MILDRED'S BARGAIN.
A Story for Girls.
BY MRS. JOHN LILLIE.
Chapter VII.
How long she was unconscious, Milly never knew. She awoke to find herself in a beautiful white bed, in a room she had never seen. All signs of the storm seemed shut out; there was a bright fire on the hearth; the room seemed full of pleasant shadows and flickering beams of light. Milly was only half conscious that some one spoke to her, and gave her something pleasant to drink. Then she drifted off again, with a pleasant confusion of fancies in her mind. When she next awoke, it seemed again to be evening, but she was conscious of a certain change in her surroundings. A little table was drawn near her; half-used medicine bottles were upon it; Deborah was sitting over by the fire, and Miss Jenner was standing in the window.
"Debby," she said, surprised to find her voice so weak; and then she lifted up her hand, and saw it was very thin.
"My blessed lamb!" cried the old woman, hastening to her side, followed quickly by Alice. "So you're better!"
Mildred found she had to keep still a long time before she could say any more. She nearly fell asleep again.
"Debby," she said presently, "is it long since I fainted? What time is it?"
"Oh, my lovey," said the old nurse, "you've lain in that blessed bed two weeks. You've been very ill, but, thank the Lord, you're better."
This was all Mildred knew for days. She had had a fever; and finding out the condition of things at the cottage, Miss Jenner had taken Mrs. Lee's affairs into her own hands. She had kept Milly, as a matter of course, had sent a good servant to care for Mrs. Lee, filled the store closet with every delicacy, and allowed Debby to watch and care for her "child," as she always called Mildred. Sometimes, as she lay still in her comfortable bed, Milly tried to recall the dreadful scene at Mr. Hardman's; and one evening, when she was sitting up for the first time before the fire, and after she had finished a dainty little supper; she ventured to ask Miss Jenner a few questions.
MILDRED CONFESSES ALL TO MISS JENNER.
"Miss Jenner," she said, softly, "do you know all about it?"
"Yes," said Miss Jenner, smiling.
"And are they going to take me to court?"
"No," answered the elder lady, emphatically.
"But why not?" Milly persisted. "They said I stole that money."
"And I said you didn't," retorted Miss Jenner. "You let it all out in your fever, my dear. I think I understand it all."
"And you know—" faltered Mildred.
Miss Jenner smiled.
"Just see if I don't know," she said. "One evening a precious old humbug calling herself Widow Robbins came here to find you, and try and get out of you what you owed her—you did owe it, Milly—and my boy Roger was standing behind one of the trees, and heard the conversation; so he knew you were very badly off for twenty-two dollars, and as soon as he could scrape it together, what does he do but send it to you in a private note, saying you can pay it back to him when you like."
"Yes," said Mildred, eagerly, "I found that note one afternoon on my return home; but in it he bound me over not to speak of where I got the money until he came back. I felt dreadfully about it; but as soon as mother got well I intended telling her the whole story, and devising some way of paying Roger right back; and I will yet, Miss Jenner."
There was a moment's pause before Mildred said, "But how about the store—the robbery?"
"My dear," said Miss Jenner, "I am of the opinion that that was all arranged between Tom Hardman and Mrs. Robbins. I've seen her, and she admits she told him the whole story. He was angry because you seemed to snub him; and you made him feel his vulgarity, and so he devised this trick out of revenge. If there was any robbery, he was the thief!"
"And have you seen him?" inquired Milly, tears of gratitude and thankfulness pouring down her cheeks.
"Yes," said Miss Jenner, "and he and his father say the thing 'may blow over'; but that won't do for me. The first day you're well enough, you must drive down there in my carriage, and have them tell you they withdraw the accusation, and apologize for having made it. Now you must not talk any more." And Miss Jenner kissed her young friend, and moved away, taking up a book in a distant part of the room.
Mildred never forgot the two weeks that followed. With Miss Jenner she had long talks, in which she realized not only the folly of her extravagance, but the actual sin of her running into debt. A great many things which she had never thought of as serious now appeared to her in the light of principles, without which, as Miss Jenner told her, she could not live a perfect or even an upright life. When the day came on which she was declared well enough to drive with Miss Jenner to Mr. Hardman's, Mildred felt too humbled to rejoice in being received with any honor.
The girls looked at her, as she followed Miss Jenner into Mr. Hardman's office, nudging each other, and casting half-envious glances toward their former companion. Mary Hardman was nowhere to be seen, but Mr. Tom was with his father, and received Miss Jenner and Mildred with a stiff sort of pompousness. Miss Jenner had very little to say, and it was only later that Milly fully recalled the scene—Mr. Hardman's apologies, and Mr. Tom's surly assent. When they came back to the store, Milly paused to say a few words here and there, and as she walked away, it was some relief to hear a voice saying,
"Well, I'm glad it's all right; I never could believe it of Milly Lee."
When I knew Mildred Lee she was a woman of nearly thirty, and at the head of her own house; but the lesson of her girlhood had done her a lasting service. No one ever had it to say of her that she bought or used any article for which she could not at the moment pay, and her advice to young people was invaluable. When I knew her, her home was in the Brick House. Mrs. Lee did not long survive the serious illness of that winter, and Miss Jenner cared tenderly for the orphans her old friend's widow left.
Mildred speaks now with tears of gratitude of all the past, even of its miseries; and the gray silk dress, worn but once, and still brown with stains, is treasured as a memorial of the bargain by which Mildred purchased her high sense of honor.