Interrupted

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by Pansy




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  [Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= anditalic text is surrounded by _underscores_.]

  Louis and Alice Ansted call on Claire. p. 206]

  INTERRUPTED

  BY PANSY

  AUTHOR OF "AN ENDLESS CHAIN," "MRS. SOLOMON SMITH LOOKING ON," "CHRISTIE'S CHRISTMAS," "A HEDGE FENCE," "ESTER RIED YET SPEAKING," "THE HALL IN THE GROVE," "CHAUTAUQUA GIRLS," "RUTH ERSKINE'S CROSSES," "THE MAN OF THE HOUSE," ETC., ETC.

  BOSTON LOTHROP PUBLISHING COMPANY

  COPYRIGHT, 1885, BY D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY.

  _All rights reserved._

  PANSY TRADE-MARK REGISTERED JUNE 4, 1895.

  CONTENTS.

  CHAPTER I. REACHING INTO TO-MORROW 7

  CHAPTER II. WHY? 22

  CHAPTER III. OUT IN THE WORLD 36

  CHAPTER IV. AN OPEN DOOR 51

  CHAPTER V. TRYING TO ENDURE 65

  CHAPTER VI. LIFTED UP 79

  CHAPTER VII. "OUR CHURCH." 93

  CHAPTER VIII. MAKING OPPORTUNITIES 108

  CHAPTER IX. OUTSIDE THE CIRCLE 123

  CHAPTER X. AN OPEN DOOR 138

  CHAPTER XI. A "FANATIC." 153

  CHAPTER XII. LOGIC AND LABOR 168

  CHAPTER XIII. INNOVATIONS 183

  CHAPTER XIV. BLIND 200

  CHAPTER XV. STARTING FOR HOME 218

  CHAPTER XVI. LOST FRIENDS 235

  CHAPTER XVII. SPREADING NETS 254

  CHAPTER XVIII. BUD IN SEARCH OF COMFORT 271

  CHAPTER XIX. COMFORTED 287

  CHAPTER XX. BUD AS A TEACHER 303

  CHAPTER XXI. ONE OF THE VICTIMS 318

  CHAPTER XXII. NEW LINES OF WORK 332

  CHAPTER XXIII. UNPALATABLE TRUTHS 347

  CHAPTER XXIV. RECOGNITION 362

  CHAPTER XXV. DANGERS SEEN AND UNSEEN 376

  CHAPTER XXVI. AN ESCAPED VICTIM 391

  CHAPTER XXVII. THE SUMMER'S STORY 408

  CHAPTER XXVIII. A FAMILY SECRET 423

  INTERRUPTED.

  CHAPTER I.

  REACHING INTO TO-MORROW.

  FROM the back parlor there came the sound of fresh young voicesbrimming with energy. Several voices at once, indeed, after thefashion of eager young ladies well acquainted with one another, andhaving important schemes to further. Occasionally there were bursts oflaughter, indicating that freedom of speech and good fellowship reignedamong the workers.

  The committee, or the society, or the association, whatever it was, wasbreaking up, for the door was ajar, one young lady standing near it,her hand out as if to open it wider, preparatory to departure, whileshe waited to say another of the many last things. Others were drawingwraps about them, or donning furs and overshoes, and talking as theyworked. Their voices, clear and brisk, sounded distinctly down the longhall.

  "And about the Committee on Award; you will attend to that, Claire,will you not?"

  "Oh, and what are we to do about Mrs. Stuart?"

  "Why, Claire promised to see her. She is just the one to do it. Mrs.Stuart will do anything for her."

  "And, Claire, you must be sure to see the Snyders before the judgestarts on his Southern trip! If we don't get his positive promise, wemay have trouble."

  "Claire Benedict, you promised to help me with my Turkish costume, youknow. I haven't the least idea how to get it up."

  Then a younger voice:

  "Miss Claire, you will drill me on my recitation, won't you? Mamma saysyou are just the one to show me how."

  "And, oh! Claire, don't forget to see that ponderous Doctor Wheelockand get his subscription. It frightens me to think of going to him."

  In the sitting-room opposite stood Claire's younger sister, DoraBenedict. She had just come in from the outer world, and with part ofher wraps still gathered about her, stood watching the falling snow,and listening to the voices in the back parlor. At this point she spoke:

  "Mamma, just hear the girls! They are heaping up the work on Claire,giving her the planning and the collecting and the drilling, and thegreater portion of the programme to attend to, and she calmly agrees todo it all."

  "Your sister has a great amount of executive ability, my dear, andis always to be depended on. Such people are sure to have plenty ofburdens to carry."

  Mrs. Benedict said this in a gently modulated, satisfied voice, andleaned back in her easy chair and smiled as she spoke. She delayed astitch in her crimson tidy, while she listened a moment to the sound ofClaire's voice, calmly and assuringly shouldering the burdens of work;promising here, offering there, until the listeners in the sitting-roomwere prepared to sympathize with the words spoken in the parlor in arelieved tone of voice:

  "I declare, Claire Benedict, you are a host in yourself! What we shoulddo without you is more than I can imagine."

  "I should think as much!" This from the girl in the brown-plumed hat,who listened in the next room. "You couldn't do without her! that isjust all there would be about it! Two thirds of your nice plans, forwhich you get so much credit, would fall through. Mamma, do you thinkClaire ought to attempt so much?"

  "Well, I don't know," responded the gentle-faced woman thus appealedto, pausing again in her fancy work to consider the question. "Clairehas remarkable talent, you know, in all these directions. She is a bornorganizer and leader, and the girls are willing to follow her lead. Idon't know but she works too hard. It is difficult to avoid that, withso many people depending on her I don't myself see how they wouldmanage without her. You know Doctor Ellis feels much the same. He wastelling your father, only last night, that there was not another younglady in the church on whom he could depend as he did on her. Yourfather was amused at his earnestness. He said he should almost feellike giving up his pastorate here, if he should lose her. Claire iscertainly a power in the church, and the society generally. I shouldfeel sorry for them if they were to lose her."

  The mother spoke this sentence quietly, with the unruffled look ofpeace and satisfaction on her face. No foreboding of loss came to her.She thought, it is true, of the barely possible time when her eldestdaughter might go out from this home into some other, and have othercares and responsibilities, but the day seemed very remote. Claire wasyoung, and was absorbed in her church and home work.

  Apparently, even the _suggestion_ of another home had not come to her.It might never come. She might live always in the dear home nest,sheltered, and sheltering, in her turn, others less favored. Or in theevent of a change, some time in the future, it might be, possibly, justfrom one street in the same city to another, and much of the old lifego on still; and in any event the mother could say "their loss," notmine; for the sense of possible separation had not come near enough toshadow the mother's heart as yet; she lived in the dreamland of beliefthat a married daughter would be as near to the mother and the homeas an unmarried one. Therefore her face was placid, and she sewed hercrimson threads and talked placidly of what might have been, but wasnot; the future looked secure and smiling.

  "You see," she continued to the young and but half-satisfied daughter,"it is an unusual combination of things that makes your sister soimportant to this society. There ar
e not many girls in it who havewealth and leisure, and the peculiar talents required for leadership.Run over the list in your mind, and you will notice that those who haveplenty of time would not know what to do with it unless Claire werehere to tell them, and those who have plenty of money would fritter itall away, without her to guide, and set a grand example for them."

  "I am not questioning her ability, mamma," the daughter said, with alittle laugh, "that is, her mental ability; but it seems to me theyought to remember that she has a body, as well as the others. Still,she will always work at something, I suppose; she is made in that mold.Mamma, what do you suppose Claire would do if she were poor?"

  "I haven't the least idea, daughter. I hope she would do the best shecould; but I think I feel grateful that there seems little probabilityof our discovering by experience."

  "Still, one can never tell what may happen."

  "Oh, no, that is true; I was speaking of probabilities."

  Still the mother's face was placid. She called them probabilities,but when she thought of her husband's wealth and position in themercantile world, they really seemed to her very much like certainties.

  And now the little coterie in the back parlor broke up in earnest, and,exclaiming over the lateness of the hour, made haste into the snowyworld outside.

  Claire followed the last one to the door; a young and pretty girl,afraid of her own decided capabilities, unless kissed and petted bythis stronger spirit into using them.

  "You will be sure to do well, Alice dear, and remember I depend on you."

  This was the last drop of dew for the frightened young flower, and itbrightened visibly under it, and murmured:

  "I will do my best; I don't want to disappoint you."

  Then Claire came into the sitting-room, and dropped with an air ofsatisfied weariness into one of the luxurious chairs, and folded herhands to rest.

  "Dora thinks you are carrying too much on your shoulders, dear." Thisfrom the fancy worker.

  "Oh, no, mamma, my shoulders are strong. Everything is in fine train.I think our girls are really getting interested in missions now, aswell as in having a good time, that is what I am after, you know, butsome of them don't suspect it. Why didn't you come to the committeemeeting, Dora?"

  "I have but just come in from Strausser's, on that commission, youknow, and I thought if I appeared, there would be so many questionsto answer, and so much to explain, that the girls would not get awayto-night."

  "Oh, did you see Mr. Strausser? Well, what did he say?" And Claire saterect, her weariness gone, and gave herself to work again.

  The door bell rang, and she was presently summoned to the hall.

  "One of your poor persons," was the servant's message.

  There seemed to be a long story to tell, and Claire listened, andquestioned, and commented, and rang the bell to give directions for acertain package from a certain closet to be brought, and sent Dora toher room for her pocket-book, and finally the "poor person" went away,her voice sounding cheered and grateful as she said inquiringly:

  "Then you will be sure to come over to-morrow?"

  Dora laughed, as Claire returned to the easy chair.

  "How many things you are going to do to-morrow, Claire? I heard youpromise the girls a dozen or so. And that reminds me that Doctor Elliswants to know if you will look in to-morrow, and go with Mrs. Ellis tocall on a new family, of whom he said he told you."

  "I know," said Claire, "I was thinking about them this morning. I musttry and go to-morrow. They are people who ought not to be neglected.Did he say at what hour? Oh, mamma, have you that broth ready foraunt Kate? I might go around there with it now: I shall not have timeto-morrow, and I promised her I would come myself before the weekclosed."

  Then the fast falling snow was discussed, and demurred over a littleby mother and younger sister, and laughingly accepted by Claire as apleasant accessory to a winter walk; and it ended, as things were aptto end in that family, in Claire having her own way, and sallying forthequipped for the storm, with her basket of comforts on her arm.

  She looked back to Dora to say that mamma must not worry if she weredetained, for she had promised to look in at Mr. Anstead's and makesome arrangements for to-morrow's committee meeting; and to add thatthe papers in the library were to be left as they were, ready forto-morrow.

  "It is the eventful day," she said, laughingly, "our work is toculminate then. We are to discover what the fruit of all this gettingready is; we are to have things just as they are to be, without a breakor a pause."

  "Perhaps," said Dora.

  "Why do you say 'perhaps,' you naughty croaker? Do you dare to thinkthat anything will be less than perfect after the weeks of labor wehave given it?"

  "How can I tell? Nothing is ever perfect. Did you never notice, Claire,that it is impossible to get through a single day just as one plans it?"

  "I have noticed it," Claire answered, smiling, "but I did not know thatyour young head had taken it in."

  "Ah, but I have. _I_ plan occasionally, myself, but I am like Paulin one thing, any way, 'how to perform I find not.' It is worse onSaturday than any other day. I almost never do as I intended."

  "I wouldn't quote Bible verses with a twisted meaning, if I were you,little girl. It is a dangerous habit; I know by experience. They soperfectly fit into life, that one is sorely tempted. But I am not oftentroubled in the way you mention; my plans generally come out all right.Possibly because I have studied them from several sides, and foreseenand provided for hindrances. There is a great deal in that. You see,to-morrow, if I don't get through with all the engagements laid out forit. I have studied them all, and there really _can't_ anything happento throw me very far off my programme."

  There was an air of complacency about the speaker, and a satisfiedsmile on her face as she tripped briskly away. She was a skilful andsuccessful general. Was there any harm in her realizing it?

  Dora went back to the gentle mother.

  "The house will be alive all day to-morrow, mamma. Claire has half adozen committee meetings here at different hours, and a great rehearsalof all their exercises for the literary entertainment. There will beno place for quiet, well-behaved people like you and me. What do yousuppose is the matter with me? I feel like a croaker. If Claire had notjust scolded me for quoting the Bible to suit my moods, I should havesaid to her, 'Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not whata day may bring forth.'"

  Mrs. Benedict looked up searchingly into the face of her youngdaughter, who was so unlike her sister, who took life doubtfully,and bristled with interrogation points, and dreamed while the otherworked, and leaned on Claire everywhere and always, even as she knewshe did herself.

  "Claire isn't boastful, dear, I think," she said gently. "It isright for her to rest in the brightness of the present and to trustto-morrow."

  "Oh, she has planned to-morrow, mamma; there is nothing to trust about."

  Then after a moment:

  "Mamma, she is good and splendid, just as she always is, and I amcross."

  Whereupon she sprang to meet her father, and before he had divestedhimself of his snowy great-coat, she had covered his bearded face withkisses and dropped some tears on his hands.

  It was after family worship that evening, when the father stood witha daughter on either side of him, with an arm around each, that herallied Dora on her tearful greeting.

  "Dora is mercurial," her mother said. "Her birthday comes in April, andthere is very apt to be a shower right in the midst of sunshine."

  "She has studied too hard to-day," the father said, kissing her fondly."After a good night's rest, the sunshine will get the better of theshowers."

  "They both need developing in exactly different ways," he said to themother when they were left to themselves.

  He looked after his two beautiful girls fondly as he spoke, but thelast words they had heard from him were:

  "Good-night, daughters! Get ready for a bright to-morrow. The storm isabout over."

  "The st
orm did not trouble me," said Claire. "Real work often gets onbetter in a storm; and I think we shall have a chance to try it. Ithink papa is mistaken; the sky says to me that we shall have a stormyday."

  When "to-morrow" came, the sun shone brilliantly in a cloudless sky;but every shutter in the Benedict mansion was closed, and crapestreamed from the doorknobs; and during all that memorable day neitherdaughter did one thing that had been planned for the day before.

 

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