Part 2 (1/2)
”And that injury might be pa.s.sed on to future generations. There lived a poor girl, about a hundred years ago, who was uncared for by good people and wronged by evil ones, and to-day she is known as a 'mother of criminals,' and no one can tell where the mischief will end. You would feel very indignant if you knew that some one had done your mother an injury in her girlhood, and you would feel the same way should any one wrong your sisters.”
”I knocked Bill Jones down last week because he said something to my sister Kate.”
”You felt a righteous anger and manifested it. Well, in all probability you will some day marry. If so, there is in the world to-day the girl who will be your wife. How do you want her to be treated by the boys who are her school-companions? Do you like to think that they are rough with her, or playing at lovering with her? Is it a pleasant thought that she is allowing them to caress her or write her silly sentimental notes?”
Carl's face was scarlet, but he answered bravely; ”No, it isn't.”
The Doctor continued. ”Some day, in all likelihood, a little girl-child will climb upon your knee and call you papa. No creature can ever be to you what that little daughter will be. If any one should injure her----.”
”I'd kill him,” broke in Carl hotly.
”If you feel that way, dear boy, you should remember that every girl is some one's daughter, perhaps some one's sister, will probably be some one's wife and some one's mother, so that all girls should be sacred to you, treated with chivalrous courtesy and protected even as you feel you would protect those who may belong especially to you.”
”But don't you believe in boys and girls being friends at all?”
”Most a.s.suredly I do. Nothing is more charming than the frank comrades.h.i.+p of girls and boys, and that is why I am so sorry to see them spoil it with sentimentality. They ought to be good friends, helping each other, having jolly good times together, but never in ways that will bring a blush to the cheeks of either, now, or in the years to come.”
A rap sounded on the door and the maid entered with a note which she gave to the doctor, who handed it to Carl, saying, ”Here is the note for Miss Bell. I have kept you waiting a long time, but I hope it has not been unprofitable.”
”Indeed it has not. I am ever so much obliged to you, I am sure.”
”And if you ever wish to talk to me again you will feel free to come, will you not?”
”Yes, ma'am, I surely will,” answered the lad with a frank clasp of the hand.
”Wait a moment,” said the doctor, ”I have just thought of a little book that I am sure you will be interested in reading. It is called 'A Gateway and a Gift,' and it deals with some of the questions we have been talking about this evening. You can lend it to some of your boy friends if you wish.”
”Thank you,” said Carl, taking the book which the doctor handed him, and then with another ”Good night,” he walked away in the darkness.
The note which he gave to Miss Bell the next morning read merely:
”Don't say anything to Carl. Just wait.”
If Miss Bell had seen a note slipped by Carl into Susie Glenn's hand an hour later she might have thought it an evidence that the doctor's plan had failed. But had she read the note her opinion would have been that it had succeeded. It read:
”Dear Susie:--It was real mean of me to write that note yesterday. Will you forgive me? Say, Susie, I think all this nonsense about lovers and sweethearts is silly rot, don't you?
Let's be just friends. Respectfully yours,
CARL.”
Susie's answer was short but to the point. It read:
”All right. Let's.
SUSIE.”
Several months later Miss Bell and Miss Lane called again on Dr.
Barrett.
”Have you come with another problem?” asked the doctor.