“FATAL OR FATED ARE MOMENTS”
“Nobody has ever spoken to me as you have, Miss Preston,” Toinette began presently, “and I can’t tell you how I feel. Maybe heaven will be better, but I don’t believe I shall ever feel any happier than I feel this minute. It seems as though I’d been living in a sort of prison, all shut up in the dark, and that now I am out in the sunshine and as free as the birds. But I must tell you something more: I can’t rest content unless I do. The letter I posted to-day wasn’t to papa, I sent it to Howard Elting, in Branton, and it isn’t the first I’ve written him, either. I didn’t lie about the other one, Miss Preston; I was ready to mail it, but lost it; I don’t know how. Somebody must have found it and posted it, for he got it and answered it, and I was so puzzled over it that I wrote again. That was the letter you saw me post. Now, that is the truth, and I know that you believe me.”
Toinette had spoken very rapidly, scarcely pausing for breath, and when she finished gave a relieved little sigh and looked Miss Preston squarely in the eyes. Truly, her self-respect was regained.
Will some of my readers say: “What a tempest in a teapot?” To many this may seem a very trivial affair, but how small a thing can influence our lives! A breath, the passing of a summer shower, may help or hinder plans which alter our entire lives. And Miss Preston was wise enough to understand it. Here was a beautiful soul given for a time into her keeping. Now, at the period of its keenest receptive powers, a delicate and sensitive thing needing very gentle handling.
Stroking the head again resting upon her shoulder, as though it had found a safe and happy haven after having been tossed about upon a troubled sea, she said, quietly:
“I posted the letter, dear; I found it in the hall where it had been dropped; it never occurred to me that there was any cause for concealment; the girls all correspond with their friends; it is an understood thing. I recognized your writing, and, as I had friends at Branton, I wrote to ask if they knew the person written to. They replied that they did, and told me who he was. Knowing how few friends you have, I wrote to this boy asking him to come to our dance to-morrow night, because I thought the little surprise might give you pleasure, and you would be glad to welcome an old friend. Does it please you, my little girl?”
“Oh, Miss Preston!” was all Toinette said, but those three words meant a great deal.
The dressing-bell now rang, and Toinette sprang up with rather a dismayed look. As though she interpreted it, Miss Preston said:
“You are in no condition to meet the other girls to-night, dear. They cannot understand your feelings, and, without meaning to be unkind or curious, would ask questions which it would embarrass you to answer. You are nervous and unstrung, so lie down on my couch and I will see that your dinner is brought up. I shall say to the other girls that you are not feeling well, and that it would be better not to disturb you.” Then, going into her bedroom, Miss Preston quickly made her own toilet. She had just finished it when the chimes called all to dinner, and, stooping over Toinette, she kissed her softly and slipped from the room.
Some very serious thoughts passed through Toinette’s head during the ensuing fifteen minutes, and some resolutions were formed which were held to as long as she lived.
A tap at the door, and a maid entered with a dainty dinner. Placing a little stand close to the couch, she put the tray upon it, and then asked: “Can I do anything more for you, Miss Toinette?”
“No, thank you, Helma. This is very tempting.”
When Miss Preston came to her room an hour later she found the tray quite empty, and Toinette fast asleep. Arranging the couch pillows more comfortably, and throwing a warm puff over the sleeping girl, she whispered, softly: “Poor little maid, your battle with Apollyon was short and sharp, but, thank God, you’ve conquered, even at the expense of an exhausted mind and weary body.”
It was nearly midnight when Toinette opened her eyes to see Miss Preston warmly wrapped in her dressing-gown, and seated before the fire reading. The lamp was carefully screened from Toinette, who could not at first realize what had happened, or why she was there, but Miss Preston’s voice recalled her to herself.
“Do you feel rested, dear?” she asked. “Don’t try to go to your room; just undress and cuddle down in my bed with me to-night; I’ve brought in your night-dress.”
Toinette did not answer, but, walking over to Miss Preston, just rested her cheek against hers for a moment. Twenty minutes later she was fast asleep in her good friend’s bed.
The following day all was bustle and excitement at Sunny Bank, for great preparations were being made for the dance in the evening, and understanding how much pleasure it gave the girls to feel that they were of some assistance, she let them fly about like so many grigs, helping or hindering, as it happened.
They brought down all the pretty trifles from their rooms, piled up sofa pillows till the couches resembled a Turk’s palace; arranged the flowers, and rearranged them, till poor Miss Preston began to fear that there would be nothing left of them. However, it was an exceedingly attractive house which was thrown open to her guests at eight o’clock that evening, and the girls had had no small share in making it so.
A very complete understanding seemed to exist between Toinette and Miss Preston now, for, although no words were spoken, none were needed; just an exchange of glances told that two hearts were very happy that night, for love and confidence had come to dwell within them.