Bessie Bradfords Prize | Page 5

followed--repentance and
remorse, intensified a thousandfold by after events on the very same
day.
But that guilty secret was still locked within her own heart, weighing
heavily upon her conscience, but still unconfessed, still unsuspected by
others. Ever since that miserable afternoon she had shrunk from
meeting her classmates, and although she had been obliged to do so at
school, she had avoided all other opportunities of seeing them, and on
one excuse and another had refused to attend the meetings of the club
which came together every Friday afternoon, the place of rendezvous
being at Mrs. Bradford's, Maggie being the president as she had been
the originator of the club.
It was true that Gracie had later discovered that the ruined paper was
one of her own, a composition on the very same subject as Lena's, and
which had, by the merest accident, and without her knowledge, been

exchanged for that of the young classmate whom she chose to consider
as her rival; and this had in some measure relieved the weight of sorrow
and remorse she had felt when Lena was severely burned and lay for
days hovering between life and death. But she could not shut her eyes
or blind her conscience to the fact that she had been guilty in intention,
if not in actual deed, and she could not shake off the haunting sense of
shame or the feeling that others must know of the contemptible action
of which she had been guilty.
Knowing nothing of this, Maggie and the other members of the club
believed that her avoidance of them and her low spirits were caused by
shame and distress for the bad temper and unkindness she had shown to
Lena on that memorable day; and now Maggie, feeling sorry for her
and also very loath to have any unpleasantness in the club, would fain
have persuaded her to join them once more and to put things on their
old footing.
Gracie was not doubtful of Maggie, nor of Bessie, nor yet of Belle
Powers and Fanny Leroy; in fact, she knew she would be received
kindly by the majority of the members, but about Lily and two or three
others she had her misgivings, and hence that doubtful,
half-deprecating glance at the former, who stood at Maggie's elbow.
Lily caught it, and, although she had intended to be very offish and
high and mighty with Gracie for the rest of her days, her heart smote
her, and flinging her former resolution to the winds, she followed
Maggie's example, and laying her hand persuasively on Gracie's muff,
said, with her usual directness:
"Oh, come on, Gracie! Don't let's have any more madness and being
offended among us. It's horrid; so let by-gones be by-gones, and come
to the club meetings again."
"If they only knew," thought Gracie, "they would not ask me, would
not say 'let by-gones be by-gones;'" but she said that she would come to
the meeting, and then they parted and went their separate ways.
When Maggie and Bessie reached home, they found Colonel Rush
there awaiting them, and heard that he had come to take them to his
own house. Lena, his niece, was coming down to dinner for the first
time since she had been so badly burned; that is, she was to be carried
down, for her poor little feet were still too tender to suffer her to put
them to the ground, or to take any steps upon them. But she had been

so long a prisoner upstairs that it was quite an event for her to be
allowed to join the family at dinner once more; and the Colonel had
seen fit to make it a little more of a celebration by coming for Maggie
and Bessie to make merry with them on the occasion. Indeed, he was
apt to think that such occasions were not complete without the
company of his two pets, and they had both been perfectly devoted to
Lena during the period of her confinement, so that he was more than
ready to make this a little jubilee for all concerned.
Mamma's permission being readily obtained--indeed the Colonel had
secured it before the two little maidens had appeared upon the
scene--the three friends set forth again, well pleased with one another
and with the prospect before them.
"Lena has had quite an eventful day," said the Colonel, as they were on
their way to his house. "First and greatest, I suppose, was a letter from
her brother Russell--only a few lines, it is true, but the first she has had
since he was taken ill, and it was full of loving praises for her presence
of mind and her bravery, and for the patience with which she has borne
her suffering; so it was