CHAPTER XVIII.
THE VICTORY.
The next day the scholars were all very much astonished to find Rachelwas really ill, so much so that the doctor had been sent for in thenight; but none were aware of Marion's midnight adventure, for MissChristine had kept her promise to say nothing about it.
Recitations were given up until Miss Stiefbach should return, and thescholars were all requested to keep as quiet as possible. Every one wentabout with noiseless steps and hushed voices; some learning that Rachelhad been delirious, and had a fever, were seriously frightened lest itshould prove to be contagious, and it was as much as the older girlscould do to keep the little ones in order.
About ten o'clock the doctor came, and the scholars all collected in theschool-room and library, waiting to hear his verdict. Marion andFlorence went to their own room, leaving the door ajar, that they mighthear the doctor when he went down, and learn from his own lips hisopinion of the case.
He came at last, and Florence beckoned him into the room; she tried toask the question uppermost in her mind, but could not. The doctor knewwhat she wanted, and said:--
"She is not so bad as I feared; the fever is not so high, and she is notat all delirious."
"Then you don't think it's scarlet fever?" anxiously asked Marion.
"No, nor typhoid; I feared one or the other, but now I am confident itis nothing contagious. She is pretty sick, but not dangerously so; buthow are you, Miss Marion? Walking over broken bridges at twelve o'clockat night isn't a very good thing for red cheeks, is it?"
"What did he mean?" asked Florence, as he left the room.
"Some of his nonsense," replied Marion, from whose heart a great weighthad been lifted.
"Marion, you don't put me off in that way," said Florence, laying herhands on Marion's shoulders, and looking straight into her eyes.Suddenly an idea seemed to flash into her head: "Did you go for thedoctor?"
Marion nodded assent.
"Tell me about it."
"There is nothing to tell. I woke up in the night, and saw MissChristine, with a light in her hand, going downstairs. She told meRachel seemed very ill, and I went in and stayed with her while MissChristine was gone. Then she wanted to go for the doctor, for she wouldnot call Biddy; but I preferred going to being left with Rachel; so Iwent; that's all."
"But what about the broken bridge?" asked Florence.
"The bridge was half down, and I crossed on the beams."
"Marion, how could you? How did you dare?" said Florence, throwing herarms round Marion, as if to shield her from present danger; "if yourfeet had slipped you would certainly have fallen in, and there would nothave been a soul there to save you."
"But my feet did not slip," said Marion. "I was frightened; I don'tpretend to say I wasn't; and once when I got to the middle of the bridgeI came near falling; but I shut my eyes, and the thought of Rachel gaveme strength and courage. O Florence! if you had heard her raving, andtalking about her father as I did, you would not wonder I went;" andMarion bowed her head on her friend's shoulder, and gave vent to thetears which she had been struggling to keep back.
Florence held her close in her arms, saying nothing, but bending her ownhead until it rested against Marion's cheek, and lightly passing herhand over her hair until the violence of her emotion had passed away,and she looked up, with a faint smile, saying, "Don't think me a baby,Flo, but I haven't had a good cry with you for ever so long, and Ibelieve I needed it."
"Think you a baby, darling! Indeed I don't; I think you're the noblestgirl I ever knew."
"Yes, very noble, I should think!" exclaimed Marion, bitterly; "the wayI have treated Rachel has been nobleness itself!"
"But, my dear Marion, you have been acting against your better natureall the time. I knew you would come out all right."
For a moment Marion was silent, then looking up suddenly, she said,"Flo, I've been awfully wicked; I might as well have it all out now, anddone with it. When I heard Rachel was coming here I was provoked,because I didn't like the idea of having a new scholar, that was all;but when Miss Christine came in, and told us she was an orphan, itflashed into my head, like a presentiment, that your heart would warmtowards her; that you would make her your friend; and from that moment Idetermined to hate her. Don't look so shocked, dear, or I can't go on,and I want to say it all now. It wasn't a very easy thing, you may besure, after I saw her; but I would not listen to my conscience, and onlysteeled myself against her all the more, when I saw she had everyquality that would make her lovable, and many that were particularlyattractive to me. It was hard, you can't tell how hard, to see her dayby day taking the place with you that had always been mine. I knew itwas my own fault, because, if I had treated her as I ought, as I reallywanted to, we might all three have been warm friends; but I wanted youall to myself. I was jealous, and I might as well say so! However, thenight before Thanksgiving I determined to overcome my wicked feelings,and yield to my better nature. You know how I treated her that night,and I should have done the same ever since if I hadn't been acontemptible coward! I heard Georgie Graham tell Mattie Denton that Iwas _toadying_ Rachel, because she was an heiress; and I was afraid if Ibegan to treat her kindly the whole school would think the same thing.There! it is all out now; do you think I am a perfect wretch?"
At first Florence made no answer; then she said very gently, "'He thatconquereth himself is greater than he that taketh a city.'"
"I know it, Flo," answered Marion, with tears in her eyes; "I've thoughtof that so many times. But this is such a _little_ victory, and therereally ought not to have been anything to conquer."
"But there was, and you conquered it; if it were possible I should say Ilove you more than ever."
"Then Rachel has never taken my place entirely away?"
"No, darling, never! I love Rachel very much, very much indeed; butstill it is not exactly as I love you. I can't explain the difference,but I know it is there."
"I am satisfied," said Marion, kissing her friend softly. "Do you thinkRachel will ever learn to love me?"
"I know she will," replied Florence; "only act your own self; _follow_your good impulses instead of driving them away from you, and you willmake her love you whether she wants to or not."
* * * * *
For many days Rachel was very ill, and Miss Stiefbach and Miss Christinewere very anxious about her; still the doctor assured them there was nocause for alarm; her illness would be likely to prove a tedious one, butafter she was fairly recovered she would be much stronger than she hadbeen for a long time. It seemed very sad to think of the poor girl, soill, without a relative near her, for Miss Stiefbach knew there was noone for whom she could send, who would seem any nearer to Rachel, if asnear, as herself and Miss Christine. They procured an excellent nurse toassist in taking care of her, but nevertheless devoted themselves to heras much as it was possible to do, without neglecting their other duties.It was a pity Miss Stiefbach's scholars could not have entered thatsick-room, and seen their teacher as she appeared there; they would havelearned to love her then as Rachel did. No one would have recognized, inthe gentle-voiced, tender-hearted woman who bent over the orphan girlwith almost a mother's watchful care, the cold, dignified superintendentof the school.
After a while the fever subsided, but Rachel was still very weak, andthe doctor's prediction, that her convalescence would be very slow, soonproved itself true. She was very patient, yielding herself entirely tothose who so kindly watched over her. As soon as the fever was past,Florence had begged permission to sit with her, promising not to talk,as perfect rest and silence were most especially enjoined by the doctor.One day when the nurse had gone to lie down, and Miss Stiefbach and MissChristine both had something which needed their immediate attention,Marion offered to sit with her. She had not been in the room since thefirst night of Rachel's illness, and was not prepared for the changewhich had taken place in her: then a bright color burned in her cheeks;now her face was so thin and pale as to be
pitiable to look at. She wassleeping quietly; so Marion seated herself at the foot of the bed, notgoing any nearer for fear of disturbing her. She sat there some time,her thoughts busy with the past, when she was very much startled athearing Rachel say, in a weak voice:--
"Miss Christine, is that you?"
"No," answered Marion, rising, and going quickly to the bedside; "it'sMarion; can I do anything for you?"
"You, Marion!" said Rachel, holding out her hand. "I'm so glad!"
"Why?" asked Marion, kneeling by the bed, and taking Rachel's hand inboth of hers.
"Because I wanted to see you so much. Miss Christine told me who wentfor the doctor for me that night. I want to thank you."
"Don't Rachel! don't!" said Marion, her voice trembling despite herefforts to keep it steady. "Forgive me for all the unkind things I havedone; that is what I want."
"Forgive you, Marion! As if after that night there could be anything toforgive! I'll do better than that; I'll love you."
Marion could not speak, but she bent forward and pressed a kiss uponRachel's lips. That kiss was the seal upon a bond of friendship whichwas never broken by either.
And so a few words, a silent action, cleared away all the unkindness anddoubt of the past. Why is it, that so often, in the lives of all of us,such words are left unspoken, such actions go undone, the want of whichclouds not only our own happiness, but that of others?
Soon after this, Rachel was able to be moved on to a lounge, and everyspare hour that Marion and Florence could get from their studies wasdevoted to her. Marion would seat herself on the floor by the couch, andFlorence lean over the back as they talked of everything that was goingon downstairs, or made plans for their summer vacation. Sometimes theirconversation drifted on to quieter and graver subjects; then, as thetwilight gathered round them, they would draw nearer together, and handin hand sit in silence until Marion, fearing lest too much thinkingwould have a bad effect upon Rachel, with some jesting remarks, wouldjump up and light the gas.
Lying there, in the daily companionship of her two friends, Rachelregained her health and strength, and passed happier hours than she hadknown since her father's death.
Marion Berkley: A Story for Girls Page 18