Part 20 (2/2)
[Sidenote: A Girl Captain]
One day a host of Indians attacked them so suddenly they had hardly time to barricade the windows and doors. The fight was so fierce the soldiers considered it useless to continue it, but Madeleine ordered them to their posts, and for a week, night and day, kept them there. She taught her little brothers how to load and fire the guns so rapidly that the Indians were deceived and thought the fort well garrisoned.
When a reinforcement came to her relief, it was a terribly exhausted little girl that stepped out to welcome them at the head of the defenders--Captain Madeleine Vercheres, aged fourteen!
Yes, we like to tell this story of Madeleine over and over.
We like to paint pictures of her, too, and to mould her figure in bronze; for we know right well that she is a type of the strong, brave, resourceful la.s.sies who in all ranks of our national life, may ever be counted upon to stand to their posts, be the end what it may.
Gentlemen, hats off! The Canadian girl!
[Sidenote: Evelyne resented the summons to rejoin her father in New Zealand. Yet she came to see that the call to service was a call to true happiness.]
”Such a Treasure!”
BY
EILEEN O'CONNELL
”Evelyne, come to my room before you go to your singing lesson. I have had a most important letter from your father; the New Zealand mail came in this morning.”
”Can I come now, Aunt Mary?” replied a clear voice, its owner appearing suddenly at the head of the stairs pinning on to a ma.s.s of sunny hair a very large hat. ”I want to go early, for if I arrive first, I often get more than my regular time, and you know how greedy I am for new songs.”
Mrs. Trevor did not reply; she walked slowly into her morning-room and stood at the window looking perplexed and serious, thinking nothing about her niece's lessons, and looking at, without seeing, the midsummer beauty of her garden. A few minutes later the door opened, and she turned to the young girl, who with a song on her lips danced merrily into the room.
At the sight of Mrs. Trevor's face she stopped suddenly, exclaiming, ”Something is wrong! What has happened?”
”You are right, Eva, something has happened--something, my child, that will affect your whole life.” With a falter in her voice the woman continued, ”You are to leave me, Evelyne, and go out to New Zealand. You are needed in your father's house.”
[Sidenote: ”I Refuse to Go!”]
”To New Zealand?--I refuse to go.”
”You have no choice in the matter, dearest. Your mother has become a confirmed invalid, and is incapable of looking after the children and the house. Your father has naturally thought of you.”
”As a kind of servant to a heap of noisy boys, half of whom I never have seen even. I daresay it would be very convenient and very cheap to have me. However, I shall not go to that outlandish place they live at in New Zealand, and you must tell father so.”
”But I cannot, Evie. There is no choice about it. Your parents have the first claim on you, remember.”
”I deny that,” said the girl pa.s.sionately; ”they cared so little about me that they were ready to give me to you and go to New Zealand without me; that fact, I think, ends their claims. And Auntie, having lived here for eight years, and being in every way happy, and with so much before me to make life worth living, how can they be so selfish as to wish to ruin my prospects and make me miserable?”
”Eva, Eva, don't jump to conclusions! Instead of believing that the worst motives compelled your father's decision, think it just possible that they were the highest. Put yourself out of the question for the moment and face facts. Your parents were _not_ willing to part with you; believe me, it was a bitter wrench to both to leave you behind. But settling up country in the colony was not an easy matter for my brother with his delicate wife and four children. Marjory was older than you, so of course more able to help with the boys, and knowing that his expenses would be very heavy and his means small, I offered to adopt you; for your sake, more than other considerations, I think, my offer was accepted. Since Marjory's death your mother has practically been alone, for servants are scarce and very expensive. Now, poor soul, her strength is at an end; she has developed an illness that involves the greatest care and rest. You see, darling, that this is no case for hesitation. The call comes to you, and you must answer and do your duty faithfully.”
The girl buried her face in the sofa cus.h.i.+ons, her hat lay on the floor.
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