Mostly Mary Part 5

"Come and have a few bites with us. You look worn out. Goldilocks came down to plan a surprise for you, which Rob and I nipped in the bud. I fear that she is somewhat disappointed; but you would agree with us, I am sure."

Many a time during the latter part of October did the two men regret that they had not granted the little girl's wish--not that their ideas on the subject had changed in the least, but because of an event which plunged every member of the household into intense suffering and grief.

CHAPTER V.

THE FIRST FRIDAY.

All went well during the pleasant, sunny days of September. The people on the avenue learned to watch every morning for the tall, dark, handsome man, carrying the tiny suit-case for the fair little companion tripping along beside him in her simple white dress with its pale blue ribbons; her deep blue eyes looking out from under her big shade hat; her hair like a golden cloud, shining and glistening in the sunlight. At the convent gate they parted--Mary waiting for a last wave from her father after he had boarded the car at the next corner. Then she entered the yard for a romp with her little friends before the school-bell rang.

October came; and the noon hour of the First Friday found the little girl breathlessly mounting the front steps of her home.

"I do wish Father was home. Perhaps I can telephone and catch him at the bank before he goes to luncheon. But no--I shall tell Mother and Uncle Frank the secret now, and then tell Father this evening, and make two good times of it."

Entering the hall, she called to her mother, who was coming down the stairs, "S'prise, Mother! S'prise! Guess!"

"Judging from the way you are holding your chain, I think Sister must have given you a little medal for being a good girl in school."

"You're warm, Mother, but not hot. Two more guesses. Remember, this is the First Friday, and I told you what would happen to-day----"

"Is it possible that you----"

"Well, well, well! What is going on here? Something wrong with your neck, pet? Come, let me see what ails it."

"No, no, Uncle! It is a s'prise, and you may have three guesses. Mother was very hot just before you came in, and I am sure she knows."

"But if holding your neck with both hands has anything to do with it, I fear that it is not a very pleasant surprise."

"I am holding my neck to hide something on my chain."

"Ah, I see. Well, I shall guess one of those tiny pencils that fit into a small note book."

"Cold as ice! _Freezing!_ Why, that wouldn't be worth making a s'prise about."

"Oh, it is something of value, eh?--a piece of Chinese money. The hole in such a coin would make it an easy matter to slip it on your chain."

"Uncle! as if I would put a piece of Chinese money on a chain with the beautiful miraculous medal you gave me when I was baptized! Only one more guess. It is the First Friday, you know."

"You don't mean to say that you have come out on top! Hurray!" cried the Doctor as Mary took down her hands and showed a little silver medal next to the gold one. "That _is_ a surprise worth while!" and tossing her up to his shoulder, he marched into the dining-room, whistling, _Hail the Conquering Hero Comes!_

"Now, tell us all about it," he insisted when the three were seated.

"Oh, it was the most exciting morning! Everyone was almost sure that Mildred Ryan would get the medal, because she is the smartest girl in our cla.s.s. She never has to stop to think before she spells a word; and _tables_! she rattles them off like lightning! So we thought she would surely get the medal, even though Sister said yesterday afternoon that it isn't always the smartest girl who comes out ahead, but often it is the one who _applies_ herself best. I didn't know what Sister meant until recess, and then Rosemary said that she meant the girl who sticks and sticks and _sticks_ at her lessons, and doesn't sit nibbling her pencil and looking out the window. Mildred does that sometimes, so maybe Sister thinks she doesn't apply herself.

"Well, just after recess this morning, Father Lacey came into our room to call the reports. We stood up and said, 'Good _morn_--n--ing, Father!' I am _so_ glad it _was_ morning; for no matter how late in the afternoon it is, some of the girls always forget and say, 'Good _morning_,' to visitors; and I do feel so sorry for Sister. Then we sat down again, and Father Lacey began to call the names. Each girl stood up when he said her name and listened to her marks, and then she made a step-back bow and sat down again.

"I thought my turn would never come. Sister writes the names beginning with A first, then those beginning with B, and so on. Of course, the X, Y, Z's come at the end of the list. There are no T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z's in our room, so my name is the very last one. I stood up when I heard it; but I was so excited that I didn't hear a single mark, and I forgot all about my step-back bow; but I jumped up again and made it. The next minute, I heard my name again, and I thought I must be dreaming until Father Lacey called it _again_ and held up the medal. And what do you _think_! What _do_ you think! The medal had a yellow ribbon on it!

_Yellow!_ Oh, I didn't know what to do! I _couldn't_ let Father Lacey pin a yellow ribbon on _me_ when I never wear any colors but blue and white. But he didn't know that, and I s'pose Sister forgot about it. And all the time, Father Lacey sat there smiling and holding out the medal; and the girls whispered, 'Go up! Go up!' and the one behind me gave me the worst poke; and--and _then_ I thought of my chain!

"So I took it off and walked just as fast as I could up the aisle; but I stood far enough away from Father Lacey so he just couldn't reach me to pin that yellow ribbon on me. I couldn't speak a word, but stood there holding out the chain to him. Then Sister remembered and told him; and he took the medal off the ribbon and slipped it on the chain and fastened the chain around my neck himself and patted me on the head and said for me always to love our Blessed Mother next best to our Lord. And then the girls clapped, and I was so happy that I couldn't see where I was going and nearly fell over the front desk."

"You did, indeed, have a very exciting morning, dear," laughed Mrs.

Selwyn.

"Times have certainly changed, Elizabeth. In our day, the worst part of prize winning was the work one had to do, not the walking up the aisle to receive the reward of one's labors."

"But that was later on in school life, Frank. The first time my name was called for a prize, I think I felt very much as Mary did this morning."

"It wouldn't have been so bad if we had not been so sure that Mildred would get the medal. Still, I believe it would have been more exciting; because then everyone in the cla.s.s could hope that she _might_ get it.

But no one had any hope, because Mildred is so smart. Poor thing! She was in school only until Christmas last year; for after that, she was very sick, and the doctor wouldn't let her come back."

"She must be a very bright little girl to be able to go on with her cla.s.s after missing more than a half year's work."

"Oh, no, Mother, she had to stay in the same cla.s.s, and she was so disappointed."

"Then the work you are doing now is not new to her," said the Doctor.

"Small wonder that she is able to rattle off her tables and spell all the words without any trouble! She would have good reason to be ashamed of herself if she could not do so. Sister Florian's ideas on the subject seem to be the same as mine; so you may leave Mildred out of the race until she begins new work after Christmas."

"You mean, Uncle, that we all have just as good a chance for the medal as Mildred has?"

"A better chance, Mary."

"Then I am going to get it again next month."

"Don't be too sure of that," warned Mrs. Selwyn.

"But I did it once, Mother, so why can't I do it again? I wasn't thinking of the medal, either, when I studied my lessons. I just studied so I would know them."

"That is the best way to do and the surest way to win the prize.

Sometimes, little girls work themselves up to a great pitch over a reward; and if they do not win it, they are almost sick over their failure."

"Dear, me, how silly! As if they couldn't try again, Mother. Mildred didn't act that way. She seemed not to mind it a bit."

"Sister probably explained to her that she could not expect to get the medal until after Christmas."

"Well, next month when Father Lacey comes to call the reports, I shall be all ready with my chain in my hand in case I get it again. Then I will not have to keep him waiting."

"You can save yourself that trouble by putting a blue ribbon on the medal when you return it to Sister at the end of this month," advised the Doctor, his eyes twinkling.

"And have Sister think that I expect to get it? Why, Uncle!"

"But you _do_ expect to get it again, do you not? So why try to hide your feelings?"

"I don't exactly _expect_ to get it, but I _hope_ I shall; and I mean to work harder than ever."

"The medal shows that you have worked quite hard enough, pet. Better slow up a little and give some other girl a chance. Suppose you eat your luncheon. You have not tasted a morsel. This excitement is too much for you," declared the Doctor, noting the child's bright eyes and flushed face.