Mary Ellen Chase

“ Now, Anne, I’ve just one criticism. You’re going to learn to dismount all right; but if you’d only look less scared when you ride toward the Dauphin! You know you ought to look soulful, as though you were seeing a distant vision, but you don’t. You look frightened to death.”
“Then I look just the way I feel, Virginia. I’d rather ride an elephant than that Napoleon. I am scared of him, and I may as well admit it. He’s the most terrorizing animal I’ve ever known!” ”

“ Long after Priscilla’s breathing showed that she had forgotten indignation and all else, Virginia lay awake, choking back a great, obstinate lump of homesickness, which would rise in her throat. She longed for her father. He would understand as no one else could. She longed for Don, who would call Miss Green “an old prune.” Most of all she longed for her own big country, where, her poor injured heart told her, people didn’t look for impoliteness. And just this morning she had been so happy! ”

“ We don’t have girls from Wyoming every day, do we, Mary? You like my room, Virginia?” For Virginia’s eyes were wandering about the room, charmed with everything.
“I just love it, Miss King,” she said, in her natural, unaffected way. “It makes me think of a sunny autumn afternoon at home. The walls are just the color of our brown foot-hills, and the yellow curtains against them are like the sunlight on the hills. ”

“ Virginia lost no time in tearing open the envelope and unfolding the paper within.
‘Dear Virginia,’ she read in a trembling voice to those who listened, ‘I know you’ll all think I’m sillier than ever, but I can’t stand being miserable any longer. You’ve all been good to me, especially you, and I’ll never, never, never forget it, so long as I live! You’re the best friend I ever had. (A sob from Dorothy.) But it is very hard to hate yourself every minute; and, besides, I can’t forget what Imogene said to me when she went away. ”

“ In another moment Virginia was up and away, leaving Mr. Hanly, who was watching her, somewhat reassured in the doorway.
This was something like riding, she told herself, as she cantered along the country road. The black horse, though nothing like her own Pedro, was still a good horse. He could even singlefoot, and did not have the asthma.
She rode miles into the country beyond St. Helen’s. The afternoon was perfect—one of those autumn afternoons when the summer lingers, loath to go; when the leaves drift slowly down, and the air is filled with an unseen chorus ”

“ Dorothy’s room was in a sad state of upheaval, the Navajo rug, carefully spread on the floor, being the only sign of an attempt at settlement. Dorothy herself was curled up on the couch, deep in a magazine. Her room-mate had not returned she said, so why arrange things? Their ideas might not harmonize.
The room opposite their own, occupied by Imogene and Vivian, was settled in a most unsettled manner. Virginia thought as she entered that never in her life had she seen so many things in one room. ”

“ Little Mary, tired out but satisfied, fell asleep, her head in Virginia’s lap. To Virginia’s joy, and to the unspeakable gratitude of Mrs. Michael Murphy, whom the world had used none too kindly, Miss King decided that St. Helen’s needed just such a person to do repairing and mending; and Mrs. Murphy, her face bright with thankfulness, was installed that very evening in her new and comfortable quarters.
An hour later, Virginia, the supper table atmosphere almost forgotten in her glad relief over Mrs. Murphy’s immediate future, ran up-stairs and down the hall to her own room. ”

“ To Virginia, this season of her first Commencement was one of conflicting emotions. She was torn between a joy in the perfect June days, and a sorrow that they must soon come to an end; between the happy anticipation of seeing her father, who, with her grandmother and Aunt Nan, was to be at St. Helen’s for the closing week, and the sad realization that St. Helen’s would never seem the same without the Seniors, and that The Hermitage would be a sadly different place without Mary and Anne. ”

“ Miss Wallace noticed the hesitation.
“Come, Virginia. We are waiting.” Virginia began to read, and as she read, she forgot Lucile in the hope that those listening might realize that the Pioneers of her own dear country were likewise Pilgrim Fathers. Her voice, sweet and clear, rang out earnestly:
“At this Thanksgiving season when we, as a nation, give honor to those brave men and women who founded the New England States, should we not also grant honor and homage to those other founders of our country—the children of the Pilgrim Fathers—the sturdy Pioneers of our Great West? ”

“ In the silence that followed, while the organ played softly, Virginia touched with gentle fingers the tiny hepaticas in her lap. Was she sending out rootlets toward the right soil, she wondered? In the years to come would people seek her, as she sought the hepaticas in the spring, because she had found that “better part”? “That is why we go to Miss King and Miss Wallace,” she thought to herself, “because they have found the best soil, and have grown sweeter every year.” ”

“ Commencement came with hurrying feet, showing little regard for Seniors, who daily visited the old haunts, grown so dear to them, and hourly hated worse the thought of leaving St. Helen’s. Every spot seemed dearer than ever before—the cottages, which had been their homes, the Retreat, filled with the memories of chapel and vespers, every path in the woods, every spot where certain flowers grew. It would be hard to leave them all; but far harder to say good-by to one another, and to the teachers and girls who were to return; for, as Anne said on every possible occasion, “There’s no use talking! ”

“ Helen’s knew and trusted Mary Williams.
Virginia admired Mary more than ever. It must be wonderful, she thought as she tied her hair-ribbon and searched for a clean handkerchief, to be trusted by every one in school. Could they say that of her when she became a Senior?
“What are you, Priscilla?” she asked as they went down-stairs.
“I’m a Junior,” said Priscilla, “and so are Dorothy and Imogene. Anne is a Senior like Mary. Vivian’s a Sophomore, and Lucile Du Bose, too, they say. As for Miss Van Rensaelar, no one knows. Maybe she’s a post-grad. She sounds very grand.” ”

“ I asked her what she thought was the noblest thing; and she said in the sweetest voice, ‘A real mother, Virginia.’”
“And she is just a born mother,” added Priscilla. “Mother said so at Thanksgiving. Oh, dear! Why did it have to happen?”
No one pretended to know. Lucile was inclined to attribute it to Fate; while Dorothy advanced the thought that it might be a trial sent to prove Miss Wallace’s strength.
“And it’s wonderful how strong she is,” she said. “She’s usually so jolly at table; and last night she was the very life of the party. One would never have known.” ”

“ Priscilla said with a little embarrassment, that since every one was telling the truth, she must admit that she dreamed of being an author, and writing books that should inspire the world; and Virginia, who sat by her, all at once squeezed her hand tightly, and said that she longed to write also. Imogene “hadn’t decided,” and Vivian made them all laugh by saying she wanted more than anything else to have a home for orphan babies and take care of them every one herself.
Miss Wallace and Miss Green listened, the one with sympathetic, the other with amused interest. ”

“ Helen’s feels about telling tales anyway. Besides, it’s not my plan. You know who suggested it just this afternoon.” And into Imogene’s eyes crept a crafty expression, which told Dorothy more than her words.
“Oh, Imogene!” she cried, really indignant. “You know that isn’t true! Virginia didn’t propose it at all! She was just telling a story! You don’t mean you’d do it yourself, and then lay the blame on Virginia!”
Imogene saw that she had made a mistake.
“Who’s talking about blaming anybody? I guess I’m willing to take the blame for my own actions. Don’t get so excited! ”

“ Virginia spied thrushes and tow-hees, brown thrashers and robins in great numbers; also many bluebirds, whose color was not so brilliant as that of their mountain bluebird at home. The English sparrows, however, were undisturbed by thoughts of moving, and chattered about the eaves of the Retreat, quite lazy and content.
At any other time Virginia would have watched the birds with eager interest, creeping through the thickets to observe them, for she was a real little student of their ways, and loved them dearly. ”

“ Though she mounted in the recesses of the forest, and could have all the assistance she needed, to ride before the audience, holding her spear aloft in one hand, and driving with the other was well-nigh impossible, especially when she longed to grasp the saddle-horn; and lastly, to dismount safely, without catching on some part of that fearful saddle and irretrievably loosening her armor, was an act she feared and dreaded day and night.
“Oh, why did I choose to be Joan!” she cried, as Virginia, at a private rehearsal, raised her from the ground after at least the twentieth attempt to dismount. ”

“ Miss Green’s room was next to Miss Wallace’s; and since Priscilla was constantly with her father and mother, Virginia, though always asked with Dorothy to join the party, seized the privilege afforded her of being with Miss Wallace. Miss Wallace was also glad, for she loved Virginia. Policy, when school was in session, forbade, with total disregard for a teacher’s preferences, a greater intimacy with one girl than with another; but in the vacation days following Thanksgiving, when Virginia was more or less alone, their friendship grew and ripened into a close understanding between them. ”

“ We take our name from the Vigilantes of the West—those brave men, who in the early days of our Western States, bound themselves together in the endeavor to stand for fair play, and to preserve law and order. Like them, we hereby determine and promise to stand at all times for fair play and true friendship; and to help one another in every way we can to live up to the principles of our order. ”

“ Study hour was in session when Virginia hurried through the hall toward her room; but two doors noiselessly opened as she passed, and four hands extended notes, which she took wonderingly. The door opposite her own did not open. In her room, Priscilla, instead of studying, was writing furiously in her “Thought Book,” which, apparently unread, had been sent two weeks before. As Virginia came in, she jumped up from the desk, and threw her arms around her.
“You poor, dear thing!” she cried. “We’re all furious! You didn’t do one thing but be polite. We’re more furious at Imogene for giggling! ”

“ Dorothy whispered, “she’s gone up to find that paper. Martha cleans this afternoon, you know, and Lucile wants to use that oration. I’ll bet I’m not asked for any thoughts to-night!”
“Oh, no, she won’t!” cried Virginia. “Dorothy, do you suppose she will?”
“You wait and see! Of course she will. Lucile’s queer. She doesn’t have any thoughts; and she can’t see when a thing is funny. Miss Wallace doesn’t have them read aloud, does she, Priscilla? Lucile especially asked that, and I told her she didn’t.” ”

“ Priscilla ran at once to ask for Miss Wallace’s chaperonage, but, when she returned, a worried expression had replaced the joyous one on her face.
“Won’t she go with you?”
“Yes, she’ll go; but, Virginia, I just remembered the German Measles. They don’t look so much like a blessing as they did a few minutes ago. What if I do get them? Oh, Virginia, what if I do? If I’m going to have them, I wish I’d get them right away, and then I’d be all over them in a week. Isn’t there some way they can be hurried up if they’re inside of you?” ”

“ Mary, Anne, and Vivian brought from the village the glad tidings that the “Forget-me-not” would be open all winter, and serve hot chocolate and cakes instead of sundaes; Priscilla and Lucile had won four sets from the Blackmore twins; and Virginia’s spirits were certainly improved. Only Imogene and Dorothy, who had been together all the morning, preserved, the one a haughty, the other an embarrassed, silence.
Virginia’s announcement that she was to ride brought forth great interest on the part of the girls, and solicitude on the part of Miss Green. ”

“ They had been quite as sad as she to say good-by. “The country won’t be the same without you, my lass,” Mr. David had said in his genial Scotch way; and Donald’s mother, whom Virginia had called “Mother Mary,” since the death of her own dear mother six years ago, had kissed her quite as though she were her own daughter. Even Malcolm had come in from the wheat field to shake her by the hand and wish her good luck, and little Kenneth’s feelings had been quite wounded because Virginia felt she must decline to carry one of his pet foxes away with her to boarding-school. ”

“ Poor Joan sat on the ground and tried to smile, while Miss Allan rubbed her aching ankle.
“I think it’s really providential,” she said, “because I’d have been sure to fall this afternoon. Virginia can do my last part splendidly. My costume will fit her all right, and I’m quite content with hearing the voices and talking with the priest. You’ll do it, won’t you, Virginia?”
“Why, of course, I will, if Miss Allan thinks best. My French isn’t like yours, Anne. Oh, I’m so sorry it happened!”
“Well, it’s fortunate we have you, Virginia,” said Miss Allan. ”

“ But stick or leg, I’m good for years yet. Lord, Miss Virginia, I’m a-goin’ to teach your boys and girls how to throw the rope!” And talking as he wheezed and creaked, Jim reached the porch and laboriously stumped up the steps.
Jim was an old man, fifty of whose seventy years had been spent on the ranges and ranches of the Great West. He had grown with the country, moving westward as the tide moved, from Iowa to Kansas and Nebraska, Nebraska to the Dakotas, and from the Dakotas to Montana and Wyoming. No phase of the life West had escaped Jim. ”

“ Oh, it is mean, Priscilla!”
“No, it isn’t mean, it’s just funny. You know things are different in school, Virginia, though I can never make mother see it. Now jokes aren’t mean! Lucile just bit, and she’ll learn in this way not to bite so easily. Also, that you get in trouble using other folks’ work. Besides, if she’s a sport, and takes it right, we’ll all like her better. It is mean to set traps deliberately to get other girls into trouble, the way Imogene did to you the other night; and it’s miserably mean to try to throw blame on some one else for what you’ve done yourself. ”

“ The road commenced to be more hilly above the meadow, and as the horses walked slowly along, Virginia noticed with interest the shrubs and trees which grew in tangled masses on either side. She knew the sumac, now in its autumn scarlet, and the birches; but there were many which she had never seen, and she missed the service-berry and the buck-brush, which bordered the Wyoming roads, the cottonwoods and her own dear quaking-asps, which always seemed so merry and friendly in the fall. ”

“ When evening came, she was somewhat out-of-sorts. “Maybe the hating everybody has begun,” thought her room-mate as she filled hot water-bottles. They had borrowed all in The Hermitage, except Miss Wallace’s and Miss Baxter’s (Miss Baxter was Miss Green’s more popular successor) —much to the unsatisfied wonder of the household. Priscilla turned uneasily all night in a nest of hot water-bottles and extra blankets. In the morning there were no signs of measles, except perhaps a somewhat peevish disposition.
“And that’s not measles, Virginia, I’ll have you to know!” ”

“ Away back in Virginia’s eyes gleamed a flash of light, but she answered quietly:
“Certainly, grandmother, and to the Hunters, too, because father is just as anxious that I should do well as you and Aunt Nan and Aunt Lou. Please don’t forget how anxious he is,” she finished, a little wistfully.
Aunt Nan gave her hand a friendly little squeeze. “Of course, he’s the most interested of us all,” she said. “We mustn’t be selfish, mother. They’ll send the carriage to meet you, Virginia, and Miss King will understand about everything. ”