CHAPTER VIII.
“Jennie,” called a full, clear voice twice before there was any answer. At the second summons Jennie slowly opened the door, and saw Miss Lane waiting at the foot of the stairs. “Get your work-box, thimble, and scissors, and come down stairs. I want you and Lillie to make a knitting-bag before you begin the stockings.”
“Yes, I will,” answered Jennie, glad that the first trouble, the meeting with her teacher, was over.
Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed. Miss Lane was about to despatch a messenger for her, when the door opened, and a discontented, frowning face appeared. The work-box was dashed upon the sofa, and Jennie exclaimed angrily,
“I don’t want to sew—I have been hunting and hunting for my scissors—somebody’s always meddling with my things—and now, when I found those, I can’t find my thimble. I wish—” she cried, turning passionately upon her sisters, “I wish you’d stay out of my room. You have no business there—you know it.”
There was a sob in her voice. Lillie’s color rose violently, while Rosie looked grieved and frightened. The former opened her lips to retort, but at a sign from Miss Lane, restrained herself.
“Take your work-box and go up stairs, Jennie,” said Miss Lane, quietly.
The young girl started in a sort of amazement, and looked into her teacher’s face. She had not the slightest intention of obeying her, and felt in a whirl of anger at being ordered about so like a child; but the clear, steady eye met hers unwaveringly, not the faintest tinge of color dyed the smooth cheek. There was power there not to be resisted—and before that quiet will she bowed.
Taking her box in her hand, she obeyed, as a matter of course, and went to her room again, in loneliness. She lay down on the bed and sobbed. Oh! how everything darkened around her! How far off now lay the beautiful, new life of which she had been dreaming! That fair, clean white leaf which she had promised herself should have no stain, was soiled already; and the sun was shining on a day begun without prayer, without a thought of God, and the clouds of idleness, disobedience, and anger, were rising to dim it all.