A SEALSKIN JACKET by Rose Terry Cooke

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Dec 22, 1887

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 13, No. 49.

A SEALSKIN JACKET.

By Rose Terry Cooke

A STORY FOR GIRLS.

(Concluded.)

For a week the thought grew and grew in Nelly's mind, till it blossomed and bore fruit. She knew her father dealt at Cantrell's, so one day she stopped in there, and, in a very shamefaced way, selected a pair of sealskin gloves and had them charged to Mr. Ray.

She did not think then how and where she was to wear those gloves without being found out.

The next Sunday her father was away, gone to New York on business, and her mother had a bad headache. So Nelly drew on the pretty, soft gauntlets, as soon as she left the house, putting her kid gloves into her pocket, and she wore them again to make some calls on the following Saturday.

"You look real nice," said Sue Beers, turning her around like a dressed figure in a shop-window to inspect her. "Real nice; all but that old cashmere dress. I do wish you had a velvet skirt or even a silk. That dress is awfully shabby. It looks too mean for anything."

"I wish I had," sighed Nelly, cast down not only by the consciousness of her old dress, but also of the new gloves which she had gotten dishonestly.

Next Sunday both her father and mother went to church, and the seal gloves had to be left in her drawer. She had cold fingers, for she would not carry her plush muff, and the day was one of midwinter. Sue Beers whispered loudly, "Where's your seal gloves?" And Nelly hushed her with a start and a glance at her mother, who, however, had not heard the question.

It happened soon after that Ella Brown's father died, her only parent living, and she went into deep black. A bright idea struck Sue Beers. She hurried across to Nell's desk at recess and begged her to come with her into one of the unused recitation-rooms.

"O Nell!" she exclaimed, as soon as the door was shut, "I've been struck with a thought, as old Dr. Hodge says. Ella Brown's father is dead, you know, and I don't believe but what you could buy her blue velvet dress. It would look just lovely with your jacket and your hair."

"O Sue! you don't suppose she would sell it, do you?"

"She! I guess she would, quicker'n scat. She'd sell her head, if anybody wanted to buy such an empty shell."

"But I haven't got a bit of money, Sue, and I know father wouldn't any more buy it!"

"That's too bad. Haven't you got any kind of jewelry, though? She'd just as lieves wear any kind with black. She don't know any better."

Nell, too, was struck with a thought. Her one great treasure was a beautiful little watch that had belonged to her father's grandmother; a dainty thing no bigger than a large locket, with a cherub's head painted on the back, and set round with a row of tiny diamonds, too small to be very valuable, but bright as a circle of living sparks. Nelly's grandmother had left her this watch in her will. It was so precious she was not allowed to wear it; but last summer she had had a birthday party, and when the girls all went up into her room for their hats, as they went away, she had shown them this watch, of which she was very proud. Ella Brown was so charmed with it that she offered Nelly her own watch and her garnet pin and ear-rings in exchange for it on the spot; but Nelly would not listen to the proposal.

Now, however, she began to think it possible that Ella would give her the blue velvet dress for her watch, and the more she thought of it the more tempting the idea grew. After school she drew Sue Beers aside and said to her:—

"Sue, would you mind asking Ella if she would give me that velvet dress if I would give her my watch? Say give; for, of course, I'd rather tell that she gave it to me."

"Oh, I know she would!" exclaimed Sue. "She raved about that watch, and it is yours, isn't it? Your very, very own?"

"Why, of course, Grandma Gordon left it to me in her will, when I was a little baby."

Sue went over to Ella's and the silly, motherless girl was only too ready to give Nelly her dress in exchange for the beautiful watch she had so long coveted. The next Saturday a large box was left at Mr. Ray's door, just at twilight, and Nelly, who was on the watch, took it to her room, and appeared in the dress at her mother's chamber door the next morning, with her hat on and her jacket hanging over her arm.

"Look, mamma!" she said, "this was Ella Brown's dress before she went into mourning. She sent it to me. Isn't it awfully handsome?"

Mrs. Ray was astonished and displeased.

"It is much too valuable a thing for you to accept, Nelly. I am sure your father won't like it."

"O, mother dear! it's no use to Ella. Why shouldn't she give it away, if she wants to?"

Tears stood in Nelly's bright eyes, and she looked so lovely in the soft gentian-blue folds of the dress, her hair showing all its golden lights against the contrasting color, and her face glowing with pleasure, that her mother had not the heart or the courage to protest any more or forbid her to wear it, and her father, being in New York again on business, did not see the new dress until the next Sunday, as he only returned late Saturday night.

Nelly had dressed herself and slipped quietly off to Sunday-school while he was breakfasting, and was already in the pew arrayed in all her finery except the sealskin gloves, when he entered.

Mr. Ray looked at her with an expression of stern astonishment, and Nelly began to feel very miserable; but, of course, nothing could be said then and there. On the way home, however, Mr. Ray did speak, but not to Nelly.

"Amanda," said he, "how could you get Nelly such an expensive dress? I can't afford it, everybody knows as well as you do; and how do you think her finery looks beside my shabby coat and your plain bonnet? I wonder, by the way, that Anne should give you such a bare-looking hat."

"Oh! it had five lovely plumes on it, John; but I put them on Nelly's hat—it looked so shabby with her new jacket."

"A—h! and for the same reason you bought her that velvet dress?"

"Oh! no. I did not buy that at all. Ella Brown gave it to her. It was a new dress of hers, but her father died, you know, and she went into mourning, so she couldn't wear it."

"Then it must go back to Ella Brown. I cannot have Nelly wearing other people's finery, such as I can't afford to buy for her. You must do it up to-night, Amanda, and either you or I must take it back to-morrow."

"O John! I do hate to."

"Very well, then, I will."

Nothing was said to Nelly, who passed the rest of the day in anxious suspense. Mr. Ray never found serious fault with his children or punished them on Sunday—it was a day of peace in his household; but Nelly felt some impending event, and dreaded to have Monday arrive.

After she was at last asleep, Mrs. Ray went into her room and took down the velvet dress from her wardrobe. Behind it she saw a pair of new sealskin gloves, hanging on a lower peg. She had never seen them before, and thinking Anne had sent them with the coat she said to Mr. Ray, who had come upstairs:—

"I didn't know there were gloves sent with that coat, John."

"There were none," he said. "What do you mean?"

"Why, there are a pair hanging in Nelly's wardrobe, and I thought they must have come with the jacket."

Mr. Ray took the candle and soon brought back the gloves.

"Look here!" he said. "Here is Cantrell's stamp on the lining. What does this mean?"

Mrs. Ray did not know. They exchanged looks of painful apprehension, but said no more. Nothing could be done till morning.

Nelly was not allowed to go to school the next day; and very soon after breakfast Ella Brown was surprised to receive a call from Mr. Ray.

"Ella," said he, "I have brought back the dress you gave Nelly. It was very kind of you, but I do not like to have her wear anything so expensive."

"But I don't want it back. I won't have it! I can't wear it, and I want to keep the watch," she said, crossly.

"Watch! What watch?" he asked.

And then it all came out. Ella was angry and impertinent, and at last burst into tears; but Mr. Ray was firm, and she had to give him back Nelly's pretty bauble, and resume her own property.

Next he went to Cantrell's, and found Nelly had bought the gloves there and had them charged to him; and as they were but a little worn, they took them back at a heavy discount. Then Mr. Ray went to his office heart-sick about his child, yet resolved to give her the whole benefit of the lesson she so evidently needed.

He was a man of few words, and all he said to her that night was:—

"Nelly, do you remember I said to you that a sealskin jacket would cost you twice its price? It has cost much more. It made you so selfish that you were willing to strip your mother's bonnet to make yours prettier; so dishonest that you bought gloves without my leave, and had them charged to me; so untruthful that you gave your mother to understand that dress was a gift from Ella Brown, when you had really overpaid her for it. I shall not trust the watch in your hands till you prove your fitness for its possession; and as for the jacket, it is your Aunt Anne's.

She did not think I did you justice, because I said it would increase your love of dress, and lead you into trouble, when she wanted to lend it to you for the winter. I consented unwillingly to put you to the test. I feared, yet I hoped you could bear it, Eleanor, and you have entirely failed. The jacket has cost dearer things than money."

Nelly could not speak. She buried her face in her hands; she was candid enough to see fully and most painfully what she had done.

The lesson was not lost on her, hard as it was, and both her father and mother lived to be glad of Aunt Anne's experiment; but to this day Nelly has never again wished for a sealskin jacket.—Rose Terry Cooke.