Bessie Bradford's Prize

by Joanna H. Mathews

Lena seemed to be considering for a moment; then she said, evidently with a great effort,—

"Do you think she would come if I wrote and asked her? I—I would do it if you thought she would be friends again. And, perhaps," she added, with a little pathetic wistfulness which nearly made the tears come to the eyes of the sympathetic Maggie and Bessie, "perhaps she would, now, after such a thing happened to me. Do you know," sinking her voice to a whisper, and speaking with an unreserve which she never showed towards any one save these little friends, and seldom to them, "do you know that when they thought I was going to die—oh, I know that every one thought I was going to die—I used to feel so sorry for Gracie, because we had that quarrel that very afternoon; and I knew how I should have felt if I had been in her place, and I used to wish that I could make up with her; and now I would really like to if she will. Shall I write?"

Bessie, whose eyes were now brimming over, stooped and kissed her cheek; and Maggie followed her example, as she answered, with a break in her own voice,

"I don't see how she could help it, Lena; you dear Lena."

Maggie and Bessie were not a little astonished, not only at this burst of confidence from the shy, reserved Lena, but also at the feeling she expressed and her readiness to go more than half way in making advances for the healing of a breach in which she certainly had not been to blame.

But in the border-land through which Lena's little feet had lately trod, many and serious thoughts had come to her; thoughts of which those about her were all unconscious, as she lay seemingly inert and passive from exhaustion, except when pain forced complaint from her; and chief among these had been the recollection of the unpleasant relation which for some time had existed between herself and Gracie Howard, and which had culminated in the attack of jealousy and ill-temper which the latter had shown towards her on the very afternoon of the day in which Lena had been so badly, almost fatally, injured in the fire. And Lena herself, as has been said, had been altogether blameless in the affair, had no cause whatever for self-reproach; nevertheless, she had wished that she could have made friends with Gracie before she died. But she had spoken to no one of this until now, when she thus opened her heart, at least in a measure, to Maggie and Bessie.

Knowing all that they did—and still neither they nor Lena knew one-half of Gracie's misconduct—what wonder was it that they were touched, and filled with admiration for this little friend who, a stranger only a few months since, had come to fill so large a place in their affection and interest.

But Maggie, feeling confident, as she said, that Gracie was both ashamed and repentant, was also overjoyed at this opening towards a reconciliation; for her peace-loving soul could not abide dissension in any shape, and this breach between two members of the once harmonious club of the "Cheeryble Sisters" had been a sore trial to her.

Nor was Bessie much less pleased; and thinking that there was no time like the present, and that it would be well that Lena should act before she had opportunity to change her mind,—this showed that she did not know Lena well, for having once made up her mind that a thing was right, Lena was not more apt to change than she would have been herself,—she offered to bring writing materials, that the note might be written at once; and running into the library, where Colonel Rush was smoking his cigar, she begged for and received them.

But even with those before her and her resolve firmly taken, Lena found not a little embarrassment and difficulty in wording her note; for, owing to the state of affairs between her and Gracie, it was not the easiest thing in the world for her to do.