Entering school is always a disagreeable ordeal, and to a sensitive
nature, such as Beulah's, it was torturing. Madam St. Cymon was a
good-natured, kind, little body, and received her with a warmth and
cordiality which made amends in some degree for the battery of eyes
she was forced to encounter.
"Ah, yes! the doctor called to see me about you--wants you to take
the Latin course. For the present, my dear, you will sit with Miss
Sanders. Clara, take this young lady with you."
The girl addressed looked at least sixteen years of age, and, rising
promptly, she come forward and led Beulah to a seat at her desk,
which was constructed for two persons. The touch of her fingers sent
a thrill through Beulah's frame, and she looked at her very
earnestly.
Clara Sanders was not a beauty in the ordinary acceptation of the
term, but there was an expression of angelic sweetness and purity in
her countenance which fascinated the orphan. She remarked the
scrutiny of the young stranger, and, smiling good-humoredly, said,
as she leaned over and arranged the desk: "I am glad to have you with me, and dare say we shall get on very
nicely together. You look ill."
"I have been ill recently and have not yet regained my strength. Can
you tell me where I can find some water? I feel rather faint."
Her companion brought her a glass of water. She drank it eagerly,
and, as Clara resumed her seat, said in a low voice: "Oh, thank you! You are very kind."
"Not at all. If you feel worse you must let me know." She turned to
her books and soon forgot the presence of the newcomer.
The latter watched her, and noticed now that she was dressed in deep
mourning. Was she too an orphan, and had this circumstance rendered
her so kindly sympathetic? The sweet, gentle face, with its soft,
brown eyes, chained her attention, and in the shaping of the mouth
there was something very like Lilly's. Soon Clara left her for
recitation, and then she turned to the new books which madam had
sent to her desk. Thus passed the morning, and she started when the
recess bell rang its summons through the long room. Bustle, chatter,
and confusion ensued. Pauline called to her to come into lunchroom,
and touched her little basket as she spoke, but Beulah shook her
head and kept her seat. Clara also remained.
"Pauline is calling you," said she gently.
"Yes, I hear; but I do not want anything." And Beulah rested her
head on her hands.