The Pool of Stars
Cornelia Meigs
Paperback
(CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, May 4, 2018)
When Betsey went, two days later, along the hill road again she walked far more quickly and did not hesitate at the turning of the lane. She was on her way to Aunt Susan’s to announce her determination and she felt, this time, neither irresolution nor reluctance. She went firmly up the graveled drive, asked the grave butler whether her aunt were at home, and, waiting in the big, impressive drawing room, even heard the approaching rustle of Aunt Susan’s elaborate silk skirts without feeling her courage give way. “I have made up my mind not to go.” She got it out quickly, almost before a word of greeting had passed. “My father wants me to go to college and my mother did, too. If I should leave my work now I feel sure I would not do what I have planned. So—so I must stay.” There was no need for her to say how much she wished for the journey. She felt, in fact, that it was wise to say as little as possible and to bend all her efforts to resisting the storm of arguments and protests that would be poured out upon her. Aunt Susan was a person much accustomed to having her own way and was dangerously skillful at persuading people to do her bidding. “Think how lonely you will be,” she began immediately. Once this had been the single thought that made staying at home seem unendurable, but now even that difficulty, it seemed, could be faced. In one short afternoon at Miss Miranda’s, Elizabeth had felt herself surrounded by such a warmth of friendliness that already she felt certain that here would be a refuge where she would be welcome and at home, no matter how empty and deserted her own house might seem. To come home from school, weary with the labors of the day and find no one there save Anna, busy in the kitchen and not wishing to be disturbed, to have no one glad to see her or desirous of knowing just how things had gone—it had seemed a depressing prospect. But now that she knew Miss Miranda it was somehow different. Elizabeth could not have explained just why she felt, after only an hour or two of acquaintance, after only a little talk, that here was a friend to stand by her through everything. Feel it she did, however, and with the knowledge, made firm her decision. But to hold to that decision was not so easy. “I was absolutely certain that you would come with me,” Aunt Susan exclaimed, trying a new point of attack. “I had even decided what clothes you were to have. Your traveling suit was to be green faille silk with white furs.” Betsey had before had experience with dresses planned by Aunt Susan. They were apt to be of the sort in which you could not run upstairs, or that split their sleeves if you raised your arms suddenly, but they were always very beautiful. She sighed a little at the thought of the white furs. “And I dare say you could go to school here and there in places where we stopped long enough,” her aunt went on; “that ought to be all you need for keeping up your work.” She had not been to college herself and had not grasped the fact that dropping in upon one school and then another could fail to produce all the education necessary. Elizabeth tried to explain, but found it useless. She wished that, having stated her determination, she could go home at once, for the longer she stayed the more irresistible and enticing did the journey seem. She had rashly consented to stay to dinner, however, and so must prepare for a long struggle. The dinner was half enjoyable on account of the beautiful things on the table, silver and flowers and frail china that Betsey loved, and half terrifying on account of the things that Aunt Susan might be going to say next. She said a great deal, she exclaimed, she expostulated, she persuaded, until her niece was at the point of exhaustion. “But it will be so dreary, all by yourself!” she kept insisting, in answer to which Betsey continued to maintain stoutly— “Miss Miranda is going to be a good friend to me. I will not be entirely alone.”