Straight forward; or, walking in the light

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

Mrs. Pomeroy paid Kitty the ten dollars which she was at first very unwilling to receive, but she consented to do so upon Mrs. Pomeroy's representing to her that she would thereby relieve Emily from a painful sense of obligation. She had been greatly shocked on being informed of the transaction, but her anger was quite swallowed up in her sympathy for Emily's distress. Again and again she kissed her and assured her that it was no matter—that she had done quite as well without it, and that she was even glad she had lost it, as that it gave her an opportunity of seeing how much the girls loved her. Nor did any allusion to the matter ever pass her lips. Her health was improving greatly, and Mrs. Pomeroy began again to hope with trembling that she might be spared to grow up a comfort to her own declining years.

Mr. Arlington had requested Mrs. Pomeroy to give Emily a certain weekly allowance, such as she should deem suitable, and Mrs. Pomeroy did so, but Emily seemed all at once to have grown very economical. She never asked permission to go out shopping, the candy woman's attractions were passed by unheeded, and even resisted the temptation of purchasing some beautiful verbenas to plant in her garden. Mrs. Pomeroy noticed this economy, but made no remark upon it, nor was she much surprised, when after the lapse of some time, Emily brought her ten dollars; the whole sum of her allowance, requesting her to expend it in some way for Kitty's benefit.

But though not surprised, she was much pleased. She thought it a sign of no small firmness and principle in Emily thus to have denied herself almost every pleasure, in order to restore from what was strictly her own, that which she had stolen. Nor did she refuse the money, though she declined to appropriate it to Kitty. There was a charitable fund which had existed in the school, almost since its commencement to which most of the girls were subscribers, and the proceeds of which were appropriated to clothing poor children for Sunday Schools. Mrs. Pomeroy proposed to Emily that this ten dollars, the fruit of her self-denial, should be quietly placed in this fund, and Emily joyfully consented, feeling her heart very much relieved.

Little now remains to be added to our story.

Delia remained very unwell, and greatly depressed in spirits for a considerable time, but the quiet of home, and the kind attentions of her friends at last had their effect, and she gradually recovered her health. Emily spent the summer vacation with her, and they returned to school together. Delia was not a person to do anything by halves. She had once said that it would take an earthquake to convert her, but that then she should stay converted. It was even so. She had had the earthquake, and the rest of the prediction seemed likely to be fulfilled. Her reformation was complete and lasting, and during the last year of her stay at school, she was as noticeable for her consistent Christian character, as she had formerly been the reverse. Her presence was of great service to Emily, who was not possessed of her friend's force of character, and might perhaps have been led again into temptation, without the help of Delia's counsel and example. They finished their school course with credit to themselves and their instructress, and are now both useful and respected women.

We are sorry not to be able to say as much for Miss Crosby. She returned home at the end of the year, not one particle wiser than she had been at its beginning, having expended more time and ingenuity in getting rid of lessons than would have been requisite to learn them twice over. But she was very pretty and graceful, and was soon married to a gentleman, who believed such lovely simplicity would be easily guided, and thought it would be a delightful task to form the mind of such an artless young creature. It is possible that he may have found out by this time that the artless young creature has not only a mind, but a will of her own already formed. Such at least is the idea current among his friends, who do not appear to consider him an object of envy.

Alice Parker was considerably impressed by her conversation with Belle Faushane at the time of Emily's sickness, and began to consider whether she had not been in some degree to blame in making the very worst of her lot instead of the best. As she was not deficient either in strength of mind, or religious principle, she was induced to make an effort at greater cheerfulness, and had really improved considerably, when she received intelligence which seemed likely to throw her back again. Mrs. Williams was attacked with paralysis, and her presence was required at home immediately. Mrs. Williams partially recovered, but remained quite feeble and helpless, and as she was unwilling to have her adopted daughter away from her side, Alice's school career came to a sudden termination. The effect of the change upon her character, was reported by Belle Faushane after her return to school in the fall.

"Oh, and by the way, I went to see Alice."

"How does she get on?" asked Delia. "I suppose she must be more dismal than ever, now that she has to live at home all the time."

"On the contrary, she has brightened up amazingly. I never saw any one so changed. She did not sigh once while I was there, and she laughed quite merrily two or three times. Poor Mrs. Williams suffers a great deal and is quite childish, and Alice has to contrive all sorts of ways to amuse her. She has prevailed upon her to have Mrs. Parker there to keep house for them, which of course makes it much pleasanter, but after all, I believe the change is more in Alice herself."