Chapter Twelve

by Kate J. Neily
Edited and Revised by Amber Moeller

Breathless with excitement, and with her rapid walk, Nelly entered the shop; and, looking neither to the right nor the left in her feverish haste walked directly up to the counter.

"Here is the money, Mr. Butler," she said, "for those bronze boots I bought here a few weeks ago. My mother is very sorry it has not been attended to before, but she has been sick, and things have been neglected."

"O, it is of no consequence," replied the man, bowing politely, and feeling quite ashamed of his suspicions. "I only sent in the bill because I knew Mr. Morgan did not like long-standing accounts. Won't you sit down, miss? And I'll give you a receipt. You look all tired out, as if you'd been running."

"O, no; I don't care about any receipt; it's all right," said Nelly, hastily, and turning quickly to leave the shop, now become so hateful to her. As she did so, she came face to face with Miss Elliott, the very teacher whose money had been found wanting. A pang of fear shot through Nelly's heart, and she thought, could she possibly have seen the note and recognized it? And the, ashamed of her own fears, she said to herself, "As though there were only one five-dollar greenback in the world!" and, with hasty bow, passed out of the store into the street.

Meanwhile, the shopkeeper turned to his customer with a smile, smoothing out the crumpled bill in his hand.

And Miss Elliott, looking at the note, so crisp and new; remembering that Nelly Morgan had been in the library when the five-dollar bill so mysteriously disappeared; remembering, too, seeing her pass her in breathless haste upon the street, though she herself was walking very fast, wishing to do some shopping before going home; recalling her eager hurry in the shop just now, so great that she did not even notice one of the teachers from the school standing just at her side, and the apology she made for the money not being paid when it was due; thinking of all these things, as she glanced at the new and clean but crumpled note, Miss Elliott felt, with a sudden flash of conviction, almost certain that this was the very five-dollar bill which was missing from her book-money; and alas! that Nelly Morgan, a well brought up and intelligent girl, belonging to a family of perfect respectability, and a pupil of one of the highest classes of the school, was a thief!

It was a dreadful thing to believe, and Miss Elliott was exceedingly reluctant to believe it; but her duty to herself, to the girl by whom she had sent the money to the library, who might be wrongfully suspected of having taken some of it out of the envelope, her duty to all the other scholars who assisted in looking for the lost note, and to the principal of the school himself, who might decided to make up the deficiency from his own pocket; her duty to all these compelled her to think that an investigation should be made, and she decided to go directly back to school, and consult with Mr. Potter before he should leave for home.

In the first place, however, she said carelessly to the shopman, --

"I know that little girl; she is one of our scholars. Did she say she bought such an expensive pair of shoes herself? Was not her mother with her?"

"No," said the man; "she was alone when she bought them, and she's been a good while bringing the money to pay for them, which is a little strange, for her mother's a regular customer of mine, but always pays cash. However, the young miss said she was sick, and I suppose she hasn't thought of it. It's all right, I guess."

But Miss Elliott was very much afraid that it was all wrong. She did not wish, however, to let the shopman know her suspicions; so she made her own purchases at once, and then hastened back to the school to communicate her fears to the principal.

Meanwhile Nelly, little dreaming what dread danger was threatening her, was hastening home in a whirl of excited and opposing emotions. Relieved from the terrible fear of open disgrace she was; but what secret shame and self-loathing sickened her soul when she thought that, though the world might never know it, she could never forget that Nelly Morgan was a thief! Not merely a disobedient and deceitful girl, but a criminal in the eye of the law, who, if detected, might be taken up by any of those great, strong stern-looking policemen, and dragged before a magistrate, amid crowds of scoffing rabble, and sent to some house of correction, or perhaps imprisoned in some horrible, filthy cell!

The very idea made the miserable girl shiver with disgust and dread; and, happening suddenly to come upon one of those same tall, blue-coated gentry, she shrank away, like the guilty thing she was, and hurried past him, though the man smiled civilly enough, and offered to help her across the muddy street.

She felt angry with herself for her own weakness the moment after, and tried to encourage herself with the thought that she had meant no wrong in the first place; that there was no such great harm in wearing her own clothes where and when she liked; that it was the fault of the girls who ridiculed her that she had forgotten her rubbers and spoiled her shoes; that it was an evil and malicious fate which had prevented the sale of the work with which she intended to replace them; that the purchase of the second pair of boots was the fault of the girls again, who, by their sneers and coldness, made her determine to go to the party; that the party itself, coming just at that time, was a special temptation to make her do wrong; that Mr. Butler's impatience for his money was an aggravation expressly ordered to driver her to desperation; and that the accident of the money falling directly in her way was a temptation which no human being in her circumstances could have resisted.

Any and everything she seized upon as an excuse, a justification; but none of it brought her much comfort, and she went on her way, if possible more wretched, more despairing, than when she trod the same path that morning, not knowing when or where to obtain money to save her from detection.

So true is it that "the way of the transgressor is hard."

She thought that nothing more cold be left to happen to her; but as she was passing the little old lady's thread and needle shop, the little old lady herself suddenly appeared at the door, and beckoned her in with a good-natured smile.

Nelly went in, half bewildered, and the kind-hearted shopkeeper said, with a look and a tone of real pleasure, --

"Well, my dear, I'm glad to tell you that the shawl is sold at last. A lady came in, not an hour ago, to buy some small wares, cottons and tapes, and such things, and spied this shawl lying the counter. I always kept it spread out where people could see it, you seemed so anxious to sell it, and I felt kind o' sorry for your disappointment, though I did speak up rather sharp to you about coming so often."

Nelly managed to smile and say, "Thank you; no matter;" and the old lady prattled on.

"Well, the lady seemed very much struck with that shawl, and asked me where I had got it. I thought it was a queer question, but she appeared to admire the work so much that I told her, - and I hope you won't mind it, my dear, for I'm sure it's very creditable to you to be so industrious - that it was brought here by a little girl who had made it herself, and who seemed to want money very much for something particular, - some girl's finery, I supposed, - and so I had promised to sell it for her if I could.

"Well, she examined it very closely, and said she thought it was very nice work for a little girl, and asked if you were really only a child. And I said, O, no; you were quite a young miss, and that you had bright black eyes, that look smart enough for anything, as I don't doubt you are, my dear."

"Well?" gasped Nelly, scarcely able to control her impatience.

"Well, but you mustn't hurry me; I'm telling you as fast as I can. The lady examined the shawl very particular, as I said; and then she stood and thought for a minute, and then she said she'd take it, and asked the price. So I told her I was very glad for the little girl's sake, and that she wanted five dollars for it, and I thought it was worth the money. She said she thought so, too, and handed it to me at once. So here it is, and I wish you good luck with it."

Nelly put out her hand mechanically, and took the note, but stood still, without speaking, leaning against the counter, pale, and with a set, bitter face. How hard, how cruel, she thought, it was for this to come just now. Had she had it one hour ago, she need not have become a thief!

It seemed a bitter mockery, too cruel to be borne. What did she care for the pitiful money now? And for a moment she was tempted to tear the bank note into a hundred pieces, and stamp them under her heel.

But in another instant a happy thought flashed, life lightening, across her stormy mind. It was a clean, new five-dollar bill, just such a crisp, fresh-looking one as that which she had stolen and paid away. It was not yet four o'clock; janitor sweeping out the classrooms, and Mr. Porter still busy in the library. Why could she not go back, pretending that she had forgotten some of her books, and give the note to the principal, telling him that she had picked it up in Mrs. Elliott's classroom, where it had probably dropped on the floor, when she was putting her money into the envelope, and been hidden under some the girl's long dresses? That would be a very natural story. Mr. Porter would be too glad at getting the money to think of questioning her word, and no one would ever know anything about it.

Here, at last, seemed a safe and sure way out of all her trials; and Nelly fairly comprehended the blessed possibility, such a rush of gladness cam over her, that she staggered, and seemed as though she would have fainted from the sudden revulsion of feeling.

The little old lady looked at her in amazed disappointment.

"Well," she said, "I thought that you'd be delighted at what I've done for you, and instead of that, you look as if you'd had a blow, and haven't got a word of thanks. What ails you, child?"

Nelly made a strong effort, and regained her self-control.

"I beg your pardon, ma'am," she said, humbly; "indeed, I am delighted; it was because I was so pleased I couldn't speak. I'm sure I'm ever and ever so much obliged to you, and I'll tell everybody I know how kind you are, and what a nice shop you've got. I must go now; I'm in a great hurry; but I'll be sure to come in and see you again. Good bye, ma'am." And she was gone before the little old lady could make up her mind whether to be angry or pleased with the strange girl.

Back to the school house, as fast as she could go, Nelly went, and up the long staircases with flying feet. The janitor had just finished sweeping the room below Miss Elliott's, and was about entering hers with his great broom and dust-pan; but Nelly brushed past him, and walked rapidly between the long rows of desks. Suddenly she stooped, as if to pick up something, and uttered a loud exclamation of delight.

"What have you got there?" grumbled out the old man; "and what are you comin' back here for, after school's out, any way? You know it's agin the rules."

"Never you mind," said Nelly, pertly; "what I've found I'm going to Mr. Porter with; so don't distress yourself;" and with that she pushed on through the long suit of classrooms, and knocked at the library door.

"Come in," called the principal's voice; and Nelly entered boldly, sure that there was no possibility of his suspecting anything wrong. What was her consternation to find Miss Elliott seated there, and to see that the two had evidently been engaged in grave and unpleasant consultation.

Nelly felt the guilty blood rush burning to her face, and she trembled so that she could scarcely stand; but both principal and teacher were surveying her with cold, scrutinizing looks, and Mr. Porter said, in a waiting tone, "Well, young lady, what is it you want? Speak, if you please."

So Nelly made a tremendous effort, and came forward with a tolerable assumption of composure.

"If you please, Mr. Porter," she said, trying to speak her lie steadily, "I think I have found the five-dollar bill which you thought was lost in this room. At least I picked this up just now in Miss Elliott's room, and I thought I had better bring it to you at once."

Miss Elliott started, and looked sharply at the girl; but Nelly kept her eyes upon Mr. Porter's face. He took the note, and glanced at it, then handed it to the young lady, who examined it keenly.

"And how happened you to be passing through Miss Elliott's room, so long after school is dismissed?" asked the principal of Nelly.

"I forgot my geography, sir, and cam back for it," answered Nelly, promptly.

"Do you remember having any such new-looking bill among your book-money?" he asked. "Do you think it is yours?"

"I certainly put such a bill into the envelope," replied the teacher. "But that it could have got out of that, on the floor, and remained there unseen, even after the girls had left the room, seems to me a simple impossibility."

"O, no," said Mr. Porter, with a half smile. "It would not be impossible, though certainly rather careless, to drop one of so many pieces of paper money-"

"And," interrupted Nelly, boldly, "you know you left the classroom as soon as the girls did, Miss Elliott. I saw you in Butler's shoe store."

"Yes, and I saw you there," rejoined Miss Elliott, sharply, indignant at the cool audacity of the girl, whom she verily believed to be witnessing falsely. "And I saw you pay Mr. Butler just such a clean, new bill as this, and as the one that was lost; and he said it was for an expensive pair of shoes, which you had bought alone, and that the payment had been delayed for several weeks, although your mother had never before allowed an account to be kept running."

Nelly, reddened, but answered steadily, --

"I did give him such a bill, and what he told you was quite correct. It was to pay for the shoes which I wore to Fanny Archer's party. My mother has been sick for more than a month, and could not go with me to buy them; and that is the reason why the paying for them had been neglected. Yesterday he sent in his bill, and this morning my mother gave me the money to settle it; but I was too late to stop on my way to school, and so I went in this afternoon."

The girl told her story in a straightforward, respectful way, and Mr. Porter turned to Miss Elliott with a smile.

"Come, Miss Elliott," he said, pleasantly, "I rather think you are mistaken, and that we owe this girl a vote of thanks for having such bright eyes as the find the money, and such an honest heart as to bring it straight to headquarters. I think we had better put it away, and say no more about it."

"I suppose we shall have to," said Miss Elliott, shortly. "But it is very difficult for me to believe that I could have dropped that note without knowing it." Then, looking sharply and suspiciously at Nelly, she sunk her voice to a whisper, and said to Mr. Porter, "I must say, I should like to take means to find out whether that story of the shoes and her mother's sickness is true."

But the principal shook his head, and whispered back, decidedly, "No, no; it would never do. It would make no end of trouble, in school and out. Besides, I really think you are too severe; I see no reason to doubt her story; and where could she have got another bill to replace the lost one so soon? No. I am glad the money is found, and I shall tell her so, and dismiss her at once."

So he raised his head and, with a kind word or two of thanks, told Nelly that she might go; and the girl, overjoyed at having made good her escape in spite of Miss Elliott's unsatisfied suspicions, made haste to leave the room and the building which had been the scene of such strange and painful events.

Lightly, as though her feet were winged, she sped on her homeward way, and, for the first time in weeks, entered into the house with a burst of merry song. Still gayly caroling her light-hearted lay, she ran up stairs to her own room. On the threshold she paused, struck dumb with horror.

To be continued ...

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