Marcella's Reward

"Marcella's Reward" is a captivating short story by Lucy Maud Montgomery that follows the journey of the titular character, Marcella, a young woman determined to pursue her dreams against societal expectations. Set in the picturesque backdrop of early 20th-century rural Canada, the narrative explores themes of love, ambition, and the quest for personal fulfillment. As Marcella navigates the challenges of her ambitions and the complexities of relationships, she learns valuable lessons about resilience and the true nature of reward. Montgomery's signature rich prose and deep character development shine through, making this story a poignant reflection on the balance between personal aspirations and the realities of life.

• Short story

								
Dr. Clark shook his head gravely. "She is not improving as fast as I
should like to see," he said. "In fact--er--she seems to have gone
backward the past week. You must send her to the country, Miss
Langley. The heat here is too trying for her."

Dr. Clark might as well have said, "You must send her to the moon"--or
so Marcella thought bitterly. Despair filled her heart as she looked
at Patty's white face and transparent hands and listened to the
doctor's coolly professional advice. Patty's illness had already swept
away the scant savings of three years. Marcella had nothing left with
which to do anything more for her.

She did not make any answer to the doctor--she could not. Besides,
what could she say, with Patty's big blue eyes, bigger and bluer than
ever in her thin face, looking at her so wistfully? She dared not say
it was impossible. But Aunt Emma had no such scruples. With a great
clatter and racket, that lady fell upon the dishes that held Patty's
almost untasted dinner and whisked them away while her tongue kept
time to her jerky movements.

"Goodness me, doctor, do you think you're talking to millionaires?
Where do you suppose the money is to come from to send Patty to the
country? I can't afford it, that is certain. I think I do pretty
well to give Marcella and Patty their board free, and I have to work
my fingers to the bone to do that. It's all nonsense about Patty,
anyhow. What she ought to do is to make an effort to get better. She
doesn't--she just mopes and pines. She won't eat a thing I cook for
her. How can anyone expect to get better if she doesn't eat?"

Aunt Emma glared at the doctor as if she were triumphantly sure that
she had propounded an unanswerable question. A dull red flush rose to
Marcella's face.

"Oh, Aunt Emma, I can't eat!" said Patty wearily. "It isn't because
I won't--indeed, I can't."

"Humph! I suppose my cooking isn't fancy enough for you--that's the
trouble. Well, I haven't the time to put any frills on it. I think I
do pretty well to wait on you at all with all that work piling up
before me. But some people imagine that they were born to be waited
on."

Aunt Emma whirled the last dish from the table and left the room,
slamming the door behind her.

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. He had become used to Miss Gibson's
tirades during Patty's illness. But Marcella had never got used to
them--never, in all the three years she had lived with her aunt. They
flicked on the raw as keenly as ever. This morning it seemed
unbearable. It took every atom of Marcella's self-control to keep her
from voicing her resentful thoughts. It was only for Patty's sake that
she was able to restrain herself. It was only for Patty's sake, too,
that she did not, as soon as the doctor had gone, give way to tears.
Instead, she smiled bravely into the little sister's eyes.

"Let me brush your hair now, dear, and bathe your face."

"Have you time?" said Patty anxiously.

"Yes, I think so."

Patty gave a sigh of content.

"I'm so glad! Aunt Emma always hurts me when she brushes my hair--she
is in such a hurry. You're so gentle, Marcella, you don't make my head
ache at all. But oh! I'm so tired of being sick. I wish I could get
well faster. Marcy, do you think I can be sent to the country?"

"I--I don't know, dear. I'll see if I can think of any way to manage
it," said Marcella, striving to speak hopefully.

Patty drew a long breath.

"Oh, Marcy, it would be lovely to see the green fields again, and the
woods and brooks, as we did that summer we spent in the country
before Father died. I wish we could live in the country always. I'm
sure I would soon get better if I could go--if it was only for a
little while. It's so hot here--and the factory makes such a noise--my
head seems to go round and round all the time. And Aunt Emma scolds
so."

"You mustn't mind Aunt Emma, dear," said Marcella. "You know she
doesn't really mean it--it is just a habit she has got into. She was
really very good to you when you were so sick. She sat up night after
night with you, and made me go to bed. There now, dearie, you're fresh
and sweet, and I must hurry to the store, or I'll be late. Try and
have a little nap, and I'll bring you home some oranges tonight."

Marcella dropped a kiss on Patty's cheek, put on her hat and went out.
As soon as she left the house, she quickened her steps almost to a
run. She feared she would be late, and that meant a ten-cent fine. Ten
cents loomed as large as ten dollars now to Marcella's eyes when every
dime meant so much. But fast as she went, her distracted thoughts went
faster. She could not send Patty to the country. There was no way,
think, plan, worry as she might. And if she could not! Marcella
remembered Patty's face and the doctor's look, and her heart sank like
lead. Patty was growing weaker every day instead of stronger, and the
weather was getting hotter. Oh, if Patty were to--to--but Marcella
could not complete the sentence even in thought.

If they were not so desperately poor! Marcella's bitterness overflowed
her soul at the thought. Everywhere around her were evidences of
wealth--wealth often lavishly and foolishly spent--and she could not
get money enough anywhere to save her sister's life! She almost felt
that she hated all those smiling, well-dressed people who thronged the
streets. By the time she reached the store, poor Marcella's heart was
seething with misery and resentment.

Three years before, when Marcella had been sixteen and Patty nine,
their parents had died, leaving them absolutely alone in the world
except for their father's half-sister, Miss Gibson, who lived in
Canning and earned her livelihood washing and mending for the hands
employed in the big factory nearby. She had grudgingly offered the
girls a home, which Marcella had accepted because she must. She
obtained a position in one of the Canning stores at three dollars a
week, out of which she contrived to dress herself and Patty and send
the latter to school. Her life for three years was one of absolute
drudgery, yet until now she had never lost courage, but had struggled
bravely on, hoping for better times in the future when she should get
promotion and Patty would be old enough to teach school.

But now Marcella's courage and hopefulness had gone out like a spent
candle. She was late at the store, and that meant a fine; her head
ached, and her feet felt like lead as she climbed the stairs to her
department--a hot, dark, stuffy corner behind the shirtwaist counter.
It was warm and close at any time, but today it was stifling, and
there was already a crowd of customers, for it was the day of a
bargain sale. The heat and noise and chatter got on Marcella's
tortured nerves. She felt that she wanted to scream, but instead she
turned calmly to a waiting customer--a big, handsome, richly dressed
woman. Marcella noted with an ever-increasing bitterness that the

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