CHAPTER XXV. ANOTHER SCANDAL AND ANOTHER "EXPLANATION"
Faith went early to Sunday School and was seated in the corner of herclass pew before any one came. Therefore, the dreadful truth did notburst upon any one until Faith left the class pew near the door to walkup to the manse pew after Sunday School. The church was already halffilled and all who were sitting near the aisle saw that the minister'sdaughter had boots on but no stockings!
Faith's new brown dress, which Aunt Martha had made from an ancientpattern, was absurdly long for her, but even so it did not meet herboot-tops. Two good inches of bare white leg showed plainly.
Faith and Carl sat alone in the manse pew. Jerry had gone into thegallery to sit with a chum and the Blythe girls had taken Una with them.The Meredith children were given to "sitting all over the church" inthis fashion and a great many people thought it very improper. Thegallery especially, where irresponsible lads congregated and were knownto whisper and suspected of chewing tobacco during service, was noplace, for a son of the manse. But Jerry hated the manse pew at thevery top of the church, under the eyes of Elder Clow and his family. Heescaped from it whenever he could.
Carl, absorbed in watching a spider spinning its web at the window, didnot notice Faith's legs. She walked home with her father after churchand he never noticed them. She got on the hated striped stockings beforeJerry and Una arrived, so that for the time being none of the occupantsof the manse knew what she had done. But nobody else in Glen St. Marywas ignorant of it. The few who had not seen soon heard. Nothing elsewas talked of on the way home from church. Mrs. Alec Davis said it wasonly what she expected, and the next thing you would see some of thoseyoung ones coming to church with no clothes on at all. The president ofthe Ladies' Aid decided that she would bring the matter up at the nextAid meeting, and suggest that they wait in a body on the minister andprotest. Miss Cornelia said that she, for her part, gave up. There wasno use worrying over the manse fry any longer. Even Mrs. Dr. Blythe felta little shocked, though she attributed the occurrence solely to Faith'sforgetfulness. Susan could not immediately begin knitting stockings forFaith because it was Sunday, but she had one set up before any one elsewas out of bed at Ingleside the next morning.
"You need not tell me anything but that it was old Martha's fault,Mrs. Dr. dear." she told Anne. "I suppose that poor little child had nodecent stockings to wear. I suppose every stocking she had was in holes,as you know very well they generally are. And _I_ think, Mrs. Dr. dear,that the Ladies' Aid would be better employed in knitting some for themthan in fighting over the new carpet for the pulpit platform. _I_ am nota Ladies' Aider, but I shall knit Faith two pairs of stockings, out ofthis nice black yarn, as fast as my fingers can move and that you maytie to. Never shall I forget my sensations, Mrs. Dr. dear, when I sawa minister's child walking up the aisle of our church with no stockingson. I really did not know what way to look."
"And the church was just full of Methodists yesterday, too," groanedMiss Cornelia, who had come up to the Glen to do some shopping and runinto Ingleside to talk the affair over. "I don't know how it is, butjust as sure as those manse children do something especially awful thechurch is sure to be crowded with Methodists. I thought Mrs. DeaconHazard's eyes would drop out of her head. When she came out of churchshe said, 'Well, that exhibition was no more than decent. I do pity thePresbyterians.' And we just had to TAKE it. There was nothing one couldsay."
"There was something _I_ could have said, Mrs. Dr. dear, if I had heardher," said Susan grimly. "I would have said, for one thing, that in myopinion clean bare legs were quite as decent as holes. And I would havesaid, for another, that the Presbyterians did not feel greatly inneed of pity seeing that they had a minister who could PREACH and theMethodists had NOT. I could have squelched Mrs. Deacon Hazard, Mrs. Drdear, and that you may tie to."
"I wish Mr. Meredith didn't preach quite so well and looked after hisfamily a little better," retorted Miss Cornelia. "He could at leastglance over his children before they went to church and see that theywere quite properly clothed. I'm tired making excuses for him, believeME."
Meanwhile, Faith's soul was being harrowed up in Rainbow Valley. MaryVance was there and, as usual, in a lecturing mood. She gave Faithto understand that she had disgraced herself and her father beyondredemption and that she, Mary Vance, was done with her. "Everybody" wastalking, and "everybody" said the same thing.
"I simply feel that I can't associate with you any longer," sheconcluded.
"WE are going to associate with her then," cried Nan Blythe. Nansecretly thought Faith HAD done a awful thing, but she wasn't going tolet Mary Vance run matters in this high-handed fashion. "And if YOU arenot you needn't come any more to Rainbow Valley, MISS Vance."
Nan and Di both put their arms around Faith and glared defiance at Mary.The latter suddenly crumpled up, sat down on a stump and began to cry.
"It ain't that I don't want to," she wailed. "But if I keep in withFaith people'll be saying I put her up to doing things. Some are sayingit now, true's you live. I can't afford to have such things said of me,now that I'm in a respectable place and trying to be a lady. And _I_never went bare-legged in church in my toughest days. I'd never havethought of doing such a thing. But that hateful old Kitty Alec saysFaith has never been the same girl since that time I stayed in themanse. She says Cornelia Elliott will live to rue the day she took mein. It hurts my feelings, I tell you. But it's Mr. Meredith I'm reallyworried over."
"I think you needn't worry about him," said Di scornfully. "It isn'tlikely necessary. Now, Faith darling, stop crying and tell us why youdid it."
Faith explained tearfully. The Blythe girls sympathized with her, andeven Mary Vance agreed that it was a hard position to be in. But Jerry,on whom the thing came like a thunderbolt, refused to be placated. SoTHIS was what some mysterious hints he had got in school that day meant!He marched Faith and Una home without ceremony, and the Good-ConductClub held an immediate session in the graveyard to sit in judgment onFaith's case.
"I don't see that it was any harm," said Faith defiantly. "Not MUCH ofmy legs showed. It wasn't WRONG and it didn't hurt anybody."
"It will hurt Dad. You KNOW it will. You know people blame him wheneverwe do anything queer."
"I didn't think of that," muttered Faith.
"That's just the trouble. You didn't think and you SHOULD have thought.That's what our Club is for--to bring us up and MAKE us think. Wepromised we'd always stop and think before doing things. You didn't andyou've got to be punished, Faith--and real hard, too. You'll wear thosestriped stockings to school for a week for punishment."
"Oh, Jerry, won't a day do--two days? Not a whole week!"
"Yes, a whole week," said inexorable Jerry. "It is fair--ask Jem Blytheif it isn't."
Faith felt she would rather submit then ask Jem Blythe about sucha matter. She was beginning to realize that her offence was a quiteshameful one.
"I'll do it, then," she muttered, a little sulkily.
"You're getting off easy," said, Jerry severely. "And no matter how wepunish you it won't help father. People will always think you just didit for mischief, and they'll blame father for not stopping it. We cannever explain it to everybody."
This aspect of the case weighed on Faith's mind. Her own condemnationshe could bear, but it tortured her that her father should be blamed. Ifpeople knew the true facts of the case they would not blame him. But howcould she make them known to all the world? Getting up in church, as shehad once done, and explaining the matter was out of the question. Faithhad heard from Mary Vance how the congregation had looked upon thatperformance and realized that she must not repeat it. Faith worried overthe problem for half a week. Then she had an inspiration and promptlyacted upon it. She spent that evening in the garret, with a lamp and anexercise book, writing busily, with flushed cheeks and shining eyes. Itwas the very thing! How clever she was to have thought of it! It wouldput everything right and explain everything and yet cause no scandal. Itwas eleven o'clock when she had finis
hed to her satisfaction and creptdown to bed, dreadfully tired, but perfectly happy.
In a few days the little weekly published in the Glen under the name of_The Journal_ came out as usual, and the Glen had another sensation. Aletter signed "Faith Meredith" occupied a prominent place on the frontpage and ran as follows:--
"TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:
"I want to explain to everybody how it was I came to go to church withoutstockings on, so that everybody will know that father was not to blameone bit for it, and the old gossips need not say he is, because it isnot true. I gave my only pair of black stockings to Lida Marsh, becauseshe hadn't any and her poor little feet were awful cold and I was sosorry for her. No child ought to have to go without shoes and stockingsin a Christian community before the snow is all gone, and I think the W.F. M. S. ought to have given her stockings. Of course, I know they aresending things to the little heathen children, and that is all right anda kind thing to do. But the little heathen children have lots more warmweather than we have, and I think the women of our church ought to lookafter Lida and not leave it all to me. When I gave her my stockings Iforgot they were the only black pair I had without holes, but I amglad I did give them to her, because my conscience would have beenuncomfortable if I hadn't. When she had gone away, looking so proud andhappy, the poor little thing, I remembered that all I had to wear werethe horrid red and blue things Aunt Martha knit last winter for meout of some yarn that Mrs. Joseph Burr of Upper Glen sent us. It wasdreadfully coarse yarn and all knots, and I never saw any of Mrs. Burr'sown children wearing things made of such yarn. But Mary Vance says Mrs.Burr gives the minister stuff that she can't use or eat herself, andthinks it ought to go as part of the salary her husband signed to pay,but never does.
"I just couldn't bear to wear those hateful stockings. They were so uglyand rough and felt so scratchy. Everybody would have made fun of me. Ithought at first I'd pretend to be sick and not go to church next day,but I decided I couldn't do that, because it would be acting a lie, andfather told us after mother died that was something we must never, neverdo. It is just as bad to act a lie as to tell one, though I know somepeople, right here in the Glen, who act them, and never seem to feel abit bad about it. I will not mention any names, but I know who they areand so does father.
"Then I tried my best to catch cold and really be sick by standing on thesnowbank in the Methodist graveyard with my bare feet until Jerry pulledme off. But it didn't hurt me a bit and so I couldn't get out of goingto church. So I just decided I would put my boots on and go that way. Ican't see why it was so wrong and I was so careful to wash my legs justas clean as my face, but, anyway, father wasn't to blame for it. He wasin the study thinking of his sermon and other heavenly things, and Ikept out of his way before I went to Sunday School. Father does not lookat people's legs in church, so of course he did not notice mine, but allthe gossips did and talked about it, and that is why I am writing thisletter to the _Journal_ to explain. I suppose I did very wrong, sinceeverybody says so, and I am sorry and I am wearing those awful stockingsto punish myself, although father bought me two nice new black pairs assoon as Mr. Flagg's store opened on Monday morning. But it was all myfault, and if people blame father for it after they read this they arenot Christians and so I do not mind what they say.
"There is another thing I want to explain about before I stop. MaryVance told me that Mr. Evan Boyd is blaming the Lew Baxters for stealingpotatoes out of his field last fall. They did not touch his potatoes.They are very poor, but they are honest. It was us did it--Jerry andCarl and I. Una was not with us at the time. We never thought it wasstealing. We just wanted a few potatoes to cook over a fire in RainbowValley one evening to eat with our fried trout. Mr. Boyd's field was thenearest, just between the valley and the village, so we climbed over hisfence and pulled up some stalks. The potatoes were awful small, becauseMr. Boyd did not put enough fertilizer on them and we had to pull up alot of stalks before we got enough, and then they were not much biggerthan marbles. Walter and Di Blythe helped us eat them, but they did notcome along until we had them cooked and did not know where we got them,so they were not to blame at all, only us. We didn't mean any harm, butif it was stealing we are very sorry and we will pay Mr. Boyd for themif he will wait until we grow up. We never have any money now because weare not big enough to earn any, and Aunt Martha says it takes every centof poor father's salary, even when it is paid up regularly--and it isn'toften--to run this house. But Mr. Boyd must not blame the Lew Baxtersany more, when they were quite innocent, and give them a bad name.
"Yours respectfully,
"FAITH MEREDITH."
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