Bessie Bradford's Prize

by Joanna H. Mathews

"So this is what you get for always telling the truth, and for not being afraid to tell when you've done a bad thing. Anybody is an awful old meaner to hide it when he's done it, and you ought to tell right out and not be sneaky. A boy who hides what he's done is a sneak, I don't care. The End."

There were some parts of this fanciful tale which made Lena wince, as she saw how much clearer an idea of right and wrong, truth and justice, had this little boy of seven than had her own brother of more than twice his age. If Percy could but think that it was "mean and sneaky" to endeavor to hide a fault, could but see how much nobler and more manly it was to make confession, and, so far as possible, reparation. True, the money had been repaid to Seabrooke; but through what a source had it come to him; and there were so many other things to confess, things which had led to this very trouble with Seabrooke. The rambling, half-incoherent nonsense written, or rather, dictated by the little brother of her young friends made her feel more than ever the shame and meanness of Percy's conduct, and she could not laugh at Frankie's contribution to the "Cheeryble Sisters," as her aunt did.

And Frankie practised that which he preached, as Lena very well knew. Mischievous and heedless, almost to recklessness, he was not only always ready to confess his wrong-doing when questioned, but when conscious of his fault, did not wait for his parents to "go poking about to find him out," but would go straightway and accuse himself. Like all the Bradford children, strictly truthful and upright, he scorned concealment or evasion, and accepted the consequences of his naughtiness without attempt at either. But well could Lena remember how in the nursery days from which she and Percy had but so recently escaped, he would hide, by every possible device, his own misdoings, even to the very verge of suffering others to be blamed for them. Hannah would even then strive to shield him from detection and punishment at his parents' hands, thus fostering his weakness and moral cowardice. With over-severity on the one hand, and over-indulgence on the other, what wonder was it that Percy's faults had grown with his growth and strengthened with his strength?

It cannot be said that Lena put all this into words, even to herself: but such thoughts were there, or those very much like them. She was given to reasoning and pondering over things in the recesses of her own mind, and she was uncommonly clear-sighted for a girl of her age. Probably the child was not the happier for that.

To Maggie and Bessie, in their joyous lives, full of the tenderness and confidence and sympathy which existed between them and their parents, such ideas would never have come, even while they wondered at and pitied the utter lack in Lena's existence of all that made the happiness of theirs.

And another trouble, perhaps now the greatest which weighed upon Lena's mind, was the knowledge that their faithful old nurse had sacrificed her long-cherished gold, with its particular purpose, to the rescue of Percy from his dilemma. For, after hearing Miss Trevor's story, Lena could not—did not doubt that this was so.

And Aunt May, having also heard the tale, would tell Uncle Horace; there was no doubt of that. Lena was not at all relieved by the fact that her aunt asked no questions, never once alluded to the subject. She suspected something wrong, and was only waiting for an opportunity to submit it to the colonel. Lena did not imagine, of course, that her aunt blamed her in any way in the matter; there was no reason that she should do so, and in one respect it would be almost a relief to have her aunt and uncle know all. But for Percy's sake she still shrank from that.

But Hannah, and Hannah's cherished money! Dear, faithful old Hannah!
Oh, the shame, the shame of it!

Mrs. Rush, with her suspicions already tending Percy-wise in connection with Lena's late low spirits, and noting how devoid of interest she seemed to be in the papers she was reading for her benefit, had those suspicions more than ever confirmed since she observed the effect Miss Trevor's revelation had had upon her; she felt assured now that Percy had fallen into some trouble from which his sister and his old nurse had endeavored to extricate him. And it must be indeed a serious trouble which made needful such secrecy, such mysterious, underhand doings.

Suddenly Mrs. Rush saw Lena's countenance change; a look of relief passed over it, and her head was lifted and her eye brightened again. For it had flashed upon the child that there was a way out of a part of the difficulty, at least. That second hundred dollars could be taken to return to Hannah that which she had sacrificed. Percy had written that he would bring it to her when she came home for the Easter holidays; she would somehow contrive to have it turned into gold and give it back to the old woman, telling her at the same time that she and Percy had discovered her generosity, and loved her all the more for her faithful tenderness.