CHAPTER X.
A DISAPPOINTMENT.
The preparations for the examination had not interfered with Cecille'steaching. She came as regularly, stayed as long, and seemed as welcometo Clara and Grace as when they had only their usual employments. It wasthe last Wednesday in November, and just one week before the day fixedfor the examination, that, knowing Cecille would be at Hazel Grove, Idetermined to walk over and spend the morning with her grandmother. Onmy way I met Cecille. She was walking very briskly, but stopped to shakehands with me.
"I am going to see your grandmother, Cecille," said I.
"I am very glad; I will not now have any thing to make me sorry to-day.This is one of my bright days. Do you know why?"
I shook my head.
"No?--Do you not know that this is my pay-day? Grandmamma will soon haveher flannel, if you help me as you promised, and she wants it in thisweather."
I congratulated Cecille on her coming pleasure, promised her my help,and we parted.
I spent my morning very agreeably with Madame L'Estrange, yet Ilistened to Mrs. Daly's clock, which stood on the mantelpiece, andwatched its hands with as much impatience as if I had been weary andlonged to get away. The truth was, I was impatient for Cecille's coming,which I had determined to await, that I might have the pleasure ofseeing her happy looks when her wishes were accomplished and the moneywas actually in her hands. Did you ever observe how slowly the hands ofa clock appear to move when they are watched? I thought this morningthat the hour from ten to eleven was the longest I had ever passed. Itdid pass, however, and at length I saw the hour hand at eleven and theminute hand at twelve. Now I began to watch the windows, for I thoughtthat Cecille must soon be in sight. But here again I was disappointed,and both her grandmother and myself had more than once expressed oursurprise at her delay, before she appeared;--and then I could scarcelybelieve it was the same Cecille whom I had seen in the morning, boundingalong as if her feet scarce touched the earth. She walked now slowly andpensively, and I even fancied once that I saw her wipe her eyes.
As she came near the house, however, she looked up and her step becamemore brisk. She entered the room where we sat. I looked at heranxiously, but she turned her face away as if she could not bear to meetmy eye, and walking straight up to her grandmother, put a parcel intoher hand and stood still by her side.
"You do not speak to your friend, my dear," said Madame L'Estrangewithout opening the parcel, about which she seemed to feel no curiosity.
Cecille put her hand in mine without speaking--then looked again at hergrandmother, who had by this time slowly unfolded the packet. She lookedat its contents, and then lifting up her face with a smile to Cecille,said, "Ah, little pilferer! where is the rest?"
In a choked voice Cecille answered, "There is no more."
"There is no more!" exclaimed Madame L'Estrange; "why how is this,Cecille? This is but half of what you have always received for a month'steaching."
Cecille tried to answer, but in vain. Her throat swelled, her lipquivered, and throwing herself upon her grandmother's bosom, she burstinto tears. Madame L'Estrange was, as you may easily suppose, greatlydistressed. She stroked Cecille's hair, pressed her lips to her head,calling her at the same time by every endearing name which the Frenchlanguage furnishes, and repeatedly asking, "What is the matter? Has anyone been harsh to my child? Cecille, what have they done to you, mydarling?"
"Nothing, grandmamma," sobbed out Cecille; "I was only grieved because Ihad no more money to bring you to-day."
"My dear child! I am ashamed of you, Cecille. You should have been morethankful for this, which will pay Mrs. Daly, and we owe no one else."
"I know it, grandmamma. Besides, Clara will pay me next week when herfather comes for her, and that is a very little while to wait."
"And what made you grieve so unreasonably, Cecille?"
Cecille looked at me with a half smile as she answered, "Because Iwanted that money just to-day very much, grandmamma."
"And why just to-day, Cecille?"
"Ah, grandmamma! that is a secret," and Cecille now laughed with as muchglee as if she had never cried in her life.
The old lady laughed too; but she said, "Take care, Cecille,--it is notwell for little girls to have secrets from their grandmammas."
"This is a very harmless secret," said I.
Madame L'Estrange looked at me with some surprise as she said, "You knowit then?"
"Yes," said I; "but you must not be jealous that Cecille chose me forher confidant, all little girls do. Mrs. Wilmot's children have justbeen consulting me on a very important secret."
"They told me about it to-day," said Cecille quickly, "and I asked themto let me tell grandmamma. They were quite willing I should, so you neednot mind speaking of it."
The story of the examination and of the presents prepared for Mrs.Wilmot on that day, was soon told to Madame L'Estrange, who entered intothe little plot of the children with great enjoyment. After we hadtalked of it a while, I said to Cecille that the bracelet Grace waspreparing did not please Clara very much, and indeed I scarcely thoughtit handsome enough for the locket.
"I wish she had told me sooner," said Cecille, "I would have shown herhow to weave a handsome one. I learned from a lady who came over fromFrance with us. I have done several since I came here for Mr. Brennerthe jeweller."
"Then perhaps you made the one which Clara wanted Grace to buy, and washalf angry with her for not buying."
"I dare say it is one of mine; but if it is, Grace could not buy it, forit would cost two dollars and a half, and she had but little more than adollar left after paving me to-day."
"How did you find that out, Cecille?" asked her grandmother.
"Because, grandmamma, Grace saw that I looked very sorry when Clara saidshe could not pay me, and she followed me out and begged me to take whatshe had left, and to pay her back when Clara paid me."
"You did not take it I hope, my dear."
"No, grandmamma, though I would have done it if I had not known that youwould dislike it, and so I told Grace."
"You were right, Cecille, in not taking it. Better even weep as you havedone to-day for an ungratified wish, than borrow money and perhaps bedisappointed in your expectation of repaying it."
"I shall not be disappointed in that, grandmamma, for Clara says shewill certainly pay me the next week."
"Clara no doubt once thought, my dear, that she would certainly pay youto-day. She may be mistaken again."
"Clara was very sorry, grandmamma," said Cecille kindly.
"I do not doubt it, my dear. She is, I dare say, a good little girl andmeans well, but she is thoughtless, or she would not have spent hermoney even on a present for Mrs. Wilmot before she had paid her debts.What she owed to you was in truth not her own, but yours."
"Grandmamma, don't be angry with Clara. You could not help loving her ifyou knew her, she is so generous."
"I am not angry with her, my dear. I do love her for her kindness toyou, and from many things you have told me, I believe she is generous,but, Cecille, she is not just."
"That locket cost a great deal, I dare say, grandmamma, and then Claragives something to everybody that asks for money. She is so generous."
"Generous but not just, Cecille, when she gives what she already owes toanother."
I saw that Cecille was hardly satisfied with her grandmother's views ofClara, and yet they were so true that she could not oppose them.
For my part, I had been thinking of Grace. My readers will not haveforgotten that Grace's having changed the bill she at first intendedgiving the blind man for a half dollar, and her contenting herself withgiving her mother a bracelet of her own weaving, instead of spendingmoney on her present, as the other girls had done, had made me fear thatshe might be a little selfish--that her money might be saved for somegratification that should be entirely her own. I now began to hope thatGrace was not less generous, but that she was more just than Clara.
"Is not Grace generous too?"
said I to Cecille.
"Is not Grace generous!" she repeated, as if surprised at my question.
"Have you ever thought that she was selfish?" I asked in yet strongerlanguage.
"Grace selfish!" exclaimed, Cecille: "oh, no! I never saw her do aselfish thing."
"Do you think her as generous as Clara?"
"As generous as Clara," she again repeated, and then said doubtfully,"Clara is so generous."
"You do not think then that Grace takes as much pleasure in giving toanother as Clara does?"
"Oh, yes! I think she does. Grace never seems so happy as when shehappens to have what another person wants."
"In what then is she less generous than Clara?"
"Why"--Cecille stopped suddenly--thought a little, and then said, "I donot know what could have made me think so,--only that I never saw Gracegive all that she had in her purse as I have seen Clara do."
"Perhaps that is because Grace remembers what Clara seems sometimes toforget, that she has no right to give away that which belongs toanother."
"Clara does not give away what belongs to another."
"Does not Clara's father allow her as much money as Mrs. Wilmot allowsGrace?"
"Yes--just the same."
"Then how is it that Grace could pay you and Clara could not? If Clarahas given away what should have been paid to you, she has given awaywhat did not belong to her. In her generosity she has forgotten justice,while Grace seems to have remembered, 'to be just before she wasgenerous.'"
The clock striking twelve interrupted our conversation, by reminding methat it was time to return home.
Aunt Kitty's Tales Page 37