The Two Elsies Page 12

  CHAPTER XII.

  LULU REBELS.

  Several weeks had passed since the events recorded in the last chapter,during which life had moved on in its accustomed way at Fairview and Ion.

  Evelyn was as happy in her new home as she could have been anywherewithout her father and mother--perhaps happier than she would have beenanywhere _with_ the latter--and enjoyed her studies under Mr. Dinsmore'stuition; for, being very steady, respectful, studious, and in every way awell-behaved child, and also an interested pupil, she found favor withhim, was never subjected to reproof or punishment, but smiled upon andconstantly commended, and in consequence her opinion of him differedwidely from that of Lulu, whose quick, wilful temper was continuallygetting her into trouble with him.

  She was the only one of his scholars who caused him any seriousannoyance, but he had grown very weary of contending with her, and oneday when she had failed in her recitation and answered impertinently hiswell-merited reproof, he said to her, "Lucilla, you may leave the roomand consider yourself banished from it for a week. At the end of thattime I shall probably be able to decide whether I will ever again listento a recitation from you."

  Lulu, with cheeks aflame and eyes flashing, hardly waited for theconclusion of the sentence ere she rose and rushed from the room,shutting the door behind her with a loud slam.

  Mr. Dinsmore stepped to it and called her back.

  "I desire you to come in here again and then leave us in a proper andladylike manner, closing the door quietly," he said.

  For a single instant Lulu hesitated, strongly tempted to refuseobedience; but even she stood in some awe of Mr. Dinsmore, and seeing hisstern, determined look, she retraced her steps, with head erect and eyesthat carefully avoided the faces of all present; went quietly out again,closed the door gently, then hurried through the hall, down the stairs,and into her own room; there she hastily donned hat and sacque, thenrapidly descended to the ground-floor, and the next instant might havebeen seen fairly flying down the avenue.

  Her passion had slightly cooled by the time she reached the gate, andgiving up her first intention of passing through into the road beyond,she turned into an alley bordered by evergreens which would screen herfrom view from the house, and there paced back and forth, mutteringangrily to herself between her shut teeth,

  "I hate him, so I do! the old tyrant! He's no business to give me suchlong, hard lessons and then scold because I don't recite perfectly."

  Here conscience reminded her that she could easily have mastered her taskif her time had not been wasted over a story-book.

  "It's a pity if I can't have the pleasure of reading a story once in awhile," she said in reply; "and I'm not going to give up doing it eitherfor him or anybody else. He reads stories himself; and if it's bad, it'sworse for grown folks than for children. Oh, how I do wish I was grown upand could do just as I please!"

  Then came to mind her father's assurance that even grown people could notalways follow their own inclinations; also his expressions of deepgratitude to Mr. Dinsmore and Grandma Elsie for giving his children ahome with them and taking the trouble to teach and train them up foruseful and happy lives. Lulu well knew that Mr. Dinsmore received nocompensation for his labors in behalf of her brother and sister andherself, and that few people would be at such pains for no other rewardthan the consciousness of doing good; and reflecting upon all this, sheat length began to feel really ashamed of her bad behavior.

  Yet pride prevented her from fully acknowledging it even to her ownheart. But recalling the doubt he had expressed as to whether he wouldever again hear a recitation from her, she began to feel very uneasy asto what might be the consequence to her of such a refusal on his part.

  Her education must go on; that she knew; but who would be her teacher ifMr. Dinsmore refused? In all probability she would be sent away to themuch-dreaded boarding-school. Indeed she felt quite certain of it in casethe question should be referred to her father; for had he not warned herthat if she were troublesome or disobedient to Mr. Dinsmore, such wouldbe her fate?

  A fervent wish arose that he might not be appealed to--might forever beleft in ignorance of this her latest act of insubordination. She would,it was true, have to make a report to him of the day's conduct, but shecould refrain from telling the whole story; could smooth the matter overso that he would not understand how extremely impertinent and passionateshe had been.

  Everything that had passed between Mr. Dinsmore and herself had been seenand heard by all her fellow-pupils, and the thought of that did not tendto lessen Lulu's mortification and dread of consequences.

  "Rosie will treat me more than ever like the Pharisee did the publican,"she said bitterly to herself, "Max and Gracie will be ashamed of theirsister, Walter will look at me as if he thought me the worst girl alive,and perhaps Evelyn won't be my friend any more. Mr. Dinsmore will act asif he didn't see me at all, I suppose, and Grandma Elsie and Aunt Elsieand Mamma Vi will be grave and sad. Oh dear, I 'most think I'm willing togo to boarding-school to get away from it all!"

  Evelyn had been greatly shocked and surprised at Lulu's outburst oftemper, for she had become strongly attached to her, and had not knownher to be capable of such an exhibition of passion.

  During the scene in the school-room, Rosie sent angry glances at Lulu,but Evelyn sat silent with eyes cast down, unwilling to witness herfriend's disgrace. Max hid his face with his book, Gracie wept, andlittle Walter looked on in silent astonishment.

  "She is the most ill-tempered piece I ever saw!" remarked Rosie, aloud,as the door closed upon Lulu for the second time.

  "Rosie," said her grandfather, sternly, "let me hear no more suchobservations from your lips. They are entirely uncalled for and extremelyuncharitable."

  Rosie reddened and did not venture to speak again, or even to so much asraise her eyes from her book for some time.

  The out-door air was quite keen and cold; Lulu was beginning to feelchilled, and debating in her own mind whether to return at once to thehouse spite of the danger of meeting some one who knew of her disgrace,and was therefore likely to look at her askance, when a light, quick stepapproached her from behind and two arms were suddenly thrown around herneck.

  "Oh, Lu, dear Lu," said Evelyn's soft voice, "I am so, so sorry!"

  "Eva! I did not think you would come to find me; do you really care forme still?" asked Lulu, in subdued tones, and half averting her face.

  "Of course I do. Did you suppose I was not a true friend that would standby you in trouble and disgrace, as well as when all goes prosperouslywith you?"

  "But it was my own fault for not learning my lesson better, in the firstplace, and then for answering Grandpa Dinsmore as I did when he reprovedme," said Lulu, hanging her head. "I know papa would say so if he werehere, and punish me severely too."

  "Still I'm sorry for you," Eva repeated. "I'm not, by any means, alwaysgood myself; I might have neglected my lessons under the same temptation,and if my temper were naturally as hot as yours I don't know that Ishould have been any more meek and respectful than you were under sosharp a rebuke."

  "It's very good in you to say it; you're not a bit of a Pharisee; but Ithink Rosie is very much like the one the Bible tells about; the one whothought himself so much better than the poor publican."

  "Isn't it just possible you may be a little hard on Rosie?" suggestedEva, with some hesitation, fearing to rouse the ungovernable temperagain.

  But Lulu did not show any anger. "I don't think I am," she replied, quitecalmly. "What did she say after I left the room?"

  Eva was very averse to tale-bearing, so merely answered the query withanother. "Why do you suppose she said anything?"

  "Because I know her of old; she dislikes and despises me, and is alwaysready to express her sentiments whenever the slightest occasion offers."

  "That reminds me," said Evelyn, "that just before dismissing us GrandpaDinsmore requested us to refrain from mentioning what had passed, unlessit should become quite necessary to do so."


  "You may be sure Rosie will find it necessary," Lulu said; "she will tellher mamma all about it--Mamma Vi, too--and it will presently be known allover the house; even by the Keiths. I wish they weren't here,"

  "Don't you like them? I do."

  "Yes; Aunt Marcia and Aunt Annis--as we children all call them--are kindand pleasant as can be; but I'd rather they wouldn't hear about this;though I don't care so very much either," she added, half defiantly."What difference does it make what people think of you?"

  "Some difference, surely," said Evelyn, gently; "for the Bible says, 'Agood name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favorrather than silver and gold.' Papa used to tell me that to deserve a goodname, and to have it, was one of the greatest blessings of life. I mustgo now," she added, pulling out a pretty little watch, one of the lastgifts of that loved father; "Aunt Elsie will be expecting me."

  "I wish I could go with you," said Lulu, sighing.

  "Oh, that would be nice!" exclaimed Evelyn. "Can't you?"

  Lulu shook her head. "Not without leave, and I don't want to ask it now.Oh, Eva, I do wish I hadn't to obey these people who are no relation tome!"

  "But they are very kind; and Aunt Violet is your father's wife, and lovesyou for his sake, I am sure."

  "But she's too young to be a real mother to me, and the rest are norelation at all. I begged papa not to say I must obey them, but he wouldsay it."

  "Then, loving him so dearly, as I am sure you do, I should think youwould be quite willing to obey them, because it is his will that youshould."

  "I don't see that that follows," grumbled Lulu; "and--now you will thinkme very bad, I know--I have sometimes even refused to obey papa himself."

  "Oh, how sorry you will be for it if ever he is taken away from you!" Evasaid, with emotion. "But did he let you have your own way?"

  "No, indeed; he is as strict in exacting obedience from his children asGrandpa Dinsmore himself. I'm dreadfully afraid Grandpa Dinsmore orsomebody will write to him about to-day; I do hope they won't, for hesaid if I should be disobedient and troublesome he would take me awayfrom here and put me in a boarding-school."

  "And you wouldn't like that?"

  "No, indeed! for how could I bear to be separated from Gracie and Max?"

  "I hope you won't have to go; I should be sorry enough on my own accountas well as yours," Evelyn said, with an affectionate kiss. "I must reallygo now; so good-by, dear, till to-morrow."

  Evelyn had hardly gone when Max joined his sister. "Lulu, why can't youbehave?" he exclaimed in a tone of impatience and chagrin. "You makeGracie and me both ashamed of your ingratitude to Grandpa Dinsmore."

  "I don't choose to be lectured by you, Max," returned Lulu, with a tossof her head.

  "No; but what do you suppose papa would say to this morning's behavior?"

  "Suppose you write and tell him all about it, and see what he says," shereturned scornfully.

  "You know I would not do such a thing," said Max; "but I should think youwould feel bound to do it."

  "I intend to some day," she answered, almost humbly; "but I don't think Ineed just now; 'tisn't likely he'd get the story anyhow for weeks ormonths."

  "Well, you'll do your own way, of course, but if it was my case I'drather confess, and have it off my mind."

  So saying, Max turned and walked toward the house, Lulu slowingfollowing.

  Though determined not to show it, she quite dreaded meeting any onebelonging to the family; but she was already too thoroughly chilled tothink of staying out another moment. Besides, the more she reflected uponthe matter, the more plainly she saw that her misconduct could not behidden from the family; they would notice that she did not go into theschoolroom as usual; they would see by Mr. Dinsmore's manner toward herthat she was in disgrace with him, and would know it was not withoutcause; therefore to remain longer out in the cold was only delaying for avery little while the ordeal which she must face sooner or later. Stillshe deemed it cause for rejoicing that she succeeded in gaining her ownroom without meeting any one.