Helen Grant's Schooldays

by Amanda M. Douglas

Two soft arms were around her neck and a tear-wet cheek was pressed against hers.

"I've been a horrid, miserable, selfish little wretch! I do wonder if you can ever love me any more? But I want you too, even if you must love her some. I'm sorry——"

Helen kissed her a dozen times. "You little darling, I love you a hundred times better than before, if such a thing were possible. And I'm glad not to have any break. Run to bed, little midget, or we shall have to confess to talking out of time."

Then they said good-night again, and so the first difference was made up, but Daisy's jealous heart was not quite comforted.

There was a difference in the demeanor of most of the girls toward Miss Craven, though few would have admitted the money had anything to do with it. Miss Bigelow simply repeated Mrs. Davis's remark, that the girl would be very rich. No one could say that she was loud or presuming, or that her retiring manner was an evidence of pride. She went her way as quietly as before. She acknowledged all the little politenesses in a shy sort of way, but she was hard to get on with. She would only talk in monosyllables, except to Helen Grant.

"She has the key to unlock her tongue," Miss Mays said. "Helen is the sort of girl who will always be looking for fresh fields and pastures new. I like her immensely, but I couldn't help feeling as if I was only one of the many to her."

Such little speeches with the utmost apparent good nature fell heavily on Daisy Bell's heart.

There were many things to attend to beside school-girl differences, which were always happening among pupils. Easter was late, and then every day counted to those who expected promotion as well as the graduates.

Still there were some splendid rambles over on the other side of the river, some rowing parties, delightful lessons in out-of-door botany, and, oh, the plans for summer! There would be eight graduates among the boarders, seven from the day scholars. Miss Reid was going abroad for a year at painting, Miss Downs to study music at Leipsic, Miss Bigelow to enter an art school in New York, three to go to college, one to be married. Most of the Senior B would step into the A division, and every class would be pushed up.

Helen could have gone in the higher division at Easter. She had studied not only with a will, but an eager interest in so many things that she wondered how girls could dawdle along. Still, if they had no aim, if it was merely to get through these intervening years, looking forward to pleasure, society, and marriage, perhaps it might be sufficient. Her future was rather doubtful, even to herself. There were suggestions about the more weighty studies from Mrs. Van Dorn, as if Helen would hardly need them. But she did it because she liked them. She wanted to go to the foundation, to know on just what her structure stood, there was nothing negative about her. One day Miss Grace said: