Meg's Friend Part 21

Meg looked at the bright hair falling in soft abundance over the tiny shoulders, at the dark lashes that shaded the eyes, surrounded by pearly shadows, at the sculptured lips, the upper lip lying softly curled over the lower. She thought she had never seen anything so dainty and delicate as this child. She seemed to be like a feather blown out of heaven across her path.

"What is your name?" asked Meg.

"Elsie," said the child; "and what is yours?"

"My name is Meg."

"Did your mamma give you those books?" asked the child.

"I have no mamma," Meg replied curtly.

"I have no mamma either; she is dead," said Elsie.

Meg was moved by one of those sudden emotions which come with a rush.

She lifted her box with violence and carried it some paces off.

"How strong you are!" said the child. "Can you lift me?"

Meg felt inclined to be impatient. Then, meeting the glance of eyes the appeal of which was irresistible, she took the child in her arms and tossed her up.

That night, through the silence of the dormitory, Meg heard subdued sobbing. All the other girls were asleep. Elsie's bed had been placed on the other side of the room. Meg listened for a moment. Her heart was wrung by that low sound of weeping. She thought of her own anguish of loneliness, and of that haunting kiss which had brought such solace to her in her night of sorrow. After awhile she stole out of bed, and bending over the child, she kissed her forehead.

CHAPTER XV.

MISS PINKETT'S DIAMOND.

Elsie had taken a fancy to the stern, silent girl. She put out all her little arts to please Meg. Indifferent and inclined to be fitful to the girls who petted her and offered to carry her in their arms, she followed Meg about with pathetic persistence. Meg felt the delight of a devoted nature, thankful for opportunities given to it of sacrificing itself, and mingled grat.i.tude with the feeling she returned. She devoted herself to Elsie. She played with her, she taught her lessons, she spent time and ingenuity in making learning easy to her; and Elsie accepted this devotion. There was pity for Elsie mingled in Meg's solicitude. She was so strong, and the child looked so frail. She was so fearless, and the child was as easily frightened as a little bird. A severe word made Elsie tremble; and it was pitiful to see the little hands, with their network of veins, trembling at any harshness.

The girls were astonished to see a return of the terrible Meg one day when Laura was teasing Elsie, mimicking her nervous ways, her frightened starts and turns of the head. Meg suddenly leaped forward and pushed Laura with such force that this damsel found herself sitting on the ground at some yards' distance.

"How dare you be so cruel to a little child!" Meg said, standing between Elsie and her tormentor.

"I shall have you punished, you gypsy!" Miss Laura replied.

"Have me punished if you like," said Meg; "but if you dare hurt this child I will give it to you again."

A peculiarity of the child which perplexed Meg, besides an almost abnormal timidity, was the singular fascination exercised over her by bright objects. Like a little grayling that rises to the light, every s.h.i.+ning object attracted Elsie. It seemed almost uncanny to Meg, whose aesthetic sense was yet in its elementary stage, and who was unconsciously stirred by the moral suggestiveness of beauty, rather than by its physical appeal. Flowers, birds, Elsie herself, came to her as vague yet tangible revelations of a greater calm, a higher goodness and sweetness than earth holds. Elsie's delight in brilliancy was purely sensuous, and its influence over her nervous little frame puzzled Meg.

A Salviati gla.s.s that stood in Miss Reeves' sanctum fascinated the child. She seized every opportunity to catch a sight of the wonderful vase; the s.h.i.+fting opal tints seemed to throw her into an excited dream.

She would go and peep at it through the open door. Meg missed her one day from the playground, and found her perched on a chair in the room no one was allowed to enter without the mistress' permission, touching the vase, cooing and kissing the cold and glittering gla.s.s.

"Come down, Elsie! You must not come in here, you know, without Miss Reeves' permission," she said, alarmed, gently taking the child up in her arms. Then as Elsie struggled she went on: "Everything in this room is a present from an old pupil or a friend. Everything is very dear to Miss Reeves in it. She would be very angry if an accident happened to the vase. You would be punished for disobedience."

Elsie at this prospect let Meg carry her away, but she began to cry:

"I want it--I want it. I want to take it to bed with me! I want to have it all to myself!"

Meg soothed her. She endeavored to divert her attention by telling her the story of a mine of diamonds, more wonderful than that of the field of diamonds in "Sindbad the Sailor." For Elsie's sake Meg had developed the gift of telling stories. Her inventive powers were as the wand of a magician over the child. Her tales were distinguished by a touch of the grotesque and grewsome, a spice of humor and adventure. Meg's voice, which was of a peculiar quality, helped the effect. It was low and feeling at times, and again it had a spirited emphasis kept under gentle restraint. A child was the heroine of these stories, inspired by incidents enlarged upon and drawn from her childish recollections.

The stories that attracted Elsie most were those of splendor and of perfume. She would listen enthralled to the adventures in the bowels of the earth of a little girl, who met there the giant who took care of the fire, the sparks of which formed the diamonds, rubies, and topaz.

One day Elsie crept like a lizard to Meg's side. Miss Pinkett, who was a parlor-boarder now, had certain privileges, and was going to a party.

She had called Elsie in to see her dressed, and she had shown the child a diamond star her father had sent from India on her last birthday.

"She put it here"--Elsie's little hand touched her forehead. "It looked all alive, twinkling--twinkling! It was more beautiful than the gla.s.s vase. It shot out now a lovely red ray, then a yellow light or a bit of s.h.i.+ny blue. Miss Pinkett said her mother had more beautiful diamonds,"

Elsie concluded, with a sigh of exhausted happiness.

"It is only a bit of coal--black coal that has been buried a long time in the earth," Meg replied with practical coldness.

"I don't believe it. It s.h.i.+nes--s.h.i.+nes--s.h.i.+nes!" said the child. "Do you think Miss Pinkett would let me touch it, put it on, and play with it?"

"No," said Meg bluntly. "I would not ask her. You might lose it, and she would never forgive you."

But the diamond star had taken possession of Elsie's mind, and the fear of punishment did not lift the spell it exercised.

"Do you see that little red-morocco box?--it is in there. I saw her put it in there," she whispered to Meg next morning, dragging her by the skirt into the room Miss Pinkett still shared with Miss Lister alone.

"Do leave that diamond alone," said Meg brusquely. "Don't think of it so much, Elsie. It will get you into trouble and you will get punished. Did you ever see a drop of water through a microscope? That is ever so much more wonderful. Dr. Flite showed us this at the chemistry cla.s.s this morning."

"I don't care for drops of water," said Elsie pettishly.

"There are monsters in it that fight each other and eat each other up.

I'll tell you a story about a drop of water," said Meg suggestively, still trying to divert Elsie's attention.

One morning Meg was running down the corridor that led out of the dormitories.

"Meg, Meg!" called a little voice in a whisper. Meg looked round; it was Elsie standing at Miss Pinkett's door. She was holding something in the palm of her small, shaking hand. Meg, approaching, saw it was the diamond star.

"Elsie, put it back at once," she said peremptorily.

"The box was open. I saw it s.h.i.+ning and I took it out. I could not help it. Is it not lovely?"

The tiny fingers caressed the stone, and the baby voice gurgled and laughed to it.

"You will get into trouble, and I shall not be able to save you from being punished," said Meg. "Put it back."

As she spoke Elsie gave a sudden start, dropped the diamond, and took to flight.

Meg picked up the gem and went inside the room to place it in its box.

She encountered Miss Pinkett and Miss Lister coming in by another door.

"What are you doing in my room?" asked Miss Pinkett coldly.

Meg, without answering, put down the diamond.