An independent daughter

Persis Holmes was walking slowly down the street. The summer breeze swept her college gown around her in swirling lines, and ruffled her hair so that once or twice she put up her hand to tuck back the straying locks under her “mortar board.” She was coming from one of the dormitories, and her goal was the gray building farther down the street. She had not yet reached the long walk which led the way, between pleasant stretches of green sward, up to the door of the principal college building, when she heard some one running behind her. “Stop, Persis,” a voice called.

Persis paused and waited for a little dumpling of a girl who came up nearly out of breath. “I thought I’d never catch you,” she panted. “You look just like a poster girl, Perse, with those spiral folds wrapping around you. I want to know if you’ve heard from Annis.”

Persis looked down smilingly at Patty Peters’s little roly-poly figure. Persis was not much over medium height, but she quite towered above Patty. “I did have a letter this very morning,” she replied. “It was written from Heidelberg, and the boys had been there.”

“Tell me what she said.” And Patty gave a little skip in order to keep up with her friend’s longer pace.

Persis took a letter from one of her note-books. “We’ll go to the reading-room, and I can tell you.”

Patty agreed, and, swinging open the heavy door at the entrance of the building, Persis led the way, and the two girls settled themselves in a corner for a whispered conference.

They were laughing heartily when they were joined by Nettie Greene. “What are you two chuckling over?” she asked.

“Why, Persis has just been reading a letter from Annis,” Patty replied. “Tell her, Persis.”

“Why, it is only a story about one of our college boys; the captain of a foot-ball team he is. You know how the students in Heidelberg think they display their prowess by slashing each other, and duelling, and all that foolishness. Well, Harvey Dana is there studying, and one day, as he was walking down the street, two German students stepped up, and one of them struck him square in the face. You can imagine Harvey’s rage. He just drew off and gave the fellow a blow, and a twist that sent him rolling over and over in the gutter. Then he squared on the second one, and for a moment the volumes of German and English words of wrath made the place tremble, but the first fellow picked himself up, and they all looked at each other, and then the Germans broke out into a roar of laughter, and apologized, asking to shake hands, and wanting Harvey to take a glass of beer with them. They just wanted to test him.”

“Well, they found out the stuff of which he is made,” said Nettie. “Of course, Annis is having a lovely time, but you must miss her very much, Persis.”

“I do miss her. Yes, she is having the treat of her life, and the voyage did her good. Annis is not very strong,—that is, she has not the endurance that I have, and Mrs. Brown thought a year of Europe would do more for her than this last year of college.”

“How do you like living in the Boarding Hall?” asked Nettie. “You had such a pleasant home with the Browns; it seemed too bad that you had to give it up just at the last.”

“So much the better that I did not have to give it up before. I don’t mind the experience. I’m rather fond of new experiences. I am finding out a lot about human nature, and the truth of the saying, that you don’t know people till you come to live with them, is daily becoming more and more borne in upon me. The girls here are truly a motley crew.”

“I know,” returned Nettie. “I tried it last year, you know. The first and second year Margaret and I were together, but this last year mamma thought I might be trusted to behave myself outside of college walls, and so I’ve had rather a freer time. I must say I don’t like being hedged in by rules and regulations.”

“I don’t mind those much,” replied Persis, “but I must confess I don’t like to be quite so close to some of my neighbors. There is one girl who is the most pervasive person I ever saw. She slams her door so that it shakes the building every time she goes in or out her room; her tread upon the stairs is like an elephant’s, and she screams through the halls like a fish-woman. I can’t imagine what sort of a home she has lived in, and yet she is supposed to belong to nice people.”

Nettie smiled. “Like a girl who has been boarding where I do,” she remarked. “She makes her boast that she can be ready for breakfast three minutes after the bell rings, and that she never gets up till she hears it. I told her I hoped she didn’t do it often, for if cleanliness were next to godliness she must be miles away from the latter. It was very rude of me to say so, but she provoked me to it.”

Persis laughed. “How did the three-minute maid like that?”

“She was furious, naturally, but I noticed after that she was much later in coming down to breakfast. She is horrid anyhow. So very ill-bred, and the most vulgarly exacting creature you ever saw. She pays less board than any of us, and seems to think our dear, kind Mrs. Scott keeps boarders simply because it is a privilege to have such young persons under her roof. I can’t bear the idea of demanding more than you pay for, and I wish you could see this fussy and fastidious young woman. Such actions as hers prove her no Christian, if they do not prove that she is underbred.” And Nettie sniffed contemptuously.

“Mothers are very right when they tell us that they are judged by our actions,” put in Patty. “I always get my idea of a girl’s home from the way she behaves away from it, and perhaps it is not always fair to her mother.”

“Let’s adjourn to my room,” Persis proposed, bouncing up. “I only came over to hunt up a reference, and then I’ll be ready to go back. Mell sent me a big box of home-made caramels to-day, and they’re fine.”

“Where is the girl who could withstand such a treat?” replied Nettie. “I’m ready to sample them. What do you hear from home, Perse? All well?”

“All are well. Grandmother has had a cold, but she is better. Father is busy on his new book. Lisa and mamma are absorbed in wedding-clothes. Mell has been sulking for some time past, and sent me the caramels as a peace-offering.”

Nettie looked up inquiringly.

Persis laughed. “Oh, it’s nothing, only Aunt Esther invited me to spend a part of the summer holidays with her. She has a project for a trip in which I am included. Mell has always felt that, in some way, she had a pre-empted right on Aunt Esther, and she didn’t relish being set aside on this occasion. It’s mean of me to tell it, but you know her so well.” Persis was always contrite when she came suddenly to a realizing sense of having said more than was necessary. She turned to the bookcases, wishing she could hold herself in check more readily.

But these, her special friends, did not censure her, for they knew the Holmes girls of old. Nettie Greene and her sisters, in particular, had been the playmates of Persis and her sisters ever since they could toddle, and Nettie was fonder of Persis than of Lisa and Mellicent. Lisa, the eldest, was soon to marry a young naval officer. Mellicent, the youngest, had just finished her studies at Miss Adams’s school, and did not care to undertake a higher course. She was fond of admiration and pleasure, and, being an exceedingly pretty girl, was likely to have both. She had sweet, affectionate, appealing ways, generous she was, and devoted to the friends who professed a fondness for her, or who admired her, but she was quite ready to turn from them at a word of dispraise, or at the slightest appearance of lack of admiration. Of the three Holmes girls, she was, so far as mere external beauty went, perhaps the most attractive. Lisa, in her way, was quite as handsome, and possessed of a really finer character. She was, however, imperious and haughty, and needed the discipline of sorrow to develop her. Persis, the middle one, had her faults. She was quick-tempered, decided in her opinions, and rather too ready to express them, but she was forgiving and sympathetic, selfsacrificing and loyal to the last degree, ready for self-reproach when she realized that she was at fault, and willing to admit her error. She was at this time slightly above medium height, with an erect carriage which made her look taller. Her intelligent speaking countenance reflected every emotion, and her earnest gray eyes spoke of truth and sincerity. She did not look at all like her sisters, and although the mere casual observer was ordinarily attracted to the other two, Persis’s friends perceived a beauty which mere outline of feature was not required to express.

Having sought out her reference, Persis closed the book she was consulting and put it carefully back on the shelf. She loved all books too well to treat any one of them carelessly. “Come girls,” she said, and the three took their way towards a tall brick building about a block farther up the street, known as the Boarding Hall. Patty Peters was Persis’s next-door neighbor on her right; on the left was the room of “the girl with the elephantine tread,” as Persis called her.

The girls made themselves comfortable in Persis’s pretty room. Here her originality and individuality showed themselves very plainly.

Nettie, nibbling at the caramels, looked around and said, “Perse, you always do have such a way of making places cosey. There is nothing bleak and bare about this room, and yet it is cool and refreshing. I believe if you were in an Esquimaux hut you’d find a way to make it look bright and cheerful.”

“I should try,” returned Persis. “I believe in being bright and cheery, and in doing all one can to make the rest of the world feel so; and Patty feels the same way.” Persis cast an affectionate glance towards her little neighbor. “Patty is a cure for the blues any day,” she continued. “She is naturally a bit of sunshine. As for myself, I decided long ago that I could be either gloomy, miserable, and burdensome, or cheerful, happy, and helpful, just as I cultivated a contented spirit. It is mainly a matter of cultivation. I used to think it was much more interesting and romantic to be repining, and to bemoan the weariness of existence and the joylessness of the world, but I’ve found out since I came to college that the persons who are always sighing, and fancying trouble at every turn, are not the ones who succeed or who help to raise the world to a better condition; therefore my motto is, ‘unwavering cheerfulness.’”

“But one can’t wear butterfly wings all the time,” Nettie made reply.

“No. I don’t mean that one needs to be frivolous and unsympathetic. I think it requires a lot of strength and determination to be cheerful all the time, but it helps more than anything. Why, the girls who come in here ready to flop on some one, and get into perfect panics over supposed future miseries, quite wear me out. There is one in particular who is a perfect ‘old man of the sea:’ she hangs around your neck, and you have to carry her everywhere.”

Nettie was thoughtful. “I don’t believe I ever thought of my blues hindering other persons’ lives,” she remarked after a pause.