Rhoda's Education by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

ISA was at first delighted with the news of Rhoda's good fortune, but presently she grew troubled.

"You won't go away and leave me, will you? " she asked.

"No, dear, of course not. Don't think of such a thing," was Rhoda's reply.

"Because, really and truly, I don't think I could bear to live if you did," continued Isa. "You know, Rhoda, pa calls you his other daughter now, and I can't help thinking, I don't know why, that you will be all the daughter he has before long."

"Why do you say that, Isa? " asked Rhoda. "Don't you feel as well as usual?"

"I don't feel a bit strong," answered Isa; "but that isn't the reason. I can't tell you what it is, but I think so. And I do want you to stay with me so much."

"Of course I shall stay with you. I never thought of anything else. You know I am to go home with you for holidays; and won't we get up an elegant Christmas tree at 'The Home'? I wonder what would be the best presents for the old ladies? I think shawls would be nice, don't you?"

The diversion of the Christmas tree proved enough for the time, and Isa was presently quite happy in planning a crochet shawl for Mrs. Josleyn. But she recurred to the subject more than once, and Rhoda could see that her mind dwelt a good deal upon it.

Rhoda thought it best to mention the matter to Miss Hardy, who sent for Dr. Douglass. The doctor came down, examined Isa, and made her happy by the present of a bird.

"There is no immediate cause for alarm," said he to Rhoda afterward. "She has certainly lost both strength and flesh since I saw her, and I think she has a little fever. She is likely enough to go off in a decline; and you know, my child, that as things are, we could not wish it otherwise. You can see yourself that her mind fails more and more."

"Yes, sir," answered Rhoda, sadly. "I wouldn't see it for a good while, but I have had to give it up."

"It was to be looked for," said Dr. Douglass. "The poor child has been utterly and recklessly sacrificed on the altar of her father's deity, 'Education."

"I don't think Isa ever would have made a scholar under any management," observed Rhoda. "She never liked books. She loved to work about the house and sew and do little things in the kitchen, but she never cared even for reading, and she hated the piano. I remember her saying once that she did not want to go to heaven if it was all music."

"Do you often have such cases, Dr. Douglass? " asked Miss Hardy.

"I have similar ones far too often," replied the doctor. "Usually they are like this. A girl goes on till she is twelve or fourteen, learning absolutely nothing that she ought. Very likely she will not be able to read intelligibly or write a page without misspelling half the words. All at once the parents wake up to the fact that their daughter is a dunce. Then they proceed to put on the screws. The girl's own ambition is awakened, and she works with might and main, and all the work that ought to be spread over ten or fifteen years is crowded into five. The girl graduates with great honour-at sixteen, very likely; and the next thing you hear of her, she has gone to a water-cure, or she is in a decline, or some slight attack of cold or fever carries her off. Then everybody but the doctor says, 'What a mysterious dispensation of Providence! ' Very much so! The 'mysterious dispensation' to me is that which gives children to people who have no sense to take care of them."

"I don't think Isa ever had any easy time," remarked Miss Hardy. "She has always been driven. I wonder her mother would allow it."

"She could not help it, Miss Hardy," said Rhoda. "Mr. Ferrand had a system, and that answered for everything. Isa must sleep on a hard bed, in a cold room, without a fire, with no carpet, and always with her windows open in all weathers, because the system required hardening. She must eat porridge for her breakfast, though she could not bear it; and if her mother remonstrated, Mr. Ferrand had something to say about the Spartans and their black broth."

"The Spartans were a set of blockheads and ruffians," said the doctor, very conclusively.

"And the worst of it was there was no 'let up," continued Rhoda. "Isa never had any fun like other girls. I hardly ever heard her laugh heartily till after she came here. No girls ever came to see her, and she never visited, because Mr. Ferrand thought their society was not improving. And yet he meant well; and he is half broken-hearted about poor Isa now."

"It is not enough, my young friend, that people 'mean well," said the doctor. "They also need a little sense and some capacity of being taught. As to Isa, there is nothing to be done. Let her have her own way as far as possible, and try to keep her cheerfully employed. It was an excellent move of yours to set her to work for the old women, as she tells me you have done. Get her out as much as you can. Has she had any attacks lately?"