beside herself with pleasure,and Elsa's quietly happy face was good to see.

  "Poor Thistle, you are the only one left out! Never mind, you shall usemine sometimes," M
onica said, suddenly remembering that this newdeparture would make Amethyst feel rather out of it.

  She was delighted when Amethyst replied with glee: "But I am going tohave one of my own very soon. Father promised me he would get me onethis autumn, and he said the other day he had seen one which was justwhat he liked, only a little too big for me, so he has ordered asmaller-sized one. I meant to have given you _such_ a surprise."

  "I think it's all surprises nowadays," said Monica; "how little any ofus dreamt last half-term holiday that we should all be riding our ownbicycles before the next one arrived!"

  "We wanted to bring ours up to show you," put in Elsa, "but Mrs.Beauchamp, in her note, asked us not to. We were dreadfully afraid thatperhaps she didn't want you to know, Monica. But that isn't like her,and it wouldn't have been any pleasure if we couldn't tell you."

  "I should think not! Dear old grannie, I can guess why she said that.A man from Osmington is coming up this morning to give us some lessonson an old one. Why, there he is, and grannie too!"

  All four girls crossed the lawn, and while the twins were trying in vainto express to Mrs. Beauchamp the delight that her handsome present hadgiven them, Monica and Amethyst spoke to the man, and inspected thebicycle he had brought, and which Jack was sniffing suspiciously.

  The greater part of the day, first with the teacher, and afterwards withonly each other to hold the machine up, was spent on the wide, straightdrive, which was a charming place to practise upon. And if thequartette were _all_ quite tired out as they bade each other "good-bye,"they were all agreed that it was well worth it, to be able to balancethemselves and even go a few yards without assistance!