The effort Clara had made to do a great service for Susie, had failed dismally, and her mortification was intense, and for the first time she was a little disappointed with Susie, that she could be so serene, and evidently glad even, that the movement had failed. Clara’s refinement of nature and purpose was shocked beyond expression by the coarse conduct of her brother, and not until the doctor came home, late in the evening, and after she had had a long talk with him, did she begin to feel the least return of comfort. “My dear,” he said, “depend upon it, you ought not to feel so mortified. Why, the dignity and real elevation of character that this has revealed in Susie is a compensation for almost anything that could happen. Don’t you see how this shows, beyond a shadow of doubt, that she is no common girl?”
“I’ve known that a long time, papa. She surprises me every day. I shall not be able to help her much more in her botany; nor in anything, indeed. It is well I am going away, to save my credit. The dear girl thinks me so proficient, that it makes me ashamed of myself. Oh, papa! I passed at Stonybrook for a very satisfactory student; but if I had had this experience with Susie before going there, I should have done better. Susie has taught me what application means.”
Clara had not gone into the house on returning with Susie, but left her at Mrs. Buzzell’s door. Susie, on entering, threw her arms around Mrs. Buzzell, and laughed and cried together, and it was some time before she could tell the whole story to her friend. The good old lady was horrified at Dan’s treatment of the parson, but she was quite content at the result of the expedition.
“God, who numbers the very hairs of our heads, Susie, is directing all things for the best. If you bear your yoke bravely, you will be raised up for some good work in the world. I wonder now, how I could have entered into the scheme so confidently; but it was Clara’s enthusiasm. I felt all the time that we might be just whipping the Devil around the stump, and so we were.”
“I could have interfered,” said Susie, “between Dan and the minister, and my appeal would have been heard; but something stronger than my motive to do so, controlled me. I felt ashamed to marry Dan. It seemed to me so unholy a thing, when he does not love me, but is thinking all the time of another and dearer woman.”
“That shame was a noble feeling, dear; and shows me what your nature really is, better than I ever knew it.”
The next day Clara went over as usual to hear Susie’s lessons. She found her alone, by the table in the sitting-room, tearing apart and analyzing flowers with her new microscope. As Clara entered she rose, and as their eyes met, the owlish gravity of Clara struck Susie comically, and this, in conjunction with the memory of yesterday’s proceedings, made her burst out into a low, musical laugh, which Clara’s gravity could not resist.
“Well, you are a study, Susie. I came over here from habit simply. I had no idea you would have any lessons, and here you have already been out botanizing alone.”
“Why, Clara, I have not felt so well in weeks and weeks. A great weight is lifted from my heart. Dan is gone out of my hopes forever, and henceforth I shall stand alone so far as he is concerned. He is free—and oh, it relieves me so to think of that!”
“Well, dear, I guess you are nearer right than any of us. I felt a little hard at you, coming home yesterday, for the triumph that I detected in your eyes every time I looked at them. You are a strange little being, but I am reconciled after a long talk with papa. He applauds you to the skies; but let us get through with our lessons, for he will be here by-and-by. Of course, he will keep the secret, and I think there is no danger from Dan,” she added, laughing.