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ELSIE DINSMORE

BY

MARTHA FINLEY




CHAPTER FIRST


   "I never saw an eye so bright,
     And yet so soft as hers;
   It sometimes swam in liquid light,
     And sometimes swam in tears;
   It seemed a beauty set apart
     For softness and for sighs."
                                 --MRS. WELBY.


The school-room at Roselands was a very pleasant apartment; the
ceiling, it is true, was somewhat lower than in the more modern portion
of the building, for the wing in which it was situated dated back to
the old-fashioned days prior to the Revolution, while the larger part
of the mansion had not stood more than twenty or thirty years; but the
effect was relieved by windows reaching from floor to ceiling, and
opening on a veranda which overlooked a lovely flower-garden, beyond
which were fields and woods and hills. The view from the veranda was
very beautiful, and the room itself looked most inviting, with its neat
matting, its windows draped with snow-white muslin, its comfortable
chairs, and pretty rosewood desks.

Within this pleasant apartment sat Miss Day with her pupils, six in
number. She was giving a lesson to Enna, the youngest, the spoiled
darling of the family, the pet and plaything of both father and mother.
It was always a trying task to both teacher and scholar, for Enna was
very wilful, and her teacher's patience by no means inexhaustible.

"There!" exclaimed Miss Day, shutting the book and giving it an
impatient toss on to the desk; "go, for I might as well try to teach
old Bruno. I presume he would learn about as fast."

And Enna walked away with a pout on her pretty face, muttering that she
would "tell mamma."

"Young ladies and gentlemen," said Miss Day, looking at her watch, "I
shall leave you to your studies for an hour; at the end of which time I
shall return to hear your recitations, when those who have attended
properly to their duties will be permitted to ride out with me to visit
the fair."

"Oh! that will be jolly!" exclaimed Arthur, a bright-eyed,
mischief-loving boy of ten.

"Hush!" said Miss Day sternly; "let me hear no more such exclamations;
and remember that you will not go unless your lessons are thoroughly
learned. Louise and Lora," addressing two young girls of the respective
ages of twelve and fourteen, "that French exercise must be perfect, and
your English lessons as well. Elsie," to a little girl of eight,
sitting alone at a desk near one of the windows, and bending over a
slate with an appearance of great industry, "every figure of that
example must be correct, your geography lesson recited perfectly, and a
page in your copybook written without a blot."

"Yes, ma'am," said the child meekly, raising a pair of large soft eyes
of the darkest hazel for an instant to her teacher's face, and then
dropping them again upon her slate.

"And see that none of you leave the room until I return," continued the
governess. "Walter, if you miss one word of that spelling, you will
have to stay at home and learn it over."

"Unless mamma interferes, as she will be pretty sure to do," muttered
Arthur, as the door closed on Miss Day, and her retreating footsteps
were heard passing down the hall.

For about ten minutes after her departure, all was quiet in the
school-room, each seemingly completely absorbed in study. But at the
end of that time Arthur sprang up, and flinging his book across the
room, exclaimed, "There! I know my lesson; and if I didn't, I shouldn't
study another bit for old Day, or Night either."

"Do be quiet, Arthur," said his sister Louise; "I can't study in such a
racket."

Arthur stole on tiptoe across the room, and coming up behind Elsie,
tickled the back of her neck with a feather.

She started, saying in a pleading tone, "Please, Arthur, don't."

"It pleases me to do," he said, repeating the experiment.

Elsie changed her position, saying in the same gentle, persuasive tone,
"O Arthur! _please_ let me alone, or I never shall be able to do this
example."

"What! all this time on one example! you ought to be ashamed. Why, I
could have done it half a dozen times over."

"I have been over and over it," replied the little girl in a tone of
despondency, "and still there are two figures that will not come right."

"How do you know they are not right, little puss?" shaking her curls as
he spoke.

"Oh! please, Arthur, don't pull my hair. I have the answer--that's the
way I know."

"Well, then, why don't you just set the figures down. I would."

"Oh! no, indeed; that would not be honest."

"Pooh! nonsense! nobody would be the wiser, nor the poorer."

"No, but it would be just like telling a lie. But I can never get it
right while you are bothering me so," said Elsie, laying her slate
aside in despair. Then taking out her geography, she began studying
most diligently. But Arthur continued his persecutions--tickling her,
pulling her hair, twitching the book out of her hand, and talking
almost incessantly, making remarks, and asking questions; till at last
Elsie said, as if just ready to cry, "Indeed, Arthur, if you don't let
me alone, I shall never be able to get my lessons."

"Go away then; take your book out on the veranda, and learn your
lessons there," said Louise. "I'll call you when Miss Day comes."

"Oh! no, Louise, I cannot do that, because it would be disobedience,"
replied Elsie, taking out her writing materials.

Arthur stood over her criticising every letter she made, and finally
jogged her elbow in such a way as to cause her to drop all the ink in
her pen upon the paper, making quite a large blot.

"Oh!" cried the little girl, bursting into tears, "now I shall lose my
ride, for Miss Day will not let me go; and I was so anxious to see all
those beautiful flowers."

Arthur, who was really not very vicious, felt some compunction when he
saw the mischief he had done. "Never mind, Elsie," said he. "I can fix
it yet. Just let me tear out this page, and you can begin again on the
next, and I'll not bother you. I'll make these two figures come right
too," he added, taking up her slate.

"Thank you, Arthur," said the little girl, smiling through her tears;
"you are very kind, but it would not be honest to do either, and I had
rather stay at home than be deceitful."

"Very well, miss," said he, tossing his head, and walking away, "since
you won't let me help you, it is all your own fault if you have to stay
at home."

"Elsie," exclaimed Louise, "I have no patience with you! such
ridiculous scruples as you are always raising. I shall not pity you one
bit, if you are obliged to stay at home."

Elsie made no reply, but, brushing away a tear, bent over her writing,
taking great pains with every letter, though saying sadly to herself
all the time, "It's of no use, for that great ugly blot will spoil it
all."

She finished her page, and, excepting the unfortunate blot, it all
looked very neat indeed, showing plainly that it had been written with
great care. She then took up her slate and patiently went over and over
every figure of the troublesome example, trying to discover where her
mistake had been. But much time had been lost through Arthur's teasing,
and her mind was so disturbed by the accident to her writing that she
tried in vain to fix it upon the business in hand; and before the two
troublesome figures had been made right, the hour was past and Miss Day
returned.

"Oh!" thought Elsie, "if she will only hear the others first, I may be
able to get this and the geography ready yet; and perhaps, if Arthur
will be generous enough to tell her about the blot, she may excuse me
for it."

But it was a vain hope. Miss Day had no sooner seated herself at her
desk, than she called, "Elsie, come here and say that lesson; and bring
your copybook and slate, that I may examine your work."

Elsie tremblingly obeyed.

The lesson, though a difficult one, was very tolerably recited; for
Elsie, knowing Arthur's propensity for teasing, had studied it in her
own room before school hours. But Miss Day handed back the book with a
frown, saying, "I told you the recitation must be perfect, and it was
not."

She was always more severe with Elsie than with any other of her
pupils. The reason the reader will probably be able to divine ere long.

"There are two incorrect figures in this example," said she, laying
down the slate, after glancing over its contents. Then taking up the
copy-book, she exclaimed, "Careless, disobedient child! did I not
caution you to be careful not to blot your book! There will be no ride
for you this morning. You have failed in everything. Go to your seat.
Make that example right, and do the next; learn your geography lesson
over, and write another page in your copy-book; and, mind, if there is
a blot on it, you will get no dinner."

Weeping and sobbing, Elsie took up her books and obeyed.

During this scene Arthur stood at his desk pretending to study, but
glancing every now and then at Elsie, with a conscience evidently ill
at ease. She cast an imploring glance at him, as she returned to her
seat; but he turned away his head, muttering, "It's all her own fault,
for she wouldn't let me help her."

As he looked up again, he caught his sister Lora's eyes fixed on him
with an expression of scorn and contempt. He  violently, and
dropped his eyes upon his book.

"Miss Day," said Lora, indignantly, "I see Arthur does not mean to
speak, and as I cannot bear to see such injustice, I must tell you that
it is all his fault that Elsie has failed in her lessons; for she tried
her very best, but he teased her incessantly, and also jogged her elbow
and made her spill the ink on her book; and to her credit she was too
honorable to tear out the leaf from her copy-book, or to let him make
her example right; both which he very generously proposed doing after
causing all the mischief."

"Is this so, Arthur?" asked Miss Day, angrily.

The boy hung his head, but made no reply.

"Very well, then," said Miss Day, "you too must stay at home."

"Surely," said Lora, in surprise, "you will not keep Elsie, since I
have shown you that she was not to blame."

"Miss Lora," replied her teacher, haughtily, "I wish you to understand
that I am not to be dictated to by my pupils."

Lora bit her lip, but said nothing, and Miss Day went on hearing the
lessons without further remark.

In the meantime the little Elsie sat at her desk, striving to conquer
the feelings of anger and indignation that were swelling in her breast;
for Elsie, though she possessed much of "the ornament of a meek and
quiet spirit," was not yet perfect, and often had a fierce contest with
her naturally quick temper. Yet it was seldom, very seldom that word or
tone or look betrayed the existence of such feelings; and it was a
common remark in the family that Elsie had no spirit.

The recitations were scarcely finished when the door opened and a lady
entered dressed for a ride.

"Not through yet, Miss Day?" she asked.

"Yes, madam, we are just done," replied the teacher, closing the French
grammar and handing it to Louise.

"Well, I hope your pupils have all done their duty this morning, and
are ready to accompany us to the fair," said Mrs. Dinsmore. "But what
is the matter with Elsie?"

"She has failed in all her exercises, and therefore has been told that
she must remain at home," replied Miss Day with heightened color and in
a tone of anger; "and as Miss Lora tells me that Master Arthur was
partly the cause, I have forbidden him also to accompany us."

"Excuse me, Miss Day, for correcting you," said Lora, a little
indignantly; "but I did not say _partly,_ for I am sure it was
_entirely_ his fault."

"Hush, hush, Lora," said her mother, a little impatiently; "how can you
be sure of any such thing; Miss Day, I must beg of you to excuse Arthur
this once, for I have quite set my heart on taking him along