Helen and Arthur; or, Miss Thusa's Spinning WheelHentz, Caroline Lee
General
Helen and Arthur; or, Miss Thusa's Spinning Wheel
Hentz, Caroline Lee
Fiction
"Helen, you poor little forlorn lamb," cried a rough, husky voice--and
the sudden eclipse of a great shadow passed over her. "Helen, I did not
mean to leave you here--on my soul I did not. I forgot all about you. As
I hope to be forgiven for my cruelty, it is true. I only meant to keep
you here till school was dismissed--and I have let you stay till you are
starved, and frozen, and almost dead."
"It was my fault," replied Helen, in a meek, subdued tone, "but I'll try
and study better, if you won't shut me up here any more."
"Bless the child!" exclaimed the master, "what a little angel of
goodness she is. You shall have all the sunshine of the broad earth,
after this, for all my shutting out one ray from your sweet face. That's
right--bring her along, doctor, under your cloak, and don't let the
frost bite her nose--I'll carry the lantern."
Wondering that the father had not sought for his lost child, Arthur
carried her home, while the master carefully lighted their slippery
path.
Great was the astonishment of Mr. Gleason, on seeing his little daughter
brought home in such a state, for he imagined her at the fireside of one
of her companions, in company with her sister. Her absence had
consequently created no alarm.
Not all the regret and compunction expressed by Master Hightower could
quell the rising surge of anger in the father's breast. His brow grew
dark, and Miss Thusa's darker still.
"To lock up a poor, little motherless thing, such a night as this!"
muttered she, putting her spectacles, the thermometer of her anger, on
the top of her head. "To leave her there to perish. Why, the wild beasts
themselves would be ashamed of such behaviour, let alone a man."
"Don't, Miss Thusa," whispered Helen, "he is sorry as he can be. I was
bad, too, for I didn't mind him."
"I do not wonder at your displeasure, sir," said the master, turning to
Mr. Gleason, with dignity; "I deserve to feel it, for my unpardonable
forgetfulness. But I must say in my defence, I never should have thought
of such a punishment, had it not been suggested by yourself."
"Suggested by me!" repeated Mr. Gleason, angrily; "I don't know what you
mean, sir!"
"Your eldest daughter brought me a message, to this effect--that you
desired me to try solitary confinement in the dark, as the most
effectual means to bring her to obedience; having no other dark place, I
shut her in my desk, and never having deposited a living bundle there
before, I really think I ought to be pardoned for forgetting her."
"Is it possible my daughter carried such a message to you from _me_,"
cried Mr. Gleason, "I never sent it."
"Just like Mittie," cried Miss Thusa, "she's always doing something to
spite Helen. I heard her say myself once, that she despised her, because
everybody took her part. Take her part--sure enough. The Lord Almighty
knows that a person has to be abused before we _can_ take their part."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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