The Strange Likeness

by Harriet Pyne Grove

When Shirley saw Sidney on her return, she was shocked at Sidney’s white, worn face. “What is the matter with Sidney Thorne?” she asked Hope.

“I don’t know. Mrs. Thorne is worried about her, Mother says. She seemed to get sick all at once, but the doctor says that there is nothing the matter with her. She does not sleep very well and is nervous. The doctor gave her something, but Sidney says that she does not want any medicine. I think that Sidney has changed, too. It is odd.”

Shirley felt drawn toward the pale, quiet girl who came to classes, recited well, but without any enthusiasm. No one but Olive now would be a rival of Shirley’s for highest grades. These easily would be Shirley’s though her only motive for her hard study was to please her father by as high marks as possible, rivalry not concerning her at all.

But Sidney Thorne had during the vacation received a shock from which she had not been able to recover. Her pillow at home had received many bitter tears whose traces were carefully removed when necessary. But at night she usually cried herself into a sleep of exhaustion which left her merely pale in the mornings and brought much concern to Mr. and Mrs. Thorne. It would have been better if she had confided her grief to these dear people who loved her; but she could not bring herself to do it in the short time that she was at home. Uncomforted, therefore, she returned to school, struggling to readjust her thoughts, and stricken in heart.

The girls asked her what was the matter and the Double Three said that Sid didn’t “eat enough to keep a bird alive.” The most delicious fudge did not tempt her. Miss Gibson, “Gibby,” the hated, found Sidney one afternoon, strolling alone in the farther part of the grove under the pretence of looking for wild flowers. This was one of the times of rebellion, when it was all Sidney could do to keep back her tears. But Miss Gibson was purposely blind to the evidences of trouble and succeeded in interesting Sidney enough to forget herself. They sat down on one of the benches which faced the lake while Miss Gibson, talking away, told Sidney a little of her early struggles for an education. “But grit carries us through anything,” cheerily Miss Gibson closed her brief reference, “and I have such a wonderful opportunity here that I am very happy about it.” With that she left Sidney to her own reflections, waving to another of the teachers who was passing along not far away.

Sidney turned a little to watch Miss Gibson as she went away. She felt a new sympathy. Why, Gibby probably needed this position, and she was a good teacher and knew what she was about. How awful if the girls drove her away! Well, weren’t things mixed up in this old world? She would do what she could to keep Gibby now! Strange that it takes a touch of misfortune to teach us what others go through. Sidney had never known anything but having a home and protection. Helping the poor was one thing; but to Sidney the unfortunate were a world apart.

Grit. That was it. Thanks to Gibby for suggesting it. She had not quite gone to pieces anyway. Sidney had not realized how much of her life had been built upon what she knew now was not hers. Foundations were slipping from under her. Little thoughts of pride brought a realization that they had no root in fact. These were bitter days. But Sidney kept up her lessons automatically, glad of their thought-compelling frequency.

One Saturday the Double Three and some others had gone on a picnic. Sidney made the excuse of not feeling equal to the jaunt and remained in her room, glad to be alone. Shirley, as it happened, was alone, too, Madge had gone with the rest; but Shirley had work to do for Monday. She, too, had begun the day with a headache, but that had disappeared by noon and a box of delicious fruit had arrived from her aunt. It was not the fruit season, but Aunt Anne had found various things, among them some strawberries which had kept beautifully on the way.

Shirley hastened to prepare them, but they were too ripe to keep, for they had come from the South. She thought of the teachers, then of Sidney. Perhaps they would tempt Sidney’s flagging appetite. While she opened the package of confectioner’s sugar which her aunt had sent, she considered. Should she run the risk of disturbing Sidney? Well, why not? At the worst Sidney could only be inhospitable, and that would not hurt Shirley in any vital way.

With a tempting dish of the red berries sprinkled with the white sugar, Shirley swallowed her hesitation and rapidly walked through the halls to Sidney’s door. Lightly she rapped, thinking of the last time she had entered.