Chapter I.
"I'm getting to quite like papa's present," said Susie Kingman, as she thoughtfully turned over a leaf of her Silent Comforter, "though I did want a ring awfully, and expected one as much as could be; but then this is much better, for it teaches me something. I've learned ever so many verses already, for it's the first thing my eyes open upon in the morning, and every time I come into the room I unconsciously read over the text for the day. Let me see—yes, to-day is the 20th." And having put back the leaf numbered nineteen, she read, "'Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love; in honor preferring one another.' 'In honor preferring one another,'" she repeated, musingly—"'in honor preferring one another.' I don't exactly see what that means. I believe I'll look in the Commentary before I go to breakfast, for if it's to be my verse for the day, I ought to understand it at the beginning."
The breakfast bell rang as Susie descended the stairs, so she hastened into her father's study, and taking from the book-case the volume she wanted, turned over the leaves until Romans, xii. 10, was reached.
"Yes, here is an explanation of the very words, 'In honor preferring one another.'" And she read, half aloud: "'The meaning appears to be this: consider all your brethren as more worthy than yourself, and let neither grief nor envy affect your mind at seeing another honored and yourself neglected. This is a hard lesson, and very few persons learn it thoroughly.'"
Susie paused with her finger on the words, saying: "I hope I shall be one of the few that learn it. I just wish I had a chance to show that I felt glad to have some one honored; but"—less confidently—"I don't know as I would care to be neglected. No, that would be a great deal harder." Then exclaiming, as she read on, "Why, this writer says the very same thing: 'If we wish to see our brethren honored, still it is with the secret condition in our own minds that we be honored more than they.'" Susie slowly closed the book, saying, "It's perfectly clear to me now"; then as baby's voice heralding the approach of the others was heard on the stairs, she hastily replaced the book and joined them.
An hour later she might have been seen on her way to school, taking a last look at one of her lessons as she walked along, and so occupied with her book as not to notice a group on the school steps waving handkerchiefs and beckoning her to hasten. At last, as she still read on, the eager girls, too impatient to wait until she reached them, with one accord darted down the street to meet her.
Josie Thorp playfully snatched away her book, exclaiming, "No more studying for you until you've heard the news!"
"How can you speak so disrespectfully to her Majesty?" laughed another; at which the rest, following the last speaker's example, made low courtesies to the bewildered Susie, who a moment before had been deep in the grammar rules.
"What do you mean, girls?" she wonderingly stammered, looking at Sadie Folger, who was kissing her hand in mock solemnity, and then at the others, still courtesying and saying, "Your Majesty." "Seems to me you're in fine spirits for Friday. I believe you've all got excused from composition class. Tell me. What is it? Has Mr. Gorham given us a holiday?"
"Better than that!" they exclaimed, in one voice.
"Don't keep me in suspense," pleaded Susie.
"It's too good to keep," said Sadie; "but still, girls, we must tell it by degrees." Then, to Susie, "Well, we're going to have a May party!"
"A May party! Splendid! Who—"
"And," broke in one of the others, wondering if Susie's face could look any brighter, "you are to be our Queen."
"Your Queen! Are you in earnest!" she cried, her eyes dancing with delight. "Whose party is it, and how do you know I'm to be Queen?"
"Because we're all going to vote for you," they answered, ignoring the first part of the question. So Susie repeated,
"But whose party is it? who is getting it up?"
"All the teachers. We left Mr. Gorham talking to Miss Page and the rest. They had a meeting at half past eight, and we five happened to be here early; so after they had decided the matter, they told us one or two things, and before recess Mr. Gorham will tell the whole school."
"But," said Susie, a trifle doubtfully, "then it's not certain I'm to be Queen?"
"Just as good as certain," said Stella Morris; "for the choice is between Florence Tracy and yourself. Mr. Gorham says you stand exactly the same—three marks against each—and that the way to decide it will be by vote this afternoon."
"I AM SURE YOU'LL HAVE EVERY VOTE."
"I am sure you'll have every vote," said Josie, confidently, "for we scarcely know Florence Tracy. She's so quiet, and doesn't seem to care for anything but study. Not that I dislike her at all, for she's always pleasant enough; but still—she isn't like you," and she took Susie's arm in undisguised admiration.
Susie was an acknowledged favorite, and it is needless to say she enjoyed this school-girl homage. Others had joined the group since they commenced talking, and each in turn had said, "You are sure of my vote, Sue."
"Thank you all," she answered, looking around gratefully. "I'm half in a dream. It seems too good to be true."
"I've just been having another talk with Miss Page," called Sadie, bounding down the walk. "She knows more about it than any of the others, I guess, for she saw a May-day celebration at some place on the Hudson last summer. Every one in the school is to take part. The primary class are to dance round a May-pole; and then there are to be garland-bearers and maids of honor, so we'll all be something; but of course Susie will have the highest honor."
Susie's happy look of a moment before was gone. That word honor had set her to thinking.
"What is the matter?" asked Sadie, mistaking the cause of her changed expression. "Don't you want us to be in it?"
"Want you to be in it! Of course I do," cried Susie. "You must think me a monster of selfishness. I only wish you could all be queens."
"We are satisfied to be your subjects," said Sadie, putting her arm around Susie, as they all started by twos and threes for the school, as the bell was ringing.
"I wish I'd never seen that verse," thought Susie, not heeding Sadie's chatter, as they went up the walk. "It's just going to spoil the whole thing."
"Here comes Florence Tracy," remarked Sadie, as a carriage stopped at the foot of the walk, and a young girl alighted. "Do you know, Susie, I don't believe she has a good time at all, if she does drive to school, and live in the handsomest house in town. I fancy her uncle isn't very kind to her, for she never seems very happy. Just look: don't you think she has a sad face?"
"I don't know," answered Susie, anxious to change the subject. "Isn't the parsing hard for to-day? Miss Page gives such long lessons."
But Sadie was far too interested in Squire Tracy's spirited horses, with their gilded harness, to turn her thoughts to discussing the length or difficulty of any lesson.
"Wouldn't I like to jump in!" she exclaimed. "It's just the morning for a drive." Then, in a lower tone: "Strange that Florence never asks any of the girls. There's room for four, yet every afternoon she goes for hours all alone."
"Hush!" cautioned Susie; "she's right behind us."
Florence joined them with a good-morning, and the three went up the steps together, Susie and Florence stopping a moment on the porch to talk over a troublesome sentence in the parsing.
"I know she didn't hear you," said Susie, in answer to Sadie's anxious question as she passed her seat, "for she is as pleasant as can be."
"Perhaps she would invite us," said Sadie, striving to make amends for her hasty speech, "if the Squire would let her. Poor girl! I really pity her."
Susie took her seat, and glanced across to Florence's. "She does look sad," she was forced to acknowledge; "but then deep mourning makes almost every one look so. Sadie is always getting up things to make one uncomfortable;" and she tried to busy herself in arranging her desk, and so forget the sad face opposite. "I'm sure she has everything money can buy." Here Conscience asked, "But are you not really far richer, with a loving father and mother, and a bright happy home?"
"Yes," thought Susie. "I wouldn't exchange places with her for all her pretty things, though I did think yesterday I'd give anything for that watch she wore. But then think of baby! How cunning she was this morning!—worth more than all the watches in the world!" and Susie almost felt the little arms about her neck.