THE COST OF A MISSED LESSON

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXIII, Issue 23, 8 June 1905, Page 24

THE COST OF A MISSED LESSON

Oit 1 bright December afternoon Gladys Arthur hurst into the library, where her mother was writing letters. Mrs. Arthur looked up and smiled at the sight of her little 'daughter's happy fare ' Well.' dear 7 ' she said, as Gladys threw her arms around her neck with the Ki^s with which s,he never failed to greet her mother , and, quite out of breath and very much excited, Gladys told her story in a rather incoherent fashion. It was several momerts before Mrs. Arthur grasped the fact that Miss Palmer, whose school Gladys attended, had offered a pri/e to he given at the end of the year to the gi.rl who excelled in French. As Gladys was undoubtedly the best scholar, she had no fear as to her ability to win the prize Her father was informed of the wonderful news when he came home to dinner ; and, to add to the general

excitement, he promised Gladys that if she won the prize, she might accompany him to Europe the following autumn. While Gladys was gifted with great intelligence, she haS some serious faults, among that of leaving until another time things which should be done at once. This failing was the source of great unhapoiness to her parents, if she failed to prepare her lessons, she invariably trusted to luck and to her own quick wit to carry her through a class. She usually succeeded in mal-ing a creditable recitation, although with careful preparation she might have made a brilliant one. Her father and mother were 'by no means pleased with this halfway style of doing things, and Mr. Arthur liad an object in 'view when ho made Gladys so generous an offer ; for he was a busy man and had very little time to himself. He was going abroad partly an business, and circumstances rendered it impossible for him to take his whole family to Europe at that season. Gladys was delighted with his proposition, and determined to win both the prize and the trip. Her mother had a very serious talk with her that night, showing her that she must conquer her fault, to be able 10 win either reward. Gladys promised faithfully to study hard and to overcome her habit of procrastination. For several months she succeeded admirably ; but as spring advanced with her many pleasures Gladys 'grew careless. The change was gradual, but it was none the le^s real. Her recitations were only passable sometimes ; and, although the following days wouW bring her marks high above those of her companions, she was steadily losing ground. Still she was far in advance of most of her schoolmates, ana" not one of them thought that Gladys would fail to win the ' French prize,' as it came to be called. Thctre was, however, one exception to this rule— a giil who was a great student, and who. although lacking mtuch of the natural talent which Gladys possessed, was more persevering and studious. While Gladys was engaged in tennis or boating, Ethel Morgan spent the long slimmer afternoons in hard study. She did not learn easily and quickly, as did most of the girls in her clpss ; but what she did learn she remembered. At the time of reviews and examinations her retentive memory stood her in better stead than did the somewhat superficial knowledge of her brilliant classmate. Ethel was not so great a favorite as Gladys, and as soon as the rri'/e was offered she spent even less time thpn usual with her comnanions The girls took very little/ notice of her ; and, in fact, she was sometimes openly slighted, as she had the appearance of being excessn ely cold and proud Wnrm-heartcd Gladys had more than once discovered that Ethel was hurt by the unconscious ill-treatment 6he received from the very girls who should have been her friends ; and her impulsive little champion keenly resented it as cruel and uniust. How Gladys discovered the warm heart beneath that cold exterior it would be difficult to say ; yet she, and she alone, pierced through the cloak of reserve with which the sensitive girl concealed her real feelings ; and Ethel was undoubtedly giateful for the ?und attentions of this lovable schoolmate Ethel was a boarding-pupil, but not one of the dayscholars had e< er invited her to dinner or to tea at their homes, although these permissions were sometimes accorded. I<>en Gladys had not gone so far as this; and Fthel was often sad and lonely— or would have been but for her books which she loved dearly. Her recitations were faultless, although she had none of Gladys' bright animation. Still Gladys did not fear a rival in this quiet, unobtrusive girl. One morning in early May Gladys accepted an invitation to a picnic ; and, thinking; it best not to interfere, Mrs. Arthur left her daughter to ncr own decision. Although Gladys knew very well what her mother's wishes were, she decided to miss school—' just for one day.' as she said lamely, in an attempt at self-defence. N T ow, it hapremed. that on this very day Mademoiselle Monnprt had discovered a serious error in the textbook,, and as she had explained it carefully to her punils, the French lesson was especially important. The ne\t day Gladys had a severe cold, and, in spite of tearsand protestations, her mother insisted upon her remaining at home. Gladys made up the missed lessons, but remp'ned in complete ignorance of the error Mademoiselle had so carefully explained. It was but a few weeks before Commencement, and no one in the graduating class remembered to tell her. When the morning of the 22nd of July dawned, and Gladys, arrayed in her pretty white dress, with her essay, tied w th white satin ribbons, held tightly in one hand, walked down the broad avenue, she had no kriow-»

ledge of the blow which was about to fall. Nor could her cousin and most intimate friend, Louise Chalmers, enlighten her on the subject. Mr. and Mrs. Arthur, with Gladys' younger brother Hal, were to drive to Miss Palmer's later, to meet the invited guests at two. Before that time the ranks of the different classes were to be read, for much depended on the year's work. It was to count 50 per cent, with regard to the ' French prize/ A short oral examination was then held in that allimportant subject, the girls standing In line, and each having a question asked her in turn. Gladys, who was particularly anxious to have perfect marks in this, as Ethel had come out a little ahead of her in the year's standing, stood at the head of the class, and Ethel just below her, The former, in spite of her Intense anxiety, maintained an air of studied indifference ; a bright red spot in either cheek alone betrayed her repressed excitement. Ethel made no attempt to conceal ncr feelings, as she nervously fingered a drawing-pencil she had found at the blackboard ; yet there was no outward sign of tihe injward tumult raging in the girl's heart. Her love for her friend, her natural desire to win the prize, struggled for supremacy ; and the victory over self is not an easy one. Both girls answered every question which was put t 0 them, but at last something was asked which related to the lessen Gladys had missed. The question was put to a girl halfway down the line'; but she shook her head, and the question was passed. The girls had either been very inattentive or they had forgotten Mademoiselle's explanation. Gladys was thunderstruck. She did not know the least tning about the subject, and would be unable to answen the question. As she stood there ; half frigiitened and not a little puzzled, Ethel's struggle with self suddenly ended. She hastily scribbled the answer to the question upon a piece of paper lying at her feet, which she picked up without attracting attention, and slipped it into her schoolmate's hand. Visions of her trip flashed before Gladys' eyes, and she thought of how much it meant to her. She looked down at the scrap of paper and read the words. The color rashdd to her face, then faded away, leaving her deathly pale. Poor Mademoiselle was anxiety personified ; and 1 as she turned to Gladys for support, she was too relieved to notice the white,, set face, or tbjat the girl's voice, was low and tremulous as she answered the question. The examination was soon over, and the girls walked back to their seats ; but, although they were now free to do as they wished, Gladys' heart was too heavy to allow her to join in the fun. Miss Palmer had in\ited the day-scholars to luncheon, but Gladys' food remained untouched upon her plate. She carefully a\oided Ethel's eyes, and was so genuinely uncomfortable that the elder girl wondered if she had made a mistake. She was too generous to regret what she had done, so far' as she herself was concerned ; but Gladys' misery was too obvious to be gainsaid. Ethel felt that her hard-won victory had done more harm than good, and she was right. As the guests came in, Gladys, for the first time in her life, was ashamed to meet her father's eyes , and Hal's boyish ' Wish you luck, sis ! ' hurt heir more than he could e\er know. The exercises went on, and soon the distribution of pri/ea began. Gladys was not forgotten, but she barely glanced at the handsome books on her desk. At last Mademoiselle Monpert came forward with a small velvet tase in her hand. After a few complimentary remarks in her pretty, broken English, she called out the name of the winner, ' Mademoiselle Gladys Arthur ! ' And the name was heard all o\er the room. Gladys hesitated a moment. E.\ery eye was fixed upon the fair young face, now flushed with shame. Hal ga\e her a slight push. ' Brace up, old girl ! Don't be a chump ! ' And the boy's slang aroused her. Gladys recovered her self-possession and walked quickly forward. She barely glanced at Mademoiselle, but her Aoice, although very low, was heard by everyone. ' I do no 4 deserve the prize, and the girl -who does is Ethel Morgan. 3t 'does not belong to me, for I— l cheated. I was promtpted, and I took advantage of it for I was absent when Mademoiselle explained' the points I failed on. I'm sorry, and — oh, don't look at me like that, Mademoiselle ! I know what lam saying. The prize! belongs to Ethel Morgan.' Poor Gladys ! Her voice faltered, but her father's arm was around her, and he gently drew her to a seat. There was a 'buzz of excitement, and the little velvet 'box was given to its rightful owner — Ethel Morgan. But the sweet-faced little girl in white was the object of all eyes ; everyone aflmired her for so bravely and frankly confessing her fault. Gladys saw her father start out on his European

trip alone, but she never forgot the long talk in his study the night before his departure. As she waved her handkerchief when the carriage 'drove oft, she remembered his words on the evening of that dreadful day : 'My brave little girl, I'm proud of you ! ' And she seemed to feel again the warm pressure of His hand. Gladys and Ethel grew to be fast friends, and Ethel had no longer cause to complain of loneliness. Late one afternoon, several weeks after Commencement, when the two girls and Hal were sitting together in the twilight, Ethel asked suddenly : ' Are you never sorry you told Mademoiselle, GlaSys and so lost your trip abroad ? ' ' No, Ethel dear, I am not sorry^ because it would have been acting a lie if I— l had (lone anything else. I would not have enjoyed the trip— or anything else, for that matter— with a lie on my conscience.' And Gladys' voice was low and earnest. ' She's a true Arthur ! ' whispered Hal, softly, with an admiring glance at his sister, and also a determination to imitate her in every possible way. Gladys Arthur had missed a lesson, but in its stead sho hard gained two, of far greater importance than the French lesson ; and, knowing this, her father and mother were content. — ' Aye Maria.'