Straight forward; or, walking in the light

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"It was for that very reason that I gave her a hint," said Janet. "I know how angry it would make Mrs. Pomeroy to hear that any such talk was going on in the school. But it is nonsense to say that Delia is not sick. I saw her for a moment this morning, and really don't think I should have known her."

Delia did, indeed, continue very unwell. Mrs. Pomeroy had hoped that her illness would have passed away with the excitement which caused it, but such was not the case, and as the days went on, it became evident that her health had received a serious shock. It was at last decided that she would be more likely to recover in the quietness of home, and under the care of her mother, to whom she now clung almost as much as she had hitherto disliked her; and as soon as she was able to travel, she was removed.

Even Miss Thomas was moved, when she saw Delia for the first and last time, and she bade her an affectionate farewell. None of the girls, except Emily and Janet, saw her at all, as she was still very weak, and unable to bear the least excitement, but she exerted herself to look out of the carriage and wave her handkerchief, as she passed the gate, where most of her companions were assembled to see the last of her.

"Oh, how happy I might have been here," she sighed, as she sank back again, "but it was all my own fault."

"Let us hope that you have many happy days still in store," said Mrs. Mason. "Your lesson, though a hard one, will be worth all it has cost you, if it has led you to the foot of that Cross wherein alone is safety and salvation."

Emily had not forgotten her resolution, and as soon as Delia was gone, she sat down resolutely to write to her father. It was a hard task, and was not accomplished without many tears, but she knew what was her duty, and she resolved to perform it faithfully. She concealed nothing, but related the whole story of her faults, from the very beginning, without attempting the least excuse or palliation of her conduct. She concluded, by humbly asking permission to remain at the school till her father's return, that she might have an opportunity of redeeming her character, and regaining the confidence of Mrs. Pomeroy, of whose kindness she could hardly say enough. This letter was submitted to Mrs. Pomeroy, who approved it, and added one of her own, which, however, she did not show to Emily.

When Mr. Arlington received these two letters, his first impulse was to remove Emily from the school at once, and keep her in future entirely under his own eye. But he was not a hasty man, and though his temper was naturally severe, he was lacking neither in a sense of justice, nor in a due regard for his daughter. He could not help observing that Emily's letter showed every sign of true contrition, without the least attempt at self-justification, and he was particularly pleased with the sensible and straight-forward tone of Mrs. Pomeroy's note.

Mrs. Pomeroy had written that she should not make any attempt to excuse Emily, further than to remind him that she was still very young, and that the perfect retirement in which she had lived previously to entering school, had, perhaps, not altogether fitted her for resisting temptation. There could be no doubt of the sincerity of her repentance, as her letter, written entirely of her own free will, and by her own suggestions, abundantly showed. She had no desire to lose Emily from the school, but stood ready to dispose of her as her father should appoint.

Mr. Arlington reflected that it would be exceedingly inconvenient for him to return home, or to have Emily come out to him, and that she would be more likely to get into fresh trouble among strangers, than with Mrs. Pomeroy, who was well acquainted with her faults, and for her own sake, would watch her carefully hereafter. Finally, he decided to let her remain where she was, at least for another year, and wrote to Mrs. Pomeroy to that effect, at the same time enclosing money to pay all her indebtedness. His letter to Emily was extremely kind—more so than she had anticipated, or indeed than he had at first intended, but as he went on writing, his heart melted toward the motherless child, so far separated from him, and though he did not conceal his displeasure at her faults, he assured her of his entire forgiveness and continued affection, and his desire to act solely for her good, concluding with a fervent blessing upon his only and darling child.

Emily watched and waited for this letter till her heart was sick with fear and hope deferred, but when it came, she hardly dared to open it till Mrs. Pomeroy assured her that it contained no ill news. Many were the tears of joy and sorrow which she shed over its pages, and most fervent were her prayers that she might have grace given her from on high to enable her to show herself worthy of so much affection. It gave her a different feeling toward her father, from any she had ever entertained before, and she thought she should never again fear to open her heart to him. In fact, from this time might be dated the beginning of a thoroughly good understanding between Mr. Arlington and his daughter which was never again interrupted.