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diff --git a/40526.txt b/40526.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 65f78de..0000000 --- a/40526.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5193 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Chronicles of Rhoda, by Florence Tinsley -Cox, Illustrated by Jessie Willcox Smith - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: The Chronicles of Rhoda - - -Author: Florence Tinsley Cox - - - -Release Date: August 18, 2012 [eBook #40526] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CHRONICLES OF RHODA*** - - -E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Emmy, and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made -available by Internet Archive/American Libraries -(http://archive.org/details/americana) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 40526-h.htm or 40526-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/40526/40526-h/40526-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/40526/40526-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive/American Libraries. See - http://archive.org/details/chroniclesofrhod00coxfiala - - - - - -THE CHRONICLES OF RHODA - -[Illustration] - - -THE CHRONICLES OF RHODA - -by - -FLORENCE TINSLEY COX - -Illustrated by Jessie Willcox Smith - - - "_O the radiant light that girdled - Field and forest, land and sea, - When we all were young together, - And the world was new to me._" - - - - - - - -[Illustration] - -Boston -Small, Maynard & Company -Publishers - -Copyright, 1909 -By Small, Maynard & Company -(Incorporated) - -Entered at Stationers' Hall - -The University Press, Cambridge, U.S.A. - - - - - TO THE MEMORY - OF - - MY FATHER AND MY MOTHER - - - - -CONTENTS - - PAGE - I A DETHRONED QUEEN 1 - II LILY-ANN 29 - III THE OLD MAJOR 61 - IV THE FIRESIDE GOD 93 - V THE HOTTENTOT 129 - VI A SOCIAL EVENT 165 - VII AUNTIE MAY 197 - VIII THE GREEN DOOR 229 - IX THE HIDDEN TALENT 257 - - - - -I - -A DETHRONED QUEEN - - -"YOUR name is Rhoda," grandmother said, with the catechism open in her -hand. "Rhoda. Rhoda. It's quite easy to say." - -"Ain't I the little pig that went to market?" I asked, anxiously, gazing -up from her lap into her eyes, over which she wore glass things like -covers. "And ain't I Baby Bunting?" I continued, with the memory of a -famous hunt stealing over me. - -"Once you were," grandmother answered, soberly. "Now you are Rhoda." - -I liked to sit in grandmother's lap. She had such a soft silk lap, and -in her pocket-hole there was a box which held peppermint drops. She -never gave them to anybody but just me, when I was good, and if her -arms were thin and fragile under the soft silk, she knew how to hold a -little girl in a most comfortable fashion. Her white hair rippled down -low at the sides, concealing her ears, but her ears were there for I had -run my fingers up to see. She wore a lovely lace collar, and a breastpin -with a picture on it, and when she walked the charms on her watch-chain -clinked in a musical way. Grandmother was beautiful, and every one said -that I looked just like grandmother. That was very nice, but puzzling, -for my hair was golden, and my eyes were uncovered, and where -grandmother had her wrinkles I had only a soft pink cheek. - -I never sat very long on grandmother's lap. It was a function that meant -catechism or extreme repentance, and then, also, I was too popular for -one person to have me always. The family handed me around very much -like refreshments. Now I would be with mother, and now with father, and -now with Auntie May, who did not live at our house, but would run in on -her way to school to pat my head. They were all so fond of me that it -was quite gratifying. - -"Where is Rhoda?" father would ask the very first thing when he came -into the house at night, and I would sit up for him, holding on tightly -to my chair for fear that they would put me to bed before he came. - -Then we would have a little talk together, up in a corner by ourselves. -He was my confidant, and was more on a level with me than other people. -I had an idea that he would give me anything, quite irrespective of -goodness or badness, for when I was naughty he never appeared to think -any the worse of me, although the rest of the family might be bowed down -with the sense of my moral shortcomings. He was my champion, and in the -early twilight I had many stories to tell him, not always of the -strictest veracity. - -"And so I runned away, far, far away, and I only came home just now," I -invented, in an airy manner. - -"Did you see any one on the road?" he asked, with sudden interest. - -He was aware of my love of a romance. - -"There was a little old woman in a red cloak with a red pepper in her -mouth," I answered, peeping up in his face with wide, truthful eyes. - -"Mother Hubbard!" my father cried, clapping his hands like a boy. -"Mother Hubbard! But where was her dog?" - -"Her dog was behind, and he had a red pepper in his mouth," I added, -hastily. - -"I wonder what they were going to do with them," my father said, luring -me on. - -"Don't you know, father?" I cried, delighted. - -"No, I can't think." - -"Pies! She was going to make pies out of them! Pretty red pepper pies!" - -"Sure enough!" my father said, much surprised. "I never thought of that. -How I wish that I'd been along!" - -The little old lady in the silk dress used to quake when I said these -things. That was one of the reasons why she was teaching me my catechism -at such an early age, and I could repeat some pretty hymns, too, which -helped to comfort her. Always, no matter how extravagant the tale might -be, she made her protest. She meant that, at least, there should be one -strong hand to guide the child on the right road. - -"That is not really so, Rhoda," she declared, in a severe voice. "You -did not see an old woman with a red pepper in her mouth." - -I looked at her with a pout. - -"Well, I did see an old woman in a red cloak, grandma." - -"No, you didn't see an old woman at all. Child, you have not been out of -the house to-day!" - -"I saw a dog with a red pepper in his mouth," I said, meekly. - -"No, you did not even see a dog." - -"Well, I saw my own red pepper!" I cried, breaking into sudden tears, -for this was my last stronghold, and if the pepper was taken away all my -charming fairy tale was gone. - -"It's not a question of truth or untruth," my father said, tossing his -head back as if he were displeased. "It was merely a story of adventure. -Pray did you never meet any heroic beasts yourself in your own day?" - -I opened one wet eye, and stole a cautious glance at grandmother. - -"Never, Robert, never!" - -I began to cry again harder than before. - -Then my father took me in his arms, and carried me upstairs to my -mother. - -"Grandmother has been making her tell the truth," he said, ruefully. -"She hasn't any sympathy with Rhoda's imagination." - -So even in those early days I found that I had an imagination, just as I -had a chair with long legs, and a blue plate, and a silver mug. It was a -sleeping imagination as yet, for though I had a beautiful blue plate -with a blue bridge over a blue and white stream, I never imagined until -after years that those tiny figures on the bridge were lovers running -away from a cruel parent. Then the bridge was the spot beyond which the -gravy must not flow. When it swept over the boundary which I marked for -it, I pounded the table with impotent rage, and would eat no more -dinner. - -"If she were a child of mine," grandmother said, sternly, "she should -eat her dinner. It is simply preposterous that her temper should be -allowed to go unchecked. What will she be when she grows up!" - -"I don't think that Rhoda has a bad temper," my mother replied, -plaintively. "It's only that she's the soul of order." - -My mother always discovered an excuse that fitted my case, and that -critical grandparent of mine found the ground swept from beneath her -feet. I was the soul of order. She had seen me herself with my large -basketful of toys wending wearily about the house. It was a large -basket, a beautiful yellow one with a red handle, and when I began to -play my things came out of it, and when I was through playing they went -into the yellow basket again. I had a rag doll of a pleasing -appearance, named Arabella, and a black woolly creature, which to the -eye of affection was a dog, and some of the small bits of carved wood -with which a wooden Noah intended to replenish his earth. I played the -most delightful games with these toys, and my mother played with me like -another small child. - -It was with her that I lived most of my life. We were together, not only -during the day, but also at night, for when I woke up hours after I had -been put in my crib, she was always sitting in the lamplight, sewing or -reading, or else quietly watching the fire on the hearth. There was a -cheerful glitter from the brass andirons and fender, and on a shelf -above a silver candle-stick with crystal pendants threw out rosy lights. -I did not know any of these wonderful things by name, but I vaguely -enjoyed their engaging sparkle, and would lie feeling very safe and -warm, with my eyes on the central figure which came and went, now large -and mother-like, now lost in the misty depths of slumber. - -Strong as was my feeling of proprietorship in that crib, however, there -came a dreadful night when I awoke to find myself lost. I was in a new -bed. I was in grandmother's big bed, where there was a faint smell of -lavender which I liked without knowing why. Grandmother herself had me -in her arms and was soothing me. - -"Hush-a-by, baby," she said, in quite a new tone, somewhat like a -grandmother, but more like an angel. "Hush-a-by, baby, in the treetop." - -I sat up and looked about for the shining fender. It was gone! The fire -was gone, and my mother was gone! - -"I want my mother," I said, sternly. - -"Rhoda can't have mother now. Rhoda must stay with grandma," the dulcet -voice went on. "Grandma's own little Rhoda!" - -"But I want my mother," I cried, all the sternness breaking into sobs. - -Grandmother was evidently alarmed. She rocked me softly, she gave me -hurried sips of water, and, at last, she emptied the peppermint drops, -not one by one as heretofore, but, lavishly, in dozens, into my hand. I -felt a little more comfortable. The fender was a pretty thing to watch, -but peppermint drops were peppermint drops. I went to sleep in my -grandmother's arms quite calmly, while with tender touches she dried my -eyes and smoothed my hair. - -"Bless the child!" I heard her say, in the pause between dreams. - -It was rather a shock, perhaps, to wake up in that big bed next morning -and be dressed by grandmother. She was very awkward at it, as if she -had forgotten how small garments were constructed, and how hard it was -for arms to go into sleeves. I was preternaturally good, but even when I -slipped my hand into hers to go downstairs I was meaning to desert her -when mother came into sight. - -We went down to breakfast, very clean and neat, with short, sober steps -that suited both our gaits. Father came hurrying to meet us and was -quite overjoyed to see me; but, although I searched in all the closets -and behind the doors, there was no mother in any of the rooms. When no -one was looking at me I started upstairs to hunt for her. Grandmother -called me back in that old tone which must be obeyed, which had the ring -of authority and catechism in it. - -"Stay here, Rhoda," she said, decisively. "You are not to go out of this -room." - -Then with cautious steps she mounted up herself, passing into the -forbidden regions, and father and I were all that were left of the -circle about the table, which was usually so gay with talk and -merriment. To my eyes father had a look as if he, too, were frightened. - -"Never mind, father," I said, eagerly. "Rhoda won't run away." - -He took me up with rather an apologetic laugh. - -"Little daughter," he said, in a tender way, "did I ever tell you about -the big bird?" - -"No, father," I answered, quickly. - -"Not about the time when it brought me Rhoda?" - -I stared at him with delighted eyes. Evidently I was going to hear -something of great importance, something which concerned me alone. - -"Three years ago," my father began, in an easy fashion, "I thought I'd -like a little daughter. So I sent a letter to a beautiful big bird -which lives far away where the blue sky comes down to the ground. The -bird has lots of little babies--girl babies and boy babies--on the shore -of a lake where the sun shines day and night. She's a very good-natured -bird, and sometimes when she hears of a father who's lonely because he -hasn't any children, she'll put a little baby under her wing, and fly on -over the beautiful country until she comes to its father's house. Now -the bird knew that I was very lonely, because I had sent her a letter, -so one day she picked up little Rhoda out of a lily leaf, and came -flying along--flying along--" - -"I remember! I remember!" I cried, clapping my hands. "She put me under -her wing, and the feathers did tickle so!" - -My father stopped to laugh; but in a moment he continued his narrative. - -"She came flying along straight into the garden where I was walking -about. She put you down--" - -"And you said, 'Is this my little Rhoda?' and I said, 'Yes, father!'" - -"Just so." - -"Now tell it all over again, father," I demanded in delight. - -My father laughed and hugged me closer. He still had that apologetic -look on his face, and if I had been a little older and a little wiser, I -would have known that my father was trying very hard to break something -to me. - -"She has a great many babies," he said at last, in an uneasy tone. "More -than she knows what to do with. Yesterday I wrote her to send me another -Rhoda." - -I drew away from him, dumbfounded. - -"Another Rhoda!" I exclaimed, with a gasp, frowning at him. - -"Wouldn't you like a little sister to play with?" he inquired, -tenderly. "To sleep with you in your crib? And sit by you at the table?" - -"No, father." - -"Oh, yes, yes, you would, Rhoda!" - -"No, no, no!" I screamed, breaking into angry tears. - -He tried to comfort me in a blundering, laughing manner, but in the -midst of all my sorrow grandmother's voice called to him from above. - -"Robert!" - -When the room cleared before my eyes I saw that I was alone. - -At that same moment I had decided on my course of action. Very quickly, -very quietly, I collected my plate and mug, my woolly dog and pleasant -faced doll, and the yellow basket with the red handle, and stowed them -all away in a dark corner under the sofa, where they were hidden from -sight. My blue hood which hung in the hall, and was something quite new -and precious, I put on my head, where it would be safest. Then half -terrified, half defiant, I took up my position at the window to watch -for the arrival of that other self which would dispute my realm. Every -second I dreaded to hear the flutter of wings as the bird passed over -the house, and to see another Rhoda standing expectant in the garden, to -see my father, perhaps, hurrying to meet her with outstretched arms. It -was a terrible hour. - -In my need, however, I found a new friend, Norah from out the kitchen. I -had known her before, as a person owning unlimited cake, and apt to -display a strong liking for myself, but then she had been only an -outsider, while now she was almost nearer to me than my mother. I threw -myself straight into her willing arms, and told my story. - -Norah was evidently astonished, and almost incredulous. She did not -believe that there could be another Rhoda. She had never heard of any -bird, but when I persisted she shared my views, and entered into my -position with great partisanship. - -"But, sure, I'd not worrit my mind," Norah said, consolingly. "No burrd -in her sinses would take a baby out in such weather as this." - -To be sure it was raining. I had not thought of that before. A fierce -storm was beating against the house, and pools of water stood under the -trees. The raindrops on the window pane ran down in small rivulets, and -splashed against the sill just as my tears had done before. - -"She'll get her feathers all wet," I cried, triumphantly. - -"And she'll not dry them at my kitchen fire!" Norah declared, with -stupendous daring. - -We were out in the kitchen now. It was a very pleasant homely place. A -kettle sang on the stove, and a cat purred on the hearth, and the carpet -had beautiful red stripes that seemed too pretty to walk on. Norah was -very good to me. She had my high-chair ranged at the side of the hearth, -and the cat, under compulsion, sat on my lap, and they all sang,--the -kettle, the cat, and Norah, in their several fashions, as if they were -happy. They acted very much as if they were entertaining royalty. - -If it had not been for my sorrow I should have enjoyed myself, but the -thought of that bird would pass across my mind. She had come once when -she was sent for, bearing me from my lily leaf to my own home. The rain -might fall, and the day might be very dark, but who was to know if that -conscientious bird would not still fulfill her mission? Why, there were -five children in the next house, and the bird must have brought them -all! When the bell rang, as it rang many times in the course of the day, -I would creep to the kitchen door to listen, and feel greatly relieved -when I found that it was only men and women who wanted to come in. - -"It was no burrd," Norah would say, reporting on each occasion. - -"Did you lock the door?" I asked, anxiously. - -"I did that. There's no burrd shall make her way into this house -to-day," she answered, with a great show of determination. - -Even as she spoke there came a faint strange sound from upstairs, a -wailing cry, as though something very weak was angry and frightened, and -wanted matters arranged to suit its own will and convenience. For one -moment I thought Norah heard the sound, too. She seemed to smile; but on -the instant she broke into a queer, elfish song, and began to dance -before the fire in an irresistible way that brought me capering beside -her in a burst of glee. The bird had passed out of my mind, and I was -Rhoda again, the little queen of the household, to whom all deferred, -even grandmother in her tenderer moments. - -It was very late that afternoon when I heard my father calling to me in -an eager, excited manner. He came out into the kitchen where I and the -cat were both in Norah's lap, indistinguishable in the growing darkness. - -"Where is Rhoda?" he cried. "Where is my little daughter? I've got -something to show her." - -I went to him quickly. It was nice to have him back again, and to be -kissed in the old fond way. He threw me upon his shoulder and started -off; but even as we stepped into the hall he called back to Norah, still -with that boyish eagerness in his voice. - -"You can come, too, Norah," he said, generously. "I want you to see what -we've got upstairs." - -Norah joined us without comment, and followed behind through the hall -and upstairs into mother's room. There it was very dark, for the -curtains were drawn, and the only light came from the fire on the -hearth, in front of which grandmother was sitting. She sat in a new -majestic style, and on her lap there was something bundled up which she -patted from time to time, and she trotted her feet in a funny seasaw -fashion. When she saw us come in she smiled, and then very slowly she -folded down a covering, and showed us a pillow, and on the pillow there -were two little babies' heads. - -"Twins!" Norah cried, and threw up her arms in the air. "Now the saints -be good to us," she said, piously. - -"S-s-sh--Not so loud, Norah," grandmother whispered, in rebuke, and -trotted her feet a little harder. - -"Let Rhoda see," father exclaimed. "Let Rhoda come quite close." - -I went up closer by grandmother's knee and looked at them. It was a new -experience, and for a moment I felt sorry for myself. Those about me -must have shared the feeling, for their eyes grew kinder, and father -patted my back, and Norah muttered under her breath. - -"Sure it's a come down in the world," I heard her say, pityingly. - -Then, suddenly, those two little creatures half opened their eyes, and -gazed at me. They smiled at me! They knew that I was their big sister! -Oh, the wonder of the two little heads on the pillow, the mystery of the -eyes that looked at me so placidly, with that smile of kinship in their -depths! I forgot the bird, I forgot my jealousy. I was ready to give -them anything, anything, even the woolly dog and the yellow basket with -the red handle, for the simple honor of their acquaintanceship. They -were so young, and they were so weak! They could not walk, and they -could not talk. They had everything to learn. I felt very old beside -them, although I did not know that in that first moment when grandmother -turned the covering down I had become the eldest child. - -"Oh, grandma," I cried, radiantly, "you may have one, but the other one -shall belong all to me!" - -There was a movement in the bed, and some one called to me. I ran into -the darkness and found my mother. There on the pillow beside her pretty -dark hair she made a place for me, where we could see each other's eyes. -Her arm was about me in a protecting way, as if she knew how hard the -world had become for me. - -"Rhoda," she said, with that smile which always seemed so wise, -"mother's heart is a big, big place! There is room in it both for dear -little Rhoda and the dear little babies." - -I felt that I was content. - - - - -II - -LILY-ANN - - -"THIS is Lily-Ann, Rhoda," my mother said, in an introductory tone. "She -is to be your little nurse, and play with you. Do you know many nice -games, Lily-Ann?" - -From the shelter of my mother's chair I stared at the new-comer. I -almost thought at first that it might be a little girl, until I noticed -the shining folds of white apron. Lily-Ann was all white apron, down to -the tops of her large, patched shoes. She was fourteen years old, -perhaps, with the dignity of forty. She had a wide, smiling face, and -appeared to be very agreeable in manner, so when she put out her hand I -slipped mine cordially into it. - -"I can play at wild beasts, and puss-in-the-corner, and 'ride a cock -horse to Banbury Cross,'" she told my mother over my head. "I am -experienced. I have helped to raise three children, ma'am." - -She looked so small as she ended in this impressive fashion that my -mother laughed, and my grandmother gleamed responsively through her -glasses. - -"It must be only quiet games, mind," my mother said. "You mustn't teach -Miss Rhoda to be noisy." - -Lily-Ann promised to observe this caution faithfully, and I suppose she -thought that they were only quiet games which we played that morning. We -had all three,--Banbury Cross, then puss-in-the-corner, and, finally, -wild beasts. Lily-Ann crawled under the bed and roared at me, now like a -tiger, now plaintively, like a big pussy cat, and again with a deeper -note that carried menace in its tone. - -"That's a lion," she explained, in between great volumes of sound. -"Lions eat people all up. So do wolves. Now I'm a wolf. Hear me crunch -their bones!" - -There was a horrible snarl under the bed, and something white and -shining made a snatch at my foot, and then retreated, to return the next -moment in a panting rush, much too real to be pleasant. - -"Oh, please, Lily-Ann, I don't want to play wild beasts any more!" I -exclaimed, half afraid; but only half afraid, for she was very obedient -to my whims, and, when I cried loud enough, came out in a crushed state -to be a little girl again. - -At first I liked Lily-Ann. She was so companionable, and then she knew -such quantities of strange things. For instance, it was she who showed -me how to make my hair curl. It could be done by eating crusts! There -had always been a great deal of trouble about my crusts. I would never -eat them, not even after I had been reminded of all the poor children in -the world who had not a crust apiece to stay their hunger on, and whom -it seemed that I should benefit in some marvelous way by eating mine. - -"They can have these," I replied, generously, to such appeals to my -feelings. "I'll save them for them every day." - -That, however, was before Lily-Ann came, and I learned that a crusty -diet was warranted to make the hair curl. To think that little Rhoda -Harcourt might have curly hair! What a nice thing that would be! Of -course it meant months of work, but Lily-Ann, whose hair twisted from -the roots, must surely know. Under her encouragement I ate all my own -crusts, and begged so earnestly for more at the table that I became a -wonder to the family. - -"Is the curl coming, Lily-Ann?" I would ask, eagerly, in the mornings -when she stood over me, comb in hand. - -"It's coming more and more every day," she asserted, to my great -satisfaction. - -"Ouch! How you do hurt, Lily-Ann!" - -"That's because it's so curly. See that long, beautiful one. I can't -hardly get my comb through!" - -I sighed blissfully with my eyes full of tears, and wondered when my -mother would notice the change in her little girl, for, indeed, -something must have happened to my hair, judging from the jerks. - -It was Lily-Ann again who taught me how to catch sparrows by throwing -salt on their tails. I ran about very hot and eager all one morning, and -ended by feeling rather foolish, for not a bird would be caught, though -I crept persistently on their track, always sure that the next time I -should be successful. Still, I did not bear any grudge against Lily-Ann. -It was not her fault that I was unfortunate, and then, too, she was very -sympathetic. - -"Why, my cousin caught one only yesterday!" she cried, in astonishment. -"But then she is older than you are. And so smart! She turned a -horsehair into a snake once. Did you ever do that, ma'am?" - -"No," I answered, doubtfully; and immediately added, with growing -enthusiasm, "oh, I should so like to do that!" - -The end of it was that a faint suspicion which had crept upon me after -the sparrow episode was quenched in the zeal with which I set myself to -the awful task of raising snakes by the wholesale. There was always a -touch of dread in the eagerness with which I visited the snake -incubator,--a rusty pan half-filled with water, and hidden in a secret -space behind the lilac bush. Little by little the horror of the -situation so overcame me that I hurriedly weeded the horsehairs out; but -the six that remained were the finest and longest which I could find, -destined, I could easily expect from their size, to become -boa-constrictors. - -I believed everything that Lily-Ann told me. Up to that time there had -never been occasion for me to question any one's truth, nor had there -been anything of which to be afraid. Now I learned of a new world that -lay about me,--the Land of the Dark,--in which familiar furniture played -wild pranks, and shadows came to have a very terrible meaning. - -"After you go to bed at night," Lily-Ann said, impressively, holding up -a fat forefinger, "there are Things that come out and run all about the -floor! Under the chairs and under the bed they creep around. Especially -under the bed. If you should let your hand hang down, a Thing would take -it and shake it!" - -I peered at her from out the shelter of the bed-clothes, for I was in -bed when this was first related, and she was sitting by me until I -should go to sleep. - -"I shall never do that, Lily-Ann," I said, faintly, gluing my arms -closer to my sides. - -"You might in your sleep," she returned, with grim significance. - -"And that ain't all," she went on, after a short but terrible pause. -"There's a Bear in the garret. He wants something." - -"What does he want?" I asked, fearfully, determined to know the worst at -once. - -"He wants a bad child. He's hungry!" - -Now I was bad, as I had just reason to know. Lily-Ann used to examine my -record every night, and she was the greatest one that I have ever seen -for pointing out flaws in character. - -"I don't think I've been _very_ bad to-day, Lily-Ann," I said, -trembling. - -"You took your little brother's ball," she answered, shortly. - -"But I gave it back to him!" I cried, aghast. - -"You slapped your little sister." - -"But she slapped me, too!" I pleaded. - -"Not until after you slapped her. And you are six years old." - -That was one of the unkindest things about Lily-Ann; she was always -trying to make me live up to my station. And it was so hard to be good, -and hardest of all to be good enough for my great age. That night, -however, I made a compact with her. - -"Dear Lily-Ann," I said, piteously, "if I go right to sleep by myself, -so you can get your supper, will you chase away the Things and tell the -Bear that there is no bad child in this house?" - -I was not prone to criticise my elders and betters; but somehow I had -remarked that Lily-Ann was fond of her supper. - -She went away without much urging, and I lay there miserably in the -dark. It seemed to me that there was a stir all through the quiet room, -and out in the hall the garret door creaked in a new manner. The dark -was so much blacker than it had ever been before, and even when I went -down head and all under the covers I could hear the Things pattering -about the floor, and the Bear rattling at the knob. Many a night after -that I huddled myself up into a heap, afraid to sleep lest my hands -should unclasp and slip out of bed, afraid to move lest the Bear on the -prowl for bad children should pounce on me and eat me up, sins and all. -I used to pretend to sleep very loudly and heavily that he might think -me a good child. Still, I felt that it must be hard to deceive a Bear, -and that sooner or later he would make an end of me. As for the Things, -I never had any hope of getting the better of them. All through the long -nights they slipped and slid about, or stood waiting at the edge of the -bed to shake hands, with a friendliness that was truly awful. - -Even in my greatest fear, however, I never betrayed Lily-Ann. I was too -much in her power to dare to tell tales about her. I used to marvel when -the family commented on her faithfulness, or devised schemes for -improving the home from which she had come. Many large bundles went out -of our house, and I often heard my mother speaking in a sympathetic -fashion of the little girl whose childhood was passed in the service of -others. - -"Poor Lily-Ann, she's never had any childhood of her own," she would -say, regretfully. - -Out in the kitchen, too, I had heard our Norah exchanging confidences on -the subject with her cousin, who came in sometimes, when there was -company, to help with the work. - -"I give her all the cold things to take home every night," Norah -confided. "The praties and bits of mate; just anything. They are that -starving that they are not particular. Every smithereen of clothes that -she has the mistress gave her, and the old lady has been open-handed, -too. There's many a ten-dollar bill finds its way to that house." - -The cousin sniffed. - -"The rest of us have to work for our own," she said. "Faith, it's fine -to be reckless sometimes." - -"But I'm not trusting her," Norah continued, darkly. "She tells lies. -And she's cross to my child!" - -"Who is your child, Norah?" I asked, with sudden eagerness, pressing up -close to her gingham apron. - -Norah lifted me upon her capacious lap and patted my back. - -"And it's herself that wants to know," she cried, with a rallying laugh. -"See that now! Ain't she growing a big girl, Bridget? See the praties in -her cheeks! Sure, she's purty enough to be Irish." - -"But who is your child, Norah?" I persisted, jealously; and it was only -when a burst of laughter broke from the two women that I understood, and -hid my face in the concealing folds of the gingham apron. - -I was very good to Lily-Ann after this time. Not that I had ever been -bad to her before; but now I began to join in the work of charity. I -made her a present of the little gold locket which my grandmother -Lawrence gave me on my last birthday, and of my second-best pair of -shoes, which had been red once, and still retained a delightful color. I -wanted to give her my Sunday cloak, also, but she reminded me that there -were other Sundays yet to come. She did take my bank with its one -jingling gold coin in it. Unfortunately, all the money of less value had -been pried out long ago to buy candy, but I told Lily-Ann how sorry I -was that the little red house was not filled to the chimney with -pennies. I promised that I would give her all my money in the future to -take home to her family, so that they might never be hungry again. -Lily-Ann heard me in silence. She did not thank me with her lips, but -when the Things grew too rampant at night she would reprove them -sometimes in a stern manner. - -"Go away!" she would cry, stamping her foot energetically. "Rhoda is a -good child." - -The Things and the Bear all grunted with the same voice as they -retreated in discontent to their lairs; but I was not critical. It was -enough for me that they went, if only for a time. Always I remembered -that Lily-Ann could summon them at will, and her importance grew greater -day by day. - -There were hours, however, when I escaped into the safety of my mother's -room. I was not too small to understand the delights of that cheerful -room,--the glittering objects on the dressing-table, the deep bureau -drawers filled with wonders much too dainty for a child to touch. There -were keepsakes, also, mementos of my mother's childhood and youth; prize -books in foreign tongues, won at school and laid away in tissue paper; -bits of costly lace, and many little worthless, well-beloved -possessions. In the closet there was a box on an upper shelf. Quite an -ordinary box it was on the outside, made of pasteboard and tied with -bands of yellow ribbon which had once been white. My mother lifted the -cover one day, and showed me what was inside. It was the most wonderful -thing, and it had come off her wedding-cake. There was a white platform -surrounded with a wreath of white roses and leaves, and in the center of -the platform there stood under a wreathed arch two little dolls, arm in -arm. - -"They are going to be married," my mother said. "They came off the top -of my cake when I was married." - -"Oh, isn't it too sweet for anything!" I cried, in an ecstasy. "But, -mother, why does the lady doll wear a veil?" - -"All brides do. You shall, too, some day." - -"Shall I?" I questioned, doubtfully. "But, mother, dear, suppose I -should grow up, and never get married, won't you give me these little -dolls to play with?" - -"If that should happen I suppose I must," my mother said, with a laugh, -and tied the box up tightly again, and put it back on the upper shelf. - -I dreamed about that box. I talked of it to Lily-Ann, and described the -enchanting veil at great length; and I even condescended to tell the -twins about the dolls that mother had. Once, with great pain from the -acute rasping of my knees, I climbed up the closet shelves, and peeked -in a loose corner of the box. Then I came down again, perfectly -satisfied, for the dolls were still there, and if I escaped marriage -they were to be my own. I determined that I would never marry. It would -be at too great a cost. - -Soon after this there came a day when everything seemed to go wrong. -Lily-Ann was very cross, while my mother looked sad and even frightened. -She went up and down stairs many times. She watched me furtively, and -asked whispered questions of Lily-Ann. I wondered what Lily-Ann could -possibly be telling her. I knew that it was not about me, for I had been -very good that afternoon. To be sure, I had pulled the cat's tail; but -she and I had kissed each other affectionately afterwards, and were -friends again. Nor was Lily-Ann apt to reveal my misdeeds. She liked to -judge me herself in that dread hour when the dark brought repentance. -Still, as the questions went on and on, I was sure that I heard my name, -not once but many times, now from Lily-Ann, and now from my mother, with -a gasp of dismay. - -Then my mother took me in her arms and kissed me, and rocked me as if I -were a baby again, and in the middle of it all made me a little -confidence. - -"Rhoda, mother always meant to give you those little dolls," she said. - -"Oh, did you, mother!" I cried, eagerly. - -"But giving is different from taking. Do you know what it means to steal -a thing, Rhoda?" - -I nodded solemnly. - -"'Thou shalt not steal,' you know the Bible says." - -"Yes, mother." - -"Did you climb up into my closet one day?" - -I hung my head. - -"Rhoda, when you knew that you had only to ask for mother to give them -to you, why did you take away my little dolls?" - -"But I did not take them," I cried, in surprise. "I only looked at -them. Was I very bad, mother?" - -"You didn't take them? Think what you are saying, Rhoda." - -"I did not take them," I protested, breaking into tears, for though I -was bad, I knew that I was not that bad. - -I could see that she did not believe me. She sighed in a way that I had -never heard my mother sigh before, and set me down on the floor beside -her. Then she took me by the hand, and we made a very solemn pilgrimage -up the stairs, and through her room into the one which was my own, -straight up into the corner where my doll-house stood. She opened the -little door, and motioned me to look in. The bride and groom were -leaning stiffly side by side against the sofa in the parlor! They stared -back at me with scorn on their sugar faces, and there was, also, -something accusing in their expression, as if they were saying, "Little -girl, how do we come here?" Still I would not confess. I had not taken -them. I had wanted them very much, but now I did not want them at all. I -should have liked to smash their sugar heads, for it was their fault. -They had done it themselves, stepping down from their high shelf in the -middle of the night. They were tired of living tied up in a box, and -wanted my doll-house to set up housekeeping in. They had done it -themselves just to plague me. There was no other way to explain it. - -"What does she say?" grandmother asked, creeping in behind us. - -"Not the truth!" my mother cried. "I should never have suspected my -child of lying and stealing! But Lily-Ann says it is not the first -time!" - -I stood and looked at them. It almost seemed as if I did not love them -any more. They knew me so little that they thought I could steal those -sugar dolls. - -"Grandma, put her to bed for me," my mother said, still with that -frightened look on her face. "I don't know what to say to her. I must -ask her father." - -Grandmother put me to bed, with slow, patient fingers. She tucked me in, -and kissed me in quite a tender way. - -"Tell grandma," she urged, in a whisper, bending down until her -spectacles touched my hot cheek. - -But still I would not confess. - -It was very quiet in my little room after she had gone. I could hear the -dishes rattling down-stairs, as Norah set the table with a bang of the -plates and a thump of the knives. We were going to have honey for supper -and little cakes with frosted tops baked in scolloped patty-pans. I -wondered whether I should have any supper, or must lie there in the -dark, while they talked about me at the supper-table. I did not think -that _I_ could enjoy frosted cake baked in scolloped patty-pans if _my_ -little girl were alone up-stairs in the dark. When I grew up and -married, for I might as well marry now, I would never treat any one so. -Never! Never!! Never!!! - -"Oh, please, God, let me hurry and grow up," I whispered to the -darkness. "And, oh, please, God, let me have frosted cake for my -supper!" - -I waited for the prayer to bear fruit. Sometimes prayers were rather -slow. I heard my father come home with a cheerful rustle of parcels. He -hung up his coat and hat in the hall, and tiptoed upstairs to wash his -hands. He knew that the twins were asleep in their cribs; but he did not -know that I was beyond in the darkness, afraid to speak to him. He did -not miss me, although I was always the first to welcome him at the door. -Nobody seemed to miss me. I heard them draw up their chairs to the -table. Now they were eating honey. Now they were eating frosted cake. -Lily-Ann would have some of the cake. They believed in her. It was only -their own little girl whom they sent to bed without her supper. It was -only Rhoda whom nobody loved. If God would let me grow up quick, I would -go away and not be a trouble to them any more. Perhaps off in the -country I might find somebody who would love me, and believe in me, for -I did not want to be loved unless I was believed in. I should be very -lonely at first, nearly as lonely as I was now. A sore place came in my -throat that made me cry because it hurt so. - -The kitchen door opened in the distance, and a whirlwind swept into the -dining-room. There was a pause, punctuated by loud remarks delivered in -a high Irish voice, and then the whirlwind came up the stairs, and -swept me out of my bed. It was Norah. I clung to her, for she was the -only thing which I had left to love in the whole world. My father and -mother had deserted me, but Norah was staunch. She kissed me as she -carried me, big girl as I was, straight down the steps into the dazzling -light of the supper-table. Norah was excited. She had a red spot on each -cheek, and her eyes shone like stars. She held me tightly with one arm -and gesticulated with the other. Against the white panel of the kitchen -door Lily-Ann was crouched in a timid, frightened fashion, with all the -spirit gone out of her wide face, and almost the very curl gone out of -her hair. - -"She had them dolls yisterday," Norah cried, accusingly, her finger -pointed straight at the kitchen door. "I saw them in her box. Sure, I -thought that the mistress gave them to her, and it's not for the likes -of me to say what the mistress shall give or not give. Then this morning -when there was questions asked, she crept upstairs and put them in the -doll-house. The sarpent! Is my child to lie in the dark crying her heart -out, and that sarpent set at my kitchen-table drinking her tay, and -telling me wicked tales of my child?" - -Nobody answered her. They stared at her in bewilderment. Norah had never -acted like that before. - -"If there was questions to be asked, why wasn't I asked?" she went on, -angrily. "If the mistress or the master had said to me, 'Norah, where's -them little dolls?' I would have told them the truth. I would have said, -'Lily-Ann stole them yisterday, ma'am, and to-day she put them in the -doll-house, sur.' But, no, they don't ask honest old Norah. They listen -to that sarpent backbiting my child. The little innocent creatur! The -dear little old-fashioned thing that niver took nought from nobody!" - -I put my arms around Norah's neck, and hugged her until I nearly -strangled her. - -"Give Rhoda to me, Norah," my mother said, jealously. - -"There's only one thing more to be said, ma'am," Norah continued, -obstinately standing her ground, still with my arms about her neck. -"Either old Norah goes or that sarpent goes. I'll have no sarpents in my -kitchen." - -They were all looking at Lily-Ann now. There was a ring of truth about -Norah's story which had convinced them at last. - -"Have you anything to say, Lily-Ann?" my father asked, sternly. - -She had nothing to say. As she drooped a little closer to the door and -wiped her eyes in a miserable fashion, I felt that I could forgive her -all the harm which she had done me. Poor Lily-Ann, who my mother said -had never been a child! - -"Oh, please, Norah, let Lily-Ann stay!" I cried, piteously. "I'll be so -good if you'll let Lily-Ann stay!" - -Norah might, perhaps, have been softened by my appeal, but my father -would not listen. The words which he used were very stern ones, and his -was the hand that held open the door for Lily-Ann to pass out of the -house. She went slowly, almost regretfully, as though at the last she -felt repentance. I never saw her again. - -It was many a long year, however, before I cast off her evil spell. Even -in the illnesses of my maturer years those crawling Things have come -back, passing across the mirror of a pain-racked mind with all the -horror of childish ignorance and fear. Yet I still feel that I have -forgiven Lily-Ann. Coming from the home that she did, and unwatched and -unsuspected as she was, she might easily have destroyed the holy -innocence of a child's life. But she left me as she found me. - -I went upstairs very quietly that night. There was a candle burning on -the bedroom table, and something which my prayer had brought, something -frosted, with scolloped edges, was tucked under my pillow. The whole -family came to put me to bed, and made so much of me that I glowed under -their affection. - -"She will forget it all in time," my father said, tenderly, unwitting of -my long memory. "Evil dies away quickly from a child's mind." - -My mother was more impulsive. She went down on her knees and put her -arms about me. - -"Forgive mother," she whispered, with her mouth against my ear. "Mother -knows how true you are, Rhoda!" - -After all there was really something for which to thank Lily-Ann. - - - - -III - -THE OLD MAJOR - - -ABOUT our house there was a garden, with round beds of blooming plants, -and a shady apple-tree or two to break the glare of the summer sun. In -one corner the hollyhocks grew, and along the path to the gate purple -flags appeared each spring in uneven rows, like isolated bands of -soldiers marching on a common enemy. There were dandelions in the grass, -and a lilac bush near the front door. Here I used to play, in a bright -pink sun-bonnet, and little black slippers which buttoned with a band -about my ankle. Secretly I considered myself rather beautiful, and as -for my conquests, they stretched down the street and around the block. -There was the grocer's boy, and the elderly lady from over the way, who -wore one kind of hair in the morning and another kind in the afternoon, -and ordinary strangers passing through the town, and, last of all, but -first in my estimation, the old major. - -Every day at the same hour he passed the house, leaning on a cane. When -the sun was bright he stepped along quickly, with an alert carriage of -the head; but there were cloudy days when his step was slow and feeble, -and even his smile lost some of its usual charm. - -"Hello, little girl," he said, in a ponderous fashion, the first time -that he saw me perched on the gate. "Hello! Hello! Hello!" - -The hellos reached a long distance, and grew very gruff at the end, but -there was a twinkle in his eye, and he had a beautiful bright star on -his watch-chain, with which I longed to play. - -I gravely put out a small hand to him. - -"My name is Rhoda," I said, in a burst of confidence. "I live here in -this house. I was six years old yesterday." - -"Were you!" he replied, evidently much impressed. "That's very old, very -old." - -He went on slowly down the block, but when he turned on his way back, he -stopped again at the gate to discuss my age. - -"Six, was it?" he questioned. "Well! Well! Perhaps you can tell me what -time it is." - -I shook my head, with a fascinated look at the gleaming star. - -"I haven't a watch." - -"But you don't need a watch," he answered. "See here." - -He stooped down, painfully, grasping the fence for support, and picked -the snowy seed-ball of a dandelion plant. Then he straightened up, -slowly, and blew at the feathery toy. - -"One, two, three, four, five! Five o'clock. Time for the old major to go -in out of the damp." - -Then he turned away from me, and went on up the street, his cane digging -little holes in the path, and he himself forgetting all about the child -whom he had left still perched on her gate. I had not entirely passed -from his memory, however, for when he came to his own gate far in the -distance, he took off his hat, and gallantly waved it to me before he -went in out of the damp. - -"Mother, I love the old major!" I said one day. - -"What major?" my mother asked, looking up from her work with a smile. - -She was making small ruffled skirts and aprons with pockets. She could -make the most beautiful things, all out of her own head. - -"What major? Why, my major. Mother, has the old major any little girls -or boys that I could play with? Oh, I should so like to play with his -little girls and boys!" - -"Major Daniel Clark hasn't any little girls or boys. He lost them all, -dear. He is a very lonely man." - -"Didn't he ever find them again, mother?" - -"No, dear. Never again." - -Now, I was very good at finding things. I found grandmother's spectacles -ten times a day, even when they were only lost in her soft, white hair. -And once I found mother's thimble when little brother Dick had it in his -mouth, and it was just going down red lane. Norah said that I had a pair -of bright eyes, and my very father, when he wanted his slippers, could -think of no one so trustworthy to send as I. To find little girls and -boys would be quite easy, for they were much larger things. I had only -to ask all the girls and boys who came past my gate if they belonged to -the major, and, when the right ones came, we would run hand-in-hand up -to that distant door and go in. He would be so pleased, and never lonely -again. And, perhaps--Just suppose that he would be my friend forever and -ever! - -I was waiting on my gate the next day when he came by. - -"Oh, Major!" I cried, excitedly, nodding my head at him, "I'm going to -find your little girls and boys for you!" - -"My little girls and boys?" he asked, perplexed. - -"Yes. The ones that you lost so long ago." - -He turned quite suddenly on his way, so quickly that I thought that he -was angry, but when he came back he stopped at the gate again. He took -my face softly between his hands, and looked down deep into my eyes, -into the little circles where there were pictures. - -"When you grow up, always remember that the old major loved you," he -said, hurriedly, and then went back toward the house from which he had -come out so shortly before. - -We were great friends after that. We held long conversations over the -gate, about my dolls, and the hobby-horse which had lately come to live -in the hall. We discussed the best way to raise children, and how -convenient it would be if aprons could only be made to button in front. -We both had original ideas on things, and often differed, but none of my -new clothes ever seemed quite real to me until the major had admired -them, and pinched my cheeks with that air of gallantry which showed -that I was a woman. He brought me presents, very wonderful things; -bright pebbles which he picked up on the street, willow whistles, and a -tiny basket carved from a peach-stone, which I hung on a ribbon about my -neck. I gave him flowers, and once, when no one was looking, I let him -kiss me in the shadow of the pink sunbonnet. - -If the major and I met thus on the sunny days, when it rained there came -a blank in my life. Then he could not go out at all, but must stay shut -up in his house until the weather cleared again. There was something the -matter with the major which made this necessary. In some unaccountable -way he was different from other people, and to be different from other -people was sad, and was, moreover, a thing which never happened in our -family. - -Now, grandmother had a little red brick house that stood on her -mantel-piece which aided me a great deal in the stormy times. A little -man and woman lived in this house who were never of the same mind, and -carried their lack of sympathy to such an alarming extent that they used -separate doors, and, as far as I could see, had never met in the course -of their lives. For as sure as the man with the umbrella came out of one -door, the little lady with the roses in her bonnet gathered up her -skirts, and scurried in as if she were afraid to meet him. With her went -the sunshine and the blue look to the sky, and the rain came down heavy -and fast. But if the old man went into his house, the old lady sprang -out, with a smile on her face, the rain stopped falling, and the sun -came out. Then, by and by, the major would walk down the street, and -stop to chat awhile. - -I used to run into grandmother's room every morning to look at that -house. - -"Grandma," I cried, eagerly, "has the little lady come out to-day?" - -Then I took my stand soberly in front of the mantelpiece and regarded -the two figures with much attention. - -"Grandma," I said once, "do you think that they can be relations?" - -Grandmother took up a stitch in her knitting without replying. - -"Because, if they are," I went on, indignantly, "I think that they ought -to be ashamed!" - -"Ashamed of what, Rhoda?" - -"Why, of the way that they act. They don't even look at each other! And, -grandma, I think that he's the worst. He goes in with such a click when -she comes out. He's so afraid that she'll say something to him." - -Grandmother looked up over her spectacles. - -"Now that I come to think of it," she said, "they've acted that way for -forty years." - -"I wonder why he don't like her?" I went on, musingly. "Is it because -she's got flowers in her bonnet, and he hasn't? Look, grandma, she's -coming out very quietly. She's going to catch him this time. Oh, he's -gone in with a click! And he never said a word!" - -"We'll have fair weather now, Rhoda." - -"And my major will come out, grandma." - -"He's my major!" little Dick cried. - -"He's my major!" Beatrice asserted. - -"No such thing!" I said, turning on them angrily. "He belongs all to me. -Don't he, grandma?" - -Grandmother did not answer, but I knew that he did. When the twins came, -hand-in-hand, down the path to see him, he would pat their fat arms -through the spokes of the gate, but it was always I to whom he wished -to talk, for I was more of his own age and not a baby like them. - -"Baby yourself!" Dick said, when I mentioned this, and slapped me, but -it made no difference. - -Sometimes the lady from across the way would come over to walk with the -major. They were old friends, and had a great deal to talk about. I -remember seeing her shake her finger at him when she found him leaning -on my gate. - -"So you're trying to turn another woman's head!" she cried, gayly. - -He wheeled upon her with that sudden straightening of his shoulders that -would come so unexpectedly. - -"Did I ever turn yours, Kitty?" he asked, with a mischievous smile. - -"Dozens of times," she cried. "Dozens of times!" - -Then she took his arm, and they went up and down in the bright -sunshine, up and down, while the major would thump his cane upon the -ground with that gruff laugh that always seemed merrier than other -people's. His white hair was smoothly brushed, and his black hat was set -on jauntily, and his kind eyes shone as if he were young again. I -noticed that the lady from over the way always wore a black silk dress -and her best, curly, brown hair whenever she came to walk with the -major, and, also, a battered silver bracelet which looked as if it had -been chewed. The major would glance at it and laugh. - -"I took castor-oil to buy that bracelet," he said once, with his -twinkle. - -It sounded funny, but I knew just what he meant. I had made dollars and -dollars myself taking castor-oil, except that time when Auntie May mixed -it so cunningly with lemonade that it went down and down to the very -dregs, and I never discovered until then how I had been cheated out of -my just dues. - -"So that was it!" the lady from over the way exclaimed, patting the -bracelet. "I always knew that there was something curious about it." - -"It was harder than leading a regiment into action," the major answered, -soberly, and then broke into a gleeful laugh. "I wouldn't do it for you -now!" he cried. - -First she threatened him with the bracelet. Then she took his arm again, -and they went on in the sunshine, talking of all the many people whom -they had known in their lives. Her touch on his arm was very light, -guiding, and sustaining, rather than dependent, but the old major -thought that she leant upon him. - -I was not jealous of the lady from over the way. I felt that we shared -the major between us, and then it was always at my gate that he stopped -first. It was here that he told me about a trip that he was intending to -make. - -"I'm going off to the city for a week," he said. - -"Are you, Major?" I questioned, sorrowfully, for a week had seven days -in it, and even a day was a long, long time. No wonder that my eyes were -full of tears. - -"There, there," he said. "Bear it like a woman." - -I was not a woman, but sometimes the major used to forget. I thought -that it was because I looked so tall when I stood on my gate. - -He put out his kind old hand and smoothed my hair. - -"What shall I bring you from the city?" he asked. "A new doll? What -would you like best of all, Rhoda?" - -I considered the question. There were so many things that the major -might bring from the city. There were little doll-babies, or -picture-books, or cups and saucers, or hooples with bells. Then I had an -inspiration. I leaned forward in a glow of excitement. - -[Illustration] - -"I should like--Oh, Major! Will you really give it to me? I should like -the littlest watch in the world. With a star! With a star, just like -yours!" - -"You shall have it," he answered, promptly, as if there was nothing -unusual in such a grand request. "Now, remember, if all goes well, I'll -be at the gate a week from to-day. And I'll have that watch right here -in my pocket." - -"And I'll bring flowers!" I cried, joyfully. "All the flowers that you -love best, Major." - -"Good-by," he said, with a sudden touch of emotion. - -"Good-by," I answered, rather tearfully, for even the watch could not -reconcile me to his absence. - -He turned to go, and came back again. - -"Pray for the old major," he said, in a husky whisper. - -Through my tears I saw him go up the block, a little slower than usual, -as if he did not want to go. At the gate he stopped and waved his hat to -me, as he had done on that first day, and squared his gallant old -shoulders before he passed into the house. I always wished that I had -kissed him before he went. - -It was not hard to pray for the major, for I believed in the efficacy of -prayer. When the elastic bands became loosened in the black doll, Topsy, -and she lost her wool and her legs at the same time, I went down, -solemnly, on my knees on the floor, and prayed for them to grow together -again. And they did, in the night. And when I lost my little front -tooth, I prayed to God and He sent me a new one! So it was not hard to -pray for the major. But somehow or other I did not like to do it before -my mother. It seemed such a secret sort of a prayer. I waited until I -was safe under the covers, and she had taken away the light. Then I -climbed out of the bed, in the big darkness, and went down on the floor. -I prayed to God to bless the old major, and bring him back safely to me. -I said it over twice, so that God would not forget. - -"So the old major has gone to the city," my father said, at the -breakfast table. "I can remember him when he was in the pride of his -strength, a magnificent figure on horseback. He never rose as high in -the service as he should. He made powerful enemies and slipped into the -background." - -"It's twenty years since his wife died," my mother's soft voice added. -"He has lived alone in that big house ever since. Think of it, Robert!" - -"Such is the heart's fidelity," father answered, with his face turned -toward hers. - -"When he comes back we must make more of him," mother said. - -It was a very long week, but even long weeks have a way of slipping by -at last. I played about the house and the garden with the twins, but I -never went near the gate, not until the day dawned which was seven times -from last Friday, and was Friday again, bright and clear, the very day -for the major's home-coming. There were so many flowers in the garden -that morning, such especially large ones. They knew, too, that the major -was coming home, and had put on their prettiest dresses in his honor. - -It was quite a puzzle to me what I should put on. I had a closet full -of dresses. There was a beautiful blue silk one, too good for anything -but church, which matched a little blue parasol. And there was a lovely -white one with a lace flounce, which went with my scolloped petticoat. -My third best dress had roses and buttons on it, and the fourth best was -covered with brown spots, like cough drops. I loved my little dresses, -and it was so hard to tell which dress should come out, and which must -stay shut up in the closet, with nobody to admire them. - -"Shall it be the cough drop dress, mother?" I asked, uncertainly. - -"It's such a wonderful day, and the sun shines so bright, that I think -you might put on the white dress with the lace flounce," my mother said, -with that smile which meant that she was laughing with me, and not at -me. - -"And my little black slippers?" - -"And your little black slippers." - -"And, mother, you remember the time that I was your little flower girl? -And you put roses in my hair so it looked like a crown? I'd like to be -the major's little flower girl." - -My mother lent herself to the pretty idea. She crowned my head with -roses. There were roses at my throat, and a big, floating, pink sash -swept down my back, and there were roses in my hand for the major, one -bunch to give him with a kiss when he came, and another to give him with -my love when he went. - -Grandmother shook her wise head when she saw that toilet. - -"If she were my child," she said, "I should dress her in brown gingham -down to her heels, and tie her hair with shoe-laces." - -I gasped, and mother laughed. - -"She's vain," grandmother went on, severely. "Suppose she should grow up -a poppet!" - -I carried that awful name out with me as I climbed upon the gate, and -stared out, bashfully, at the street. I was afraid to think how -beautiful I might be. - -The grocer's boy came by, my own particular grocer's boy. Stricken with -sudden admiration for my charms he put down his basket, and expressed -his sentiments. - -"Say, you are a daisy!" he said. - -"Go away, Jakie," I answered, with embarrassment. "I haven't time to -play with you now. Go away! I'm busy." - -He was quite crushed by my new haughtiness, and lingered about, thinking -that I would relent, but all my smiles and flowers were waiting for that -bent figure which I loved so well. - -An hour slipped by, but still the major did not come. My crown grew -heavy on my head, and the flowers wilted in my hot hands. The lady from -over the way came to ask me questions. She had on her ugliest hair, and -there were tears in her eyes. - -"What are you doing, Rhoda?" she asked, with an anxious look. - -Then she seemed to divine. - -"You are not watching for the major!" she exclaimed. - -"Yes," I answered, wearily. - -"Doesn't your mother know, child?" she cried. "But, then, he never told -any one. They found that there must be an operation, and he was not -strong. There was no one whom he loved there at the end. He died, as he -lived, all alone. Oh, poor old man! Poor old man! Let me go by, child! -Let me go by!" - -She thrust herself in the little gate, wheeling me back against the -fence, and went up the path to our house. - -Then, in hardly a moment, Norah came out and led me in, and proceeded to -take off all my pretty things and put on a common dress, quite an old -one, with a darn on the sleeve. - -"I don't want that dress, Norah," I protested. "I want my white dress. I -want to see my major. I want to be his little flower girl." - -I went in where my mother sat with the lady from over the way, and -explained the situation through my tears. Mother was very tender with -me. Somehow I felt that she herself was sorry about something, for she -dropped a tear on the wilted roses which I still held in my hand. -Together we went out into the garden. Together we gathered all the -flowers that there were--the big ones and the little ones--and formed -them into a great bunch. It was for the major. I danced with sheer -delight, knowing only too well how the kind face would light up when he -saw all the flowers which he had admired so often made a present to him. -I added buttercups, and dandelions, and bits of feathery grass, while -mother watched me, with a sad smile, and said never a word. - -The lady from over the way cried very hard on our front steps, but -afterwards she dried her eyes and took my flowers to the major. - -He did not come the next day or the next, though I watched at the gate, -and then something strange happened. I was told not to go into the -garden. - -"Not this morning, Rhoda," my mother said. "Grandma and I are going out, -and you must stay in the house. When we come back you may go out." - -She dressed herself very quietly that day, all in dark things, and she -and grandmother did not look joyful, as they always did when they went -out together. - -"I'd like to go, too," I said, wistfully. - -Then Norah coaxed me. - -"Ah, stay and play with your Norah," she cried. "Sure you'll not be -after leaving your Norah alone in this big house!" - -I always liked to play with Norah, when her work was done and she had -time to be sociable. That day we played blindman's buff together--she, -and I and the twins. Norah was always the blind man, and she was the -longest time catching us, and when she did she could never tell who it -might be. She would guess quite impossible people,--the grocer's boy, -and the lady from over the way, and her own very mother in Ireland,--and -she never once, by any chance, thought that it was Rhoda or little Dick -or Trixie. - -"Sure, you're too big to be Trixie!" she cried, when we told her who it -was. - -That day, when the blind man was out of breath, and his feet were sore -from walking hundreds of miles, I climbed up on the window-sill and -watched the people going along the street. There were a great many of -them, much more than usual. Suddenly there was the sound of a fife and -drum in the distance, and a long line of carriages came into sight, and -one was filled with beautiful flowers, and one was draped with a torn -old flag. - -"Come quick, Norah!" I cried, eagerly. "It's a procession!" - -"It's the old major's funeral," Norah said, coming with the twins in her -arms to look over my shoulder. - -I had known, somehow, that it was the major's, for everything nice -belonged to him. I was so proud to think that my major should have all -that big procession, with the lovely flowers and the music in front. I -looked for him in every carriage, that I might wave as he went by. He -was not there, but other people were,--my mother and my grandmother, and -the lady from over the way, and men with gold braid on their coats come -to grace the major's procession. - -"Is it all his, Norah?" I asked. - -"Sure, dear." - -"I am so glad," I cried. "Oh, I'm so glad!" - -I clapped my hands in my delight, and was quite angry with Norah when -she dragged me, hurriedly, away from the window. - -That night my mother took me in her lap, and told me that the old major -had gone to heaven. I had heard of heaven before. It was where I came -from, and the twins, away back in the early days. Heaven was a nice -place, and now, as the major's home, it acquired a new charm. But there -was one drawback. - -"Shan't I ever see him again, mother?" I asked. - -"Never again, Rhoda." - -"But, mother, it's a children's place," I urged, anxiously. "And the -major is old, quite old. He won't like it there, mother." - -"The major has gone to heaven to be a little child again," my mother -said, with a sob. - -Then she put a blue velvet box in my hand. Inside there was the littlest -watch in the world, and on the back of the watch there was a star in -blue stones. It was the last thing which the old major bought before he -went to heaven. - - - - -IV - -THE FIRESIDE GOD - -A Christmas Dream that Came True - - -"ENGLAND is a long way off," grandmother said, softly. "Especially at -Christmas time." - -She was not talking to any one in particular, but just to herself. She -had been sitting for quite awhile by the parlor window reading her -Bible. Sometimes her eyes were fastened on the page, and sometimes when -a strange step came down the street, she would glance up hurriedly, -almost in an eager way, as if she were watching for some one. Then, when -she saw who it was, her eyes would drop again on the book in a -disappointed fashion. I knew what she would do next. Very slowly she -would turn the pages right to the middle of the Bible, where a picture -lay between the leaves. - -"Isn't that father, grandma?" I asked, anxiously, leaning against her -knee. - -"No, Rhoda," she said, in that decisive way of hers. - -I hung closer over the picture to make real sure. - -It looked so like father when he was a little boy that I thought she -must be mistaken. Yet somehow it was different. This little boy was -fairer. There was a curl of hair on the page, a light-brown curl with -red glints in it, and a tiny wreath made of pressed lilacs which once -upon a time he had joined together, flower by flower, out in our front -garden. I could almost see him doing it, while the wind blew through -those brown curls. - -"Oh, I do hope that he isn't grown up!" I cried, quickly. - -People had such an astonishing way of growing up fast. Why, even Joseph -in his pretty new coat in the Bible was not a little boy any longer! And -I had always so longed to play with Joseph. - -Grandmother did not tell me anything more about the picture. She took it -out of my hand, and put it back on the page beside the curl and the -faded lilac ring. Then she closed the book tightly; but when I ran into -the parlor five minutes later to announce a visitor the picture was out -again on her lap. - -"Evelyn is coming, grandma!" I cried. - -The tall young lady who followed me into the room was grandmother's -great friend, and, also, in a way she was mine. I loved her because she -was so beautiful; but grandmother loved her because they both liked a -man named Frank. He was engaged to Evelyn. I had heard my mother say -so. - -"Is there any news?" grandmother asked, eagerly. - -She had risen out of her chair and looked startled. - -Evelyn went up to her with a letter in her hand. - -"Frank is quite well," she said, "and very busy. Would you like to see -his letter?" - -Grandmother hesitated. She almost turned her back upon Evelyn. - -"No," she answered, slowly. "No. When he writes a letter to _me_, I will -read it. Not before." - -"Oh, you are hard on Frank," Evelyn protested. "How can he write to you? -Didn't you say you would have nothing more to do with him, unless he -gave up his profession?" - -"Profession! Has an actor a profession?" grandmother cried. "This is -the first time I ever heard it called by that name. I said he was to -choose between his mother and a child's mad whim, and he made his -choice." - -She picked up the picture and looked at it with tears in her eyes. - -"I could forgive him anything but acting," she said. "Sometimes I think -I could even forgive him that. I do so long to see him again." - -Evelyn slipped her arm about grandmother. - -"He will come back," she cried, consolingly. - -"Never," grandmother replied, with a despairing glance at the empty -street. "Don't I know him, Evelyn? Man and boy? He is as stubborn as I -am." - -"Would the little boy play with me, grandma, if he came back?" I asked, -excitedly. - -They both looked at me, but Evelyn was the only one who smiled. - -"Perhaps," she said. "He used to be very fond of you." - -After that I was always watching for the little boy. Every morning when -I got up I looked out of the window to see if he were not coming in our -gate. And the last thing before I went to bed, I looked out carefully -again. I thought that I should know him by his hair, and I felt how -lovely it would be if he would only come at Christmas time. Christmas -was not going to be so nice that year as usual. I did not think that I -should get anything. There were lots of presents in the house for other -children, even my little brother and sister, but somehow there did not -seem to be any for Rhoda! - -"Father," I said, one morning, "there's a very pretty book in your top -drawer. A child's book. I wonder whose it is?" - -He was quite busy reading his paper, but he answered me at once. - -"That's for a little friend of mine," he declared. "It's a secret." - -"Oh! Is she a good girl, father?" - -He glanced at me and laughed. - -"Sometimes she's awfully good," he answered. - -Then it was not for me. Nobody ever seemed to think that I was good, not -even when I was trying my best. It must be grand to be good! Just think -of being born that way, so that you could not help it, but went on -growing better and better until you died! There was a little girl down -the street like that. We played together on sunny days. I found it very -hard to play with any one who was so good. - -"And sometimes," my father went on, still with that smile in his eyes, -"sometimes she's so dreadfully bad that I'm really shocked!" - -"Oh!" I said again. - -I had seen my father shocked. When he was shocked, he always laughed -very hard. - -"Has it pictures, father?" I asked, meekly, trying to turn the subject. - -"No. My little friend doesn't care about pictures," he answered, -indifferently. - -Then it was not for me. I was very fond of pictures. Everybody knew -that. It did seem queer that in all the many packages which he brought -home, night after night,--round ones, and square ones, and even some -with mysterious humpy corners,--there should not be a single thing for -Rhoda! And Christmas was coming faster and faster. - -Evelyn, too, had all manner of pretty presents laid by for other little -girls, quite strange little girls, who did not love her at all so far as -I could see, but she never said a word about my present; not even one -day when she called me into her house and opened her parlor door. She -opened it very softly, as if there were company, and she put her finger -on her lip that I should not speak. - -There was company. Inside the room was filled with dolls! They sat in -rows on the sofa and on the piano, they lay in careless heaps on the -chairs and tables; blue-eyed dolls and black-eyed dolls, some that went -promptly to sleep when you laid them down, some in Japanese dresses, and -some that wore long clothes and caps like sure enough babies. We went -about solemnly, hand in hand, and looked at them all. They stared back -as if they wanted a mother, and one on the center-table, a queen of a -doll with earrings in her ears, held out her arms to come to me! - -"Whom do you think they're all for?" Evelyn asked, gayly. "Guess." - -I held her closer by the hand and gazed about me. _I_ was very fond of -dolls. I had never had enough. I believed that once or twice I had -mentioned the fact. I drew a long breath. Just suppose-- - -"They're for orphans," Evelyn cried, quickly. "You know what orphans -are, don't you, Rhoda? They are poor children who haven't any mothers or -fathers to buy them dolls! It's a very sad thing to be an orphan." - -I glanced about me again. The queen was very beautiful. - -"Will they be good to them?" I questioned, wistfully. - -I had heard of people whipping dolls! And once a little boy had drowned -a doll! His sister's! It was dreadful! - -"Oh, I'm sure this doll is going to be spoiled," Evelyn answered, with -her hand on the queen. - -I looked from her to the great doll with shy admiration. They both had -the same fair hair, and the same pink cheeks and the same gray eyes. -Their faces were just like flowers. - -"I think her name is Evelyn, too," I said. - -I had always thought that Evelyn liked me, but that day I was sure of -it. We had a long talk in a big chair about all the things which I -wanted for Christmas. She said that I was surely to come Christmas -morning and see the orphans get their dolls. Somebody named Santa Claus -would be there. I had heard of Santa Claus before, but only in a general -sort of a way. He seemed to be a very kindly sort of person who gave -away dolls by the hundred, sometimes to orphans, and sometimes just to -little girls who needed them. It was a question how much you had to need -them. - -At the very last Evelyn gave me a message to deliver. - -"Rhoda," she said, earnestly, "tell grandmother that there is good news. -What she was wishing for is really going to happen!" - -She hugged me up closer to her. - -"Oh, what a Christmas this will be!" she cried. "We are all going to get -what we want, all of us, even Rhoda!" - -Afterwards she changed. When I went out of the door she drew me back and -looked at me anxiously, almost coldly. - -"Rhoda, don't tell grandmother anything," she said. "It might be a -mistake. I wouldn't have her disappointed for the world!" - -I did not want grandmother to be disappointed, but still when I went -back into our house and saw her sitting by the window, I felt that I -should like to tell her some good news. Just that once. She looked so -frail and old, and I had never noticed before how white her hair was. - -My mother was very tender with grandmother. Every morning she would send -her three children, the twins and me, to kiss her, and when my father -came home at night she would send him to lean on the back of the big -chair, and look down at the closed Bible. Grandmother never took the -picture out when my father was there. She never even listened to the -people passing by outside. She would talk to him about other things in -which neither of them took much interest, until he would go away, half -sadly, half angrily. - -"She is the most absurd woman who ever lived," he told my mother. "Here -is Frank winning laurels by the dozen, and, on account of her stupid -prejudice, she won't listen to his name. Does she expect to keep this -thing up forever?" - -"She is thinking of him all the time," my mother said, quietly. "She -loves him." - -"I know she loves him!" my father cried. "She loves him better than she -does me. I was always the one who didn't count! Always." - -My mother laid her hand upon his arm and stopped him. - -"Hush, Robert," she said. - -Her eyes wandered over me sitting on my stool by the fireplace, and -passed to little brother Dick playing with his blocks. - -"Who can judge a mother's heart?" she questioned, softly, and then -turned upon him with a demand that was almost wrathful. "Have you -nothing to be thankful for," she cried, "that you grudge him a thought -at Christmas time!" - -My mother always took grandmother's part. She seemed to understand -grandmother better than my father did. Once I heard her say that the -curl in the Bible was like one of little Dick's. She laid it against his -soft hair, and it matched, color and curl, as if it had been cut from -his head. After that she was even kinder to grandmother than before. - -Norah out in the kitchen was the happiest person in the house. Every -night she wrote home to Ireland, and sometimes she laughed and sometimes -she cried. I liked to hear about Ireland. I would climb upon the kitchen -table and watch her write, and listen when she read bits of her letters -to me. I knew all about Norah's people, and could call her brothers and -sisters, and even her cousins, by name. She was sending money in her -letter to buy her mother a new green plaid shawl for Christmas. She was, -also, going to buy the priest a pig. Norah was worried about the priest. -He gave away everything that he had to the poor of the parish, and went -hungry all the time. After much thought she had decided on the present -of a pig, as being a thing which the priest might keep for himself. - -"Though they're that owdacious, Rhoda," she cried, in high wrath, "that -I'm thinking they'll take the pig, too!" - -"What would they do with the pig, Norah?" I asked, anxiously. - -"Sure, they might eat it!" she answered, with a dark frown. - -"Norah, what if you were to put a blue ribbon about its neck?" I -suggested. - -She went into fits of laughter and hugged me. - -"To think that you've niver even seen a pig!" she cried. "To think of it -dressed up! The innocent!" - -It was on that same night that with a great parade of secrecy she showed -me something hidden in the knife tray. It was a doll's hat made of blue -velvet, and trimmed with lovely white feathers, such as came out of the -pillows when Norah thumped them in the morning. Right in front there was -a big brass pin that shone like gold. Norah watched me while I examined -the hat, breathlessly. She seemed much pleased with my admiration, and -turned it around and around on one of her big fingers that I might -decide on the prettiest side, which was, of course, the one with the -brass pin. - -"But whom is it for, Norah?" I asked. - -"It's for a small frind of mine," she explained, with an air of deep -mystery. - -It was very strange. The dolls and the picture-book, even the hat, were -all for somebody's little friend, never for me. - -"I wonder what I'll get?" I said, weakly. - -"Why don't you ask Santa Claus, dear?" Norah inquired. - -I looked at her quickly. That was Evelyn's friend. - -"Who is he, Norah?" I questioned. - -She threw up her arms in the air. - -"And have I niver told you about him?" she cried. "The quare ould chap -that lives up in the chimney!" - -"Up in the chimney, Norah! Isn't he hot?" I demanded, in astonishment. - -"Faith, there's no fire could warm him," Norah answered, lowering her -voice mysteriously. - -Then her finger went up in apparent alarm. - -"Hush! He's listening! He wants to know which are the good byes and -gurrls. When Christmas morning comes the good ones will get prisents. -For he owns all the prisents in the world! And the bad ones will get -nought, barring switches!" - -I crept a little closer to Norah, and took a firm hold on her apron. It -was very sudden news. Had I always been good? - -"But the good childer," Norah went on, with a reassuring smile, "and you -are good, Rhoda, have only to ask for whativer they want at the parlor -fireplace!" - -I could not keep away from the fireplace after that. Every time that I -went into the parlor I peeped up the black bricks, and though I never -saw anything but the blue sky far, far above, I felt quite sure that he -was there. I made little scenes in my mind of the things which I should -say to him, and the things which he would say to me, after he became -convinced of my goodness. In the meanwhile I was good, oh, so good! and -best of all in the parlor. Later, I meant to ask for the queen doll, and -the pretty book, and the little hat trimmed with the white feathers and -the beautiful brass pin. Even if he could not give me just those ones, -because they were promised, he might give me others. I felt that he -could manage it in some way, if he were pleased with me. It was nice to -know that he was partial to good girls. - -Once I went so far as to speak his name. - -"Mr. Santa Claus!" I called, politely, for it was best to be polite. -"Oh, please, Mr. Santa Claus!" - -A big piece of soot dropped down over the burning wood right at my feet. -That was his way of showing that he heard! Then I was frightened, and -would have run away but for a sudden sound. Somebody was crying! It was -grandmother up in the corner of the sofa with the Bible on her knees. -She did not see me at all. She did not know that I was there. I put my -arms around her neck, and she looked up and talked to me quite as if I -were a grown person. - -"I want him so badly, Rhoda!" she said. - -"Who is it, grandma?" I whispered. - -"My little boy, Rhoda. He went away and he never came back again. I was -not patient enough with him. Always be patient, my dear." - -"Don't you cry, grandma," I said. "I'll get him back, dear grandma, if -you won't cry." - -She looked at me for a moment as if she almost believed me. I nodded -confidently at her. I knew. There was a way, but only little Rhoda had -thought of it as yet. If Norah had only told me sooner about Santa -Claus! - -After she had dried her eyes, and kissed me, and gone to her room, I put -my plan into execution. I told Santa Claus all about it up the black -bricks. He did not answer, but the soot fell softly, so I knew that he -heard and would remember. It was no longer a question of dolls or books -or even hats. I felt that the one thing which I wanted most in the world -was just for grandmother's little boy to come home. - -I did not hang up my stocking on Christmas eve. The twins hung up -theirs,--two little podgy stockings side by side at the mantel-piece. -Even quite a small stocking will hold candy, and I have known times when -the very nicest present of all would be away down at the toe. My little -Susan Sunshine, my littlest doll, came in the toe. I found her after I -thought everything was out. I wondered whether Dick or Trixie would find -a little Susan Sunshine. - -"Why don't sister hang up her stocking?" Dick asked, anxiously. - -"Is she bad?" Trixie inquired. - -"I'm not bad," I declared, hastily, from my bed in the next room. - -"Why don't you hang up your stocking, dear?" mother questioned. - -"I don't want anything," I answered, miserably. - -Afterwards I heard her talking to my father. - -"I don't know what to make of Rhoda," I heard her say. "She won't hang -up her stocking. I hope that she is not going to be sick. It would be -dreadful to have one of the children sick at Christmas time. Her head is -quite hot." - -I felt my head. It was hot. - -I lay awake for a long time thinking of things. I considered the twins -and their stockings, and grandmother's delight in the morning. Somehow I -had to think a great deal about grandmother in order to keep myself from -crying. Grandmother did not know what I was doing for her. The little -boy must be getting ready to come right now. Off in the distance I could -hear sleigh-bells, perhaps his sleigh-bells, now near, now far away, and -in the pauses between the soft throb of the organ over in the church, -and a voice singing a hymn, the one that I knew about angels and the -manger with the Child. It was very beautiful. I sighed a little, -sleepily. After all I was happy. - -Then in a moment it was day, bright day, and in the next room there was -a confused murmur of voices and a hurried scamper of feet. Dick shouted -excitedly. Somebody beat a drum with a low rumble like soldiers, not as -a little boy would beat a drum, but as my father might if he were -teaching a little boy. Somebody marched pitapat about the room, and -somebody danced by the fireplace. - -"Go back to your cribs," my mother cried, uneasily. "You'll get your -death of cold!" - -On the chair by the side of my bed there was a stocking, with queer -knobby places, which meant oranges, and square places, which meant -candy. Right on top there was a blue velvet hat trimmed with white -feathers, and against the stocking there leant a picture-book. I looked -at them incredulously. Santa Claus had not understood! Or else he had -thought that I loved my presents better than I did my grandmother! I -kissed the hat and the picture-book twice, and then I put them sternly -back on the chair. I knew what I should do. Santa Claus would find that -I meant what I said. - -"Did you like the picture-book, Rhoda?" my father inquired at the -breakfast table. - -"Yes," I answered, hurriedly. - -Norah smiled at me from the shelter of the kitchen door. - -"How did my little frind like the hat?" she asked, in a stage whisper. - -It seemed to me that there were some subjects which would not bear -talking about. - -They felt my head a great many times that morning, and even looked at my -tongue. - -"She acts so unlike herself," my mother said, anxiously. "You don't feel -sick anywhere, do you, Rhoda?" - -"No," I replied, huskily. - -Grandmother evinced a sudden interest. - -"I wouldn't let her go to Evelyn's," she said. - -"But I want to go!" I cried, piteously. - -"There, there," my father said, in a soothing way. "Of course you may -go." - -"Only you must take an iron pill first," my mother pleaded. "Just to -please mother." - -She did the pill up very neatly in a raisin, so that it did not look at -all like a pill. My mother could make the most horrible things look -nice,--such as cough syrup, with little specks of jelly floating on it -like a pudding. Afterwards you might know by the taste that there had -been something wrong, but you could never tell beforehand; not even -though you might wonder at dessert being kindly offered for breakfast. - -I took my pill meekly, and drank a glass of milk to please my father. -Then after much consultation they put on my cloak, and let me go. I had -the picture-book and the hat hidden under my arm as I went out the door, -but nobody noticed. - -Evelyn's house was farther down the street, not quite out of sight from -our front gate, but still at a little distance. There were orphans -going in when I came up,--orphans in decorous rows of twos; each little -girl with a white apron hanging down under her cloak. They went in very -quietly, not at all as if they were excited at the prospect. I felt that -they could not know what was inside. I watched to see them dance when -they passed the parlor door, but they only stared stolidly. - -"A merry Christmas to all of you," a sonorous voice cried within. - -I peeped in cautiously. There he was! That was Santa Claus. He stood by -a beautiful tree at the top of the room. He had on a white fur coat, and -there was a shaggy cap on his head. He smiled at us. It almost seemed -that he smiled at me, little Rhoda Harcourt, as if he remembered the -chimney! His arms were full of dolls, but I knew at first glance that I -could never really like him. There was something about his face that -made it impossible. - -"These dolls are only for good girls," he said again, in a loud voice -that had a muffled sound. - -I slipped in closer. The orphans stared back at him unconcernedly. They -were sure that they were good. One, a very sleepy orphan, put her head -on her chair, and went fast to sleep in the most impolite way. - -"Here, wake up!" the next orphan said, and slapped her. - -She woke up and slapped her neighbor back, and was going to sleep again -when Santa Claus called her name. It was Betsy. He gave Betsy the first -doll. He was evidently quite satisfied with her behavior. I was much -surprised. - -The dolls went quickly after that, all except the queen. She sat up high -on the tree, and her eyes had a frightened look, as though she did not -like orphans. Once Santa Claus took her down, but Evelyn put her back -again. - -"Not that one, Frank," I heard her cry. - -He turned and whispered something to her behind the tree. The branches -were very thick, but for a moment I almost thought that his face grew -different, younger and fairer, and with a gleam of triumphant laughter -about it quite unlike the Santa Claus that he had been before. Then he -changed again, and came out, with his long beard flowing and his fierce -white eyebrows frowning, to give away more dolls. - -At the very end of all he picked up the queen, and called gruffly, -"Rhoda!" - -I peered out of my corner at the orphans. I could not see any orphan -Rhoda among them. Just suppose that Santa Claus should mean me! He did -mean me! He beckoned with what he thought was a friendly look. - -"Rhoda," Evelyn cried. "Why, you're not afraid, are you, dear?" - -"No," I answered, hastily. - -I do not think that she quite believed me, for she took me by the hand -and led me up to where Santa Claus stood waiting with the queen in his -arms. It was evident that he had forgotten everything, everything that I -had ever told him. - -"This is for you," he said in a genial way, holding out the doll. - -The queen looked at me with delighted eyes, the dear queen! but I could -not take her. I gave him the hat and the picture-book in a hurry. - -"I don't want these," I said. "You know what I want. I told you up the -chimney. And you promised to bring him to me. You know that you did!" - -He seemed a little astonished for a moment, and then he laughed. - -"Did I?" he questioned. "What chimney was that? You see I go up so many -that sometimes I forget." - -"What did you want, Rhoda?" Evelyn asked in surprise, putting her arms -around me. "Tell Evelyn." - -"I want grandmother's little boy to come home," I answered, almost -crying. "The little boy who made the lilac ring. All day long she -watches for him. I don't like to see poor grandmother cry!" - -There were other things which I might have said, but Evelyn stopped me -with a backward glance at the rows of orphans agog on their chairs, and -a lady or two who had come with them watching in the background. Even -Santa Claus was startled. - -"A touch of tragedy," he said. "Who is this child?" - -"Can't you guess?" Evelyn whispered. "What was I telling you just now!" - -He looked down at me with sudden enlightenment. - -"Rhoda!" he cried, uncertainly. "It's not our Rhoda? She was a baby." - -"But babies grow in five years," Evelyn replied, in a laughing tone. - -He stooped lower and drew me to him. - -"Whatever I promised I will do," he said, emphatically. "If you wanted -the whole world I would give it to you to-day!" - -He threw off the long yellow cloak that was wrapped about him and did -something to his face. In a moment he was just a man like other men, and -had me upon his shoulder. Somehow it seemed to me that I had been on his -shoulder before when the floor was farther away. - -"Almost too big for the old perch," he said, with a laugh that was half -merry and half tremulous. - -"Oh, don't forget her doll!" Evelyn cried. - -She came a little closer to him so that she could whisper. - -"I honor you for this," she said, ardently. - -Then she put the queen on his other arm, and gave me the hat and -picture-book to carry. The orphans laughed a little, but Santa Claus did -not mind. He strode out into the sunshine with his heavy load, and -started up the block. The bells were ringing for service as we went -along, and the street was filled with people, but I was the only little -girl in the whole town whom Santa Claus took home. And at our parlor -window grandmother was looking out. - - - - -V - -THE HOTTENTOT - - -THERE had been a family council in which my relatives had all sat -around, gravely, and talked about me and my conduct. It was a painful -affair. They had mentioned every bad thing which I had done in the -course of a whole week, some of which I had not thought they knew about, -and then in the middle of it all grandmother Harcourt had made an -announcement. - -"Rhoda's behavior grows worse and worse," she had advanced, severely. -"And as for her manners, she's a regular Hottentot!" - -"Hottentot, eh?" granddad Lawrence repeated, whimsically. - -He had me upon his knee, and as he spoke he turned my face toward his, -and regarded it with much apparent interest. I gazed back at him -wistfully. He was company, and it was very hard that company should hear -me called a Hottentot. I was sure that I did not look like that dreadful -name which had suddenly sprung upon grandmother's lips. It had such an -awful sound! - -"She's no worse than other children," my mother urged, in defence. - -She might blame me herself, but when grandmother Harcourt looked over -her spectacles and invented names my mother was sure to grow angry. - -"It seems to me that I've heard about Hottentots before," granddad -Lawrence went on, nodding his head. "They're very fond of candy, -Hottentots are, and they like their own way. Yes, they like their own -way." - -"Not any more than other children," my mother said again. "Rhoda gets -into mischief solely because she has nothing to do." - -"Why don't you send her to school?" granddad Lawrence asked. "She is -seven years old." - -"Oh, I couldn't send her to school!" my mother cried, anxiously. - -"No, not yet," grandmother protested, in her turn. - -It was the one subject upon which they agreed. - -"Well, let her take lessons in something, then. There's the piano -standing untouched. I've heard of Hottentots who had a very good ear for -music." - -He pinched my ear as he spoke, and puffed out his cheeks in a funny way, -as he always did when he wanted to laugh. He had very little hair on his -head, and a round, pink face like a baby's, and a pair of wicked blue -eyes that saw everything, both before and behind him. I had never heard -of granddad Lawrence being cross. He was good to everybody, from the -little newsboy who ran after him every morning in the street to the -stray dogs which selected him for a master on account of his smile. Most -of all he was good to us, his grandchildren, and hardly a day passed by -that granddad Lawrence did not come walking in to hear the news. There -were no children at his own house, for Auntie May was growing into a -young lady, and granddad Lawrence liked children, being a child himself -at heart, with all a child's love of mischief. But to the friends who -trusted in him, he was the soul of loyalty, in thought as well as in -word. - -When he went home I walked out to the hall door with him, as I always -did, and then we had what he called a mercantile transaction. He bent -down low, and patted his pocket. - -"Don't you want to draw on the bank?" he asked, invitingly. - -I ran my hand far into the depths of that jingling pocket. I could have -whatever I liked, but the little brass pennies were the prettiest, and -the cute little silver ten-cent pieces, which seemed especially made for -children. - -"Draw again," he said, generously. "Now give the cashier a kiss." - -I did not kiss him for pennies. I kissed him for pure love. - -"Come again, dear granddad," I said, standing at the door to peep after -him. "Come again to-morrow." - -He waved his hand to me. - -"Good-bye, Hottentot," he called, mischievously. - -"Good-bye," I answered, in rather a plaintive voice. - -I did not think that I liked my new name. - -That was the first occasion on which I heard of my music lessons, but -not the last. My mother seemed to take wonderfully to the idea. She was -always discussing the things that she meant us to learn, but up to then -we had been too small for any of her plans to be of much importance. To -take music lessons was a very simple matter. It could not be considered -work, but play on a larger scale; and after I had slipped into the -parlor, and touched the piano keys with a timorous finger, I knew that I -should like it. The keys were voices. When grown-up people touched them, -they sang together beautifully. There was one which was a fairy queen, -and one which was a prince, and one away down in the lower bass made me -tremble when it talked. That was an ogre. I thought that he might eat -little children. I ran out of the parlor in a hurry for fear that he -should catch me. Something pattered up the stairs behind me, and chased -me along the hall, but in my mother's room not even an ogre would dare -to come. - -"She loves music!" my mother cried. "She is always hanging around the -piano." - -Grandmother looked at me curiously. - -"There has never been a musician in our family," she remarked, in a -dubious way. - -"I played before I was married," my mother answered. "There doesn't seem -to be any time for it now." - -She sighed a little as she spoke. - -Her lap was full of pretty new cloth which she was making into dresses, -and one of the twins was riding on the rockers of her chair, and one was -whistling, shrilly. My mother rocked slowly that there might not be an -accident. Most people would have thought that she was only a mother, but -at that precise moment she was, also, an express train coming into a -station, and I was a passenger waiting to get aboard. - -"I think I'll get Madame Tomaso to give Rhoda lessons," she said. "We -might as well have the best teacher in town. Dad had the best for me -when I was a child. It is the first step which always counts." - -The whistle sounded again, and two passengers climbed into the rocker -behind my mother's back. We were a very tight fit for the chair. She sat -a little forward in a meek way, so as to make room for our toes, and -rocked more slowly. The train was going uphill carrying a heavy load. - -When she was consulted on the subject, Madame Tomaso proved to be very -glad to give me lessons. For some reason or other it had been a poor -season for her, either because there were only a few little girls -musically inclined in the town, or because, which seems more probable, -she had a name for severity. She appeared very amiable, however, the -first morning that she entered our house. She drew me to her, with quite -a motherly hand, when I came bashfully into the parlor to meet her. - -"So this is the small Miss," she said, in a terrifying voice like the -ogre's. "And she loves the music? It is well." - -She shook hands with me very hard. She had on a dress trimmed with bits -of black glass,--I always hated jet afterwards,--and a red silk collar -which exactly matched the hearty red in her cheeks. Her hair was black, -and her eyes were black. I did not quite like the way that she looked at -me. I wondered if she ate little children. - -"She is so bright," my mother declared, fondly, pushing the hair back -from my forehead. "Stand up straight, Rhoda. You will find that she -learns very quickly, Madame Tomaso." - -"So?" the ogress answered, in an absent manner. - -She was looking at the piano-stool and at me. She was evidently wild to -begin, and had not much time to spare for motherly confidences. - -"I am afraid that she might fall off the stool," my mother said, -hurriedly. "Couldn't you use a chair, Madame Tomaso? Though the chairs -are rather low for such a little girl." - -They made a chair higher with a big book and a sofa pillow, and set me -on top in front of the fascinating white keys. The twins were peeping in -the door. I looked back at them grandly. I felt very old and important. -It seemed almost impossible that only that morning we had been playing -express trains together, like children! Still, there was something about -it which frightened me, notwithstanding my pride. - -"Go away!" I whispered, warningly, to the figures at the door. - -They went quickly in evident alarm. Even Dick did not stop for a second -look. - -"Will she hurt sister?" Trixie asked, in a high voice, as they climbed -upstairs. - -Dick peered between the banisters. - -"If she does, I'll shoot her," he declared, stoutly. - -I was glad to see them escape, but I did not like it quite so well when -my mother followed them, and the door was tightly closed. I had such a -trapped feeling. And the pillow was so high that I could not get down -without help. Anything might happen! Madame Tomaso yawned a little as -she settled down by my side, but she was still kind. She put a paper in -front of me which was covered with black scratches. - -"Which is 'a'?" she asked, sociably, pointing to a row of things. - -"'A' was an Archer who shot at a Frog," I recited, in a timid whisper. - -The twins and I had learned that out of a pink book with blue edges. The -archer was dressed in red, and the frog was green with yellow trimmings. -I could, also, say the catechism from cover to cover, if she would like -to hear that, and Who Killed Cock Robin. I had never supposed that -anybody but my mother cared for such things. She loved to have us say -them to her. - -"And 'b'?" Madame Tomaso inquired, staring. - -"'B' was a Butcher who had a big Dog," I went on, with growing -confidence. - -I did not feel nearly so frightened now. She was rather nice. If I were -very good, maybe she would not eat me after all. - -"Don't you know your letters?" she demanded, in astonishment. "Don't -you go to school?" - -"No," I answered, sadly. "I am not strong." - -"Ah! Bah!" she cried, in a rude way. - -I was sure, perfectly sure, that even a Hottentot would never have said -that. - -Madame Tomaso taught me my letters that morning, at least the first -seven of them, which seemed particularly needed in music. She called for -a bottle of ink, and wrote their names on the white keys. She was very -patient with me, as I afterwards found out when I was no longer a new -pupil to be coaxed along the thorny path. She put each finger where it -belonged, and once, when I played five notes without any trouble, she -went down through a rent in her skirt which was fastened together with -safety-pins, and fished me out a caramel from a hidden pocket. It was -very old and hard, and looked as if it had seen much service, but she -regarded me with a benevolent expression while I ate it, and I felt that -we had made a good beginning. Take it altogether, I thought that I liked -music, and I practiced for hours. It was a great deal of fun when Madame -Tomaso was not there, for then I did it all with one finger, which made -it much easier. As my feet hung in the air, the twins worked the pedals -for me, and my mother would come into the parlor with a pleased smile, -and fix the curtains so that I might have a good light. - -"That child will surely be a musician," I heard her tell my father, in -an eager way. "I've promised her a ring the day that she can play the -Traeumerei. It may take a long time, but then she practices _so_ -faithfully!" - -My father groaned. I think my mother slapped him. - -Of all the family it was, perhaps, Norah who was the most delighted -with my lessons. She took a very friendly interest in them. She always -dusted the parlor when I was there practicing, and she would sometimes -put down a big finger herself on the piano keys in an experimental way, -and jump when they sounded. There was only one thing about my music -which worried Norah, and that was the fact that I knew no tunes. - -"Sure it's time that you were learning something," she would say, -suspiciously. "Ain't she keeping you back? Can't you play 'The Wearing -of the Green' yit?" - -"No," I answered, humbly. - -"You ought to have an Irish teacher," she said, conclusively. "Madame -Tomaso! It's a cat's name that she has! I never could abide them -foreigners." - -"Listen, Norah," I urged. - -Very carefully, very slowly, with one finger and infinite pains, I -played "Home, Sweet Home" for her. She burst into tears, and throwing -her arms around my neck, rocked back and forth with grief. For a moment -I thought that I had hurt her feelings, but it was all right. Norah was -only homesick for old Ireland. She was paying me the highest compliment -that I ever received. - -Little by little Madame Tomaso came to treat me differently. The coaxing -voice grew gruff, and the black eyes savage. No more caramels came out -of the rent in her skirt, and sometimes I almost fancied that she was -scolding me! I was very little to be scolded. No one had done that -before. I tried harder than ever to please her. I practiced with two -fingers, and, at last, even with three, one very heavy in the bass, and -two very shaky in the treble. I did not tell anybody about the things -which she said, for I was ashamed, but I imagined that granddad -suspected. Granddad was always so sharp. It was a wonderful comfort to -hide my face on his shoulder, and be petted. He was sorry for me without -my saying a single word. He made me draw on the bank every day, and he -confided to me all the troubles which he had had when he was a boy. - -Once he told me of an awful thing that he did. He puffed out his cheeks -before he began to talk, so I knew that it was going to be funny. - -"I didn't get on well with a maid my mother had," he said. "Her name was -Polly. Did I ever tell you about Polly, Rhoda?" - -"No, granddad," I answered, eagerly. - -I was leaning against his chair, and we had the parlor quite to -ourselves. It was a time for confidences. - -"Polly didn't like boys," granddad went on. - -"But she liked you, granddad," I asserted, loyally. - -He shook his head. - -"Polly liked me least of all. She may have had her reasons, but it was -her fault in the first place, mind you. When I'd bring home a poor stray -dog, she would turn it out to starve! And when I brought home stones, -and I was always fond of stones, she would dump them out in the road. I -felt that I should like to get even." - -I nodded at him. I had felt that way myself. - -"So I got a lot of pepper, and one day when Polly was going to sweep I -scattered it around the house. I rubbed it well into the carpets." - -He scraped his foot over the floor to show me just how he did it. For -the moment he looked about ten years old. - -"I rubbed it in quite hard. It didn't show. Nobody could tell that -there was anything wrong until she began to sweep. Well, Rhoda, if you -could have heard her sneeze, it would have done you good. She sneezed -for hours. At first they thought that Polly had a new kind of sickness. -They went flying for the doctor; but my mother had noticed me laugh, and -she pounced on me. She shook the truth out of me." - -He trembled with laughter at the recollection. - -"But what did they do to you, granddad?" I asked, breathlessly. - -Sometimes his story would have an anticlimax. - -"They put me down in the big black cellar," he declared, impressively. - -I rubbed my head against his shoulder. I felt that I could never have -treated him in that way if I had been his mother. - -"Poor granddad," I said, in a consoling whisper. "They were not good to -you!" - -He puffed out his cheeks, and his eyes shone. - -"That depends," he said, cheerfully. "I didn't mind, bless you. We lived -in the country, and they kept their pies in the cellar." - -"Yes?" I questioned, eagerly. - -"That night when they took stock they were short three pies." - -"Oh!" I gasped. - -I gazed at him in indecision. He looked back at me quite gravely, save -for a lurking twinkle in his eye. - -"Did you eat them, granddad?" I asked, confidentially. - -He nodded. - -"And twenty doughnuts," he said. - -I regarded him with deep admiration. What a dreadful bad boy dear -granddad had been! - -I used often to wish that Madame Tomaso had granddad to deal with. I -did not think that she would be so cross, or, at least, she would not -show it so openly. She had a trick of frowning until her eyebrows grew -together in one thick, black line. She would frown and beat time, and I -would chase after her on the piano, with a blur before my eyes, and my -heart in my mouth. Sometimes we arrived at a bar together, both out of -breath; sometimes she left me far behind, very weak and miserable, with -stumbling fingers which refused to hurry. She always beat time with a -large black fan, and when the chase proved exhaustive, she would open -the fan, and fan herself even in the depth of winter. While she fanned -herself she would say things to me, unkind things. - -Once she told me about her other pupils. - -"I have ten," she said, "ten little girls. Some of them do not make -good music. _I rap them over the fingers with my fan!_" - -She went on for quite awhile relating long stories of raps inflicted -upon helpless little girls, some of whom had actually been saucy to her, -and some of whom had merely played false notes like myself. A much -larger girl than I had been rapped that very morning for false notes, -and had cried! Afterwards she had played a great deal better. - -I listened in growing terror. I wondered if she were trying to frighten -me. Then suddenly I glanced up at my great-grandfather's picture. - -The parlor walls were hung with the pictures of men who had borne my -name. Most of them had preached, but some had fought; and he, my -great-grandfather, who looked down over the piano, had preached with a -sword in his hand. All the Harcourts had been brave men. They had never -been afraid of anything. And on the other side there was granddad -Lawrence, whose courage no one could possibly question. He would not -have stood this when he was a boy. Just think of Polly! - -Something inside of me seemed to awake. I turned and faced her, ogress -though she was. - -"You'll never rap mine," I said, steadily. "Never! I am bad! I am a -Hottentot!" - -I made a horrid face at her, such as a Hottentot might be supposed to -have. - -For the first and only time in the course of our acquaintance she -laughed. She laughed as if she would die, while I sat on my sofa pillow -and watched her. During the rest of the lesson she was remarkably -friendly. - -My mother was much pleased with the progress that I made. She often -spoke of Madame Tomaso's method, and of how brilliantly her little -pupils played. My mother had never heard of raps. All the family were -encouraging in their comments, and they, also, set me a shining example. -My mother rubbed up her musical knowledge, and even my grandmother would -steal into the parlor in the early twilight, and play some Old World -melody which held within its tune the hurry of dancing feet. All these I -was to learn some day, when my fingers had grown as strong as my desire. -I played better and better for the admiring circle, until Madame Tomaso -herself would have been astonished if she could have heard me. - -"She really does quite well," my father said one night. "It almost -sounds like a tune. Is it 'Yankee Doodle,' or 'Old Dog Tray'?" - -"Neither!" my mother cried, warmly. "I don't know exactly what it is -myself, but it is probably something classic. And she is doing it -beautifully!" - -"It is 'Yankee Doodle,' mother," I said, in a whisper. - -She did not hear me. She was looking at the piano with sad eyes. - -"They have taken an awful lot out of it," she said. "It was the first -thing that we bought after we were married!" - -"Was it?" my father inquired, briskly. "I thought we bought the -coffee-pot first. Didn't we fry eggs in the coffee-pot?" - -My mother gave him a startled glance. - -"We did fry eggs in a coffee-pot," she admitted, reluctantly. "At least -_you_ fried them. I did not know how." - -"Somehow eggs don't taste as good now-a-days as those did," my father -said, musingly. "I wonder if it was the coffee-pot." - -Grandmother leant over my shoulder, and examined the piano cover. - -"What made that, Rhoda?" she demanded, pointing to a broad streak which -ran through the plush. - -"That is where Madame Tomaso beats time," I answered, meekly. - -They looked at one another. - -"She is such an excellent teacher," my mother said, apologetically, -"that I suppose I ought not to complain. It's very good of her to take -so much trouble. Just as soon as they are large enough, she shall teach -the twins, too." - -"Oh, no, mother!" I cried, quickly. - -"Why not, Rhoda?" - -I evaded the question. - -"Couldn't I teach them, mother?" I asked, anxiously. - -They all laughed at me as if I had said something foolish. - -It was evident that I should never get rid of Madame Tomaso. She would -come year after year, forever and ever, until I and the twins were quite -grown up. The twins were little and easily frightened. She would make -them cry. I knew that she would. Sometimes, although I was such a big -girl, she almost made me cry, when she beat time and shouted, for she -was beginning to shout. And that last scene, though I had been -victorious, had rankled. I felt that my mother would be highly indignant -if I told her, but somehow I could not tell her. There did not seem to -be any way out. I looked at the piano cover, and thought and thought. - -"Granddad," I inquired next day, "what became of Polly?" - -"Oh, Polly left," he answered. - -"Right away, granddad?" I demanded, eagerly. - -"Just as soon as she could get her trunk packed. Why?" - -I rubbed my head against his shoulder without replying. - -He did not ask any more questions, but he looked at me, keenly. He -slipped his hand under my chin, and forced me to meet his eyes. I could -never hide my thoughts from anybody. And granddad was always so horribly -sharp! He chuckled a little as he gazed at me. When he went away he made -me draw largely on the bank, and he patted me on the head. - -"Keep up your courage," he whispered. "You're game!" - -Out in the hall I heard him ask my mother a sudden question. - -"When does Madame Tomaso come again?" he inquired, suavely. - -It was always on Tuesdays that Madame Tomaso came, and it was strange -how Tuesdays raced around. That Tuesday, in particular, arrived almost -in a moment while I was still thinking. But I had made my preparations. - -"You are very careless about the casters, Norah," my mother said at -breakfast. "There is actually no pepper on the table." - -"But I filled them last night, ma'am!" Norah cried, staring. - -It seemed to me that they all turned and looked at me. I slipped from -the room in a hurry. Somehow I felt so queer that morning. I kept -sighing, and when the door-bell rang I would get quite cold all over. It -rang a great many times before Madame Tomaso came, fresh and alert from -her walk, with an air of friendliness which was always sure to disappear -later. She turned cross very early that day, even before she had taken -off her things. - -"I have been too lenient with you, little Miss," she told me, in an -awful voice. "We will try a new method." - -She seated herself by the piano, and folded her arms. I sat perched on -my cushion, and stared at her in fascination. Oh, how I wished that I -had let the pepper alone! Oh, how I wished that I was good! After all -it was so pleasant to be good. - -"Play," she said, in a masterful manner. "I will be an audience. I will -be a great many mens and womens. We will listen to you." - -I played. It was very terrible. Her eyebrows grew together. That was the -way she would look when she found me out, only worse, much worse. I -played faster. She watched my notes, and sometimes she would moan, -feebly, as if something hurt her. I played on faster still, one -trembling little hand racing ahead of the other, until musical flesh and -blood could stand it no longer. She began to count with a shout. - -"One, two, three, four!" she cried, and brought the fan down on the -piano cover. - -Then she sneezed. - -"I knew it," she murmured, grimly, to herself. "I felt it coming on -this morning!" - -She counted again and sneezed, and I sneezed a little myself in a -hurried, guilty way. She looked at me with sudden suspicion. She was -sharp, almost as sharp as granddad. In a second she had lifted the piano -cover, and found a pile of pepper under that well-worn spot. The things -which she said were awful. She said them in three or four languages, and -she said them in such a high voice that my mother and grandmother came -running in alarm. She pointed at me, with a shaking finger. - -"Look at your child," she cried. "She lays traps for me! Pepper traps!" - -"Rhoda!" my mother exclaimed. - -My grandmother seemed stricken dumb. - -I hung my head in shame. I had forgotten how sorry they would be. - -She told them all about it. She knew just why I had done it, and how I -had done it. She declared that she would never give me another lesson. -No, never! Her voice grew very loud in her denunciation, and the mild -words of shocked apology which my mother put in from time to time were -swept away in the torrent of her wrath. I saw my grandmother's lip curl, -and my mother look astonished. They were judging her by their own -standards of quiet reticence and womanly dignity. She was almost -justifying me. - -Yet before she went she lodged an arrow in my mother's heart. - -"As for the child's talent," she cried, and snapped her fingers. "It -would be as easy to teach her the tight-rope!" - -I heard somebody laugh in the next room. It sounded just like granddad. - -My mother and my grandmother went to the door with Madame Tomaso, and -saw her out quite as if she were company, and then they came back into -the parlor and gazed at me. They did not seem to know just what to say. -It was evident that I had done something dreadful. I began to be -frightened. We had a big black cellar, with dark, cavernous recesses -where cobwebs swayed about, and dwarfs peeped out at you. I wished that -it was night, and I was safe in my bed. - -Then somebody shuffled in behind me, and patted my head softly. I looked -up into two merry blue eyes. - -"Don't you fret, Rhoda," a sympathizing voice said. "Granddad will stand -by you." - -Even now when he is only a memory I can still feel the thrill of -gratitude with which I clung to his protecting hand. - - - - -VI - -A SOCIAL EVENT - - -"BUT she hasn't any dress!" my mother cried, in consternation. "Only -that white Sunday one which is much too short!" - -"Let down a tuck," my grandmother said, decisively. "That would lengthen -it." - -"Oh, do let down a tuck, mother!" I echoed, eagerly. - -I had a little pink envelope hugged up close against my apron. On the -outside it had "Miss Rhoda Harcourt" written in very large letters, and -on the inside it invited me to a party! I was not quite sure what people -did at a party; but I knew it must be something delightful, judging from -the commotion the pink envelope made in the family. There was a -whirlwind of talk about white dresses, and new slippers, and blue bows, -and in the midst of the discussion Auntie May caught up her dress and -danced. - -"Come here, Rhoda," she called. "This is what they do at a party. Come. -I will teach you how." - -I braced my back, stiffly, and let her haul me around. This was a -serious matter, and must be undertaken with a sober mind. - -"She hasn't any spring in her," Auntie May exclaimed, ruefully. "Who -would think that she is related to me!" - -"She does not come of a dancing family," my grandmother replied, with a -cold smile. "The Harcourts look after their souls, and let their feet -alone." - -Auntie May made a wry face. She was my mother's sister. - -"Don't shut up like a knife, Rhoda," she said, disconsolately. "Let -yourself go. There, I believe the Lawrence side of the family is waking -up at last!" - -She looked so pretty as she danced in the firelight that I tried to be -like her. I copied her courtesies, and followed her steps, and when, at -length, she fell breathlessly into a chair, I leaned against her knee -with my hand on her pink cheek. - -"Auntie May, are you going, too?" I asked, confidentially. - -Somehow I thought it would be rather nice to have Auntie May there, just -for company. - -"Child!" she cried, with a grand air, "it's a children's party. I am -sixteen!" - -I felt the rebuke. I was only seven myself, and there were whole -centuries between us. It was strange, though, how sometimes Auntie May -would play with my dolls, and sometimes she would tuck up her hair and -keep me at arm's length. I never knew which she was going to be--little -girl or grown woman. - -Auntie May did not live with us, but in another house with a lady who -called herself my frivolous grandmother, and curled her hair every day -of her life. Grandmother Harcourt wore sober black silk dresses, but -this other grandmother liked blue and pink, and even sometimes a gallant -touch of red that made her look almost young again. Whenever she looked -her youngest, she was greatly pleased, and curled her hair triumphantly. -At family meetings the two grandmothers often made those curls the -subject for discussion, and oftener still it was my dress and manners -which never seemed to suit either of them. One wanted me very quiet and -subdued, and dressed in gingham, and the other wanted me very gay and -lively, and dressed in silk. As grandmother Harcourt lived in our -house, she had the advantage, and, save for occasional bursts of -splendor, I went in great meekness of spirit and dress. - -I had thought at first that there was going to be trouble about the -party. My frivolous grandmother objected seriously to the idea of that -tuck. She seemed to think that I should look very shabby among the other -little girls. She spoke of her position, and of the great pleasure that -it would give her to buy me a dress. - -"Nellie," she urged, almost with tears in her eyes, "let me buy Rhoda a -suitable dress. You surely don't want that unfortunate child to go to -the Otway's with a tuck let down!" - -Grandmother Harcourt did not say anything. I fancy that she must have -had it all arranged beforehand, for, after a rather appealing look at -her, my mother declined the offer in a faint, reluctant voice. - -I did not care what I wore. I was going to a party. That was enough for -me. All the night before I could not sleep, and when, at last, the hour -drew near, and I stood before my mother while she gave a final touch to -my floating hair, I felt that it was all a dream. It was a dream going -down the stairs while the twins, in their nightgowns, peeped after me, -and it was a dream getting into the carriage which Auntie May had -brought to take me. The very streets were a dream, with little -white-clad girls passing in our direction and little boys, with stiff -white collars and solemn faces, walking along behind them. And most of -all that big house on the hill was a dream, with the lights shining in -all its windows, and the rows of Chinese lanterns in the piazza, and a -nearby violin letting off cheerful notes of preparation. - -"Mrs. Otway is giving this party for the two little grandchildren who -are visiting her," Auntie May said, peering out of the carriage window. -"They come from the city. They are cousins. You saw them in church on -Sunday." - -So that was who they were! I felt that I had learned something. Only the -Sunday before there had come into the pew before me, first a little boy, -and then a little girl, followed by a party of ladies. The little boy -sat up in the far end of the pew, just as I did, and he had a high silk -hat laid on the cushion beside him, and an elegant cane with a silver -head to which he seemed much attached. I never noticed little boys as a -rule. I divided them into two classes: boys who walked clumsily, in -heavy boots, and glanced sidewise at me, and _bad_ boys who made awful -faces from behind trees. Never to one of them had I said a single word. -That boy, however, was something quite different. I knew that as soon as -I looked at him. He had a light graceful figure, and brave, beautiful -eyes. When he gazed over his shoulder and smiled at me, I felt strangely -pleased. It was as though some one whom I had known a long time ago had -come again. - -"Oh, so _he_ is Theodore Otway!" I cried, unguardedly, remembering the -name on my pink invitation. - -Auntie May laughed a whole minute, just about nothing at all. - -"You get down here, Rhoda," she said. "Now, remember to shake out your -hair the way that I showed you. And don't you get frightened as you -always do. Your dress isn't very fine; but there is one thing that is -nice about it. It has real lace basted in the neck. Mother put it in. -Just fancy, grandmother Harcourt never noticed! Always give your right -hand first in the ladies' chain. You are the only little girl who has -come in a carriage. Oh, dear me, I wish that it wasn't a children's -party! I'd just love to go in! The lovely, lovely music! What shall you -do, Rhoda, if you get very frightened?" - -"I'll shut my eyes, and think that I'm in church," I answered, soberly. - -"Good heavens!" I heard her cry as the carriage drove away, "there's the -other side of the family coming out after all!" - -I went up the steps rather breathlessly. There was a big lump rising in -my throat, as if I had run miles and miles. I wondered if they would let -me in, or if I would have to say what my name was. I was not real sure -in my mind that I knew what my name was. Once, years ago, I had been -called Rhoda, but Rhoda always went to bed at seven o'clock. This was a -new little girl, a fairy child, who walked under globes of fire -straight into fairy-land. - -Up, up, I went, past a man with shining buttons who held the door open -very graciously for me, past shrubs and flowers banked along the -staircase, into a room where there was a great hum of voices. Ever so -many little girls, dozens of them, were taking off their hats, and -shaking out their skirts, and doing what grandmother called "prinking" -before a great glass. I prinked a little myself, following out Auntie -May's directions. I thought that I looked rather nice. A woman in a -white cap seemed to think so, too. She took a great deal of pains with -me, and when the other little girls, who knew one another, went down the -stairs in a group, she led me by the hand to the staircase, and showed -me where to go. - -It was very hard to walk down the stairs alone. I had such a queer -feeling, and I could not see a thing for a mist before my eyes. I went -quite slowly, step by step. I could hear the people in the parlor -talking. - -A lady said, "How pretty!" and a boy's voice cried, "Here she is! Here -she is, at last!" - -Then in a moment some one was shaking my hand. Little by little the mist -cleared from before my eyes, and I saw that I was at the party. - -The parlor was a long room, running the whole length of the house, but -it looked crowded that night. There were groups of little girls, all -those whom I had seen upstairs, and more besides, and lots and lots of -little boys who stood in corners and laughed among themselves. There -were lights on the walls and flowers everywhere, and the few grown-up -people who moved about seemed just as gay and festive as the children. -By the door were stationed Theodore Otway and his cousin, and she had -on a lovely pink dress with cascades of little bows falling down her -back. All the grown-up ladies seemed to watch her, and when she pranced -and shook her bows I heard a lady say, "Paris!" in an awed tone. - -There was such a hubbub everywhere that I did not notice at first that a -boy, whom I had never seen before, was writing his name on my programme. -He was quite a stout boy in tight clothes. - -"I'll take this first one, just to make sure," he said. "Maybe, after -awhile, I'll dance with you again. Don't you forget what I look like." - -"No," I answered, humbly. - -"That's right," he continued, patronizingly. "What's your name?" - -I told him in a bashful whisper. - -"Well, you want to watch out, and when I holler 'Rhoda' you come where I -am. That will be when the music strikes up. Don't forget." - -"No," I said again. - -"If you are not there, I might take some other girl," he remarked, as a -final caution. - -Theodore Otway was going by, led by a lady. She was arguing seriously -with him. - -"Of course you must dance the first dance with your cousin!" I heard her -cry. "I told you yesterday that you must. You can ask the little girl -some other time." - -He gave me a miserable glance as he went to the other end of the room. - -I hardly noticed him. I was so worried over the stout boy, who roved -about the room, here and there and everywhere. Once he hid behind a -sofa, and once he went out in the hall to get a drink of lemonade. He -unbuttoned his jacket, and tried to make himself look different by -crossing his eyes. I was sure that he did. And, just when the music -struck up, he disappeared altogether! The other little girls all had -partners. I was the only one left out. I felt it very keenly. - -Suddenly I heard some one shout, "Rhoda!" - -I turned around, and there he was behind my chair, where he had been -standing all the time. - -"Come along," he said, just as if it were my fault, although there was a -look of elation about him. "If you don't hurry up, we won't get in the -top set. That's the nicest of all." - -I followed him, meekly. I was very glad to find him again, but I felt an -inward conviction that I should never get used to boys. - -It was not hard to dance. Somehow it was more fun than it had been at -home with Auntie May. I always remembered to give my right hand first in -the ladies' chain, and when I met my partner I courtesied to him every -time. I did not forget a single thing! The music was very lively, and -everybody was smiling, even the grown-up people at the other end of the -room who danced and romped among themselves. I thought that I should -like to go on forever, back and forth, and in and out in the ladies' -chain. I wished that the music would never stop, but it did, at last, -with a sudden chord, and we were all ready for something else. - -It was a game this time, a strange, new game called "Post-office." It -began by a little girl leaving the room, mysteriously, and calling a -little boy out into the hall to receive a letter. - -"There's a letter in the post-office for Davie Williams," she cried, in -a shrill, high voice that sounded frightened. - -All the other little girls laughed. Davie Williams grew very red in the -face, but he went out for his letter, and closed the door carefully -behind him. - -I wondered why he stayed so long, and what they could possibly be doing -behind the door. It was very exciting. Suppose, just suppose, that there -should be a letter for me! More little girls went out, and more little -boys. The girls tossed their heads, and the boys went quickly, as though -to get it over. One boy called out another boy instead of a little girl, -and was laughed at. I did not think that I should like to be laughed at. -Then Theodore Otway went out and I heard my name. - -He was waiting for me with his hands in his pockets. - -"Hello," he said, in a diffident way. - -"Hello," I answered, shyly fingering my hair. - -I looked about for the wonderful something which I had come to see. -There was nothing, only the hall and Theodore Otway still with his hands -in his pockets. Strange to say he seemed embarrassed. He fidgeted. He -talked in jerks. - -"I saw you in church," he said, suddenly. - -I nodded at him. - -"I saw you, too," I confessed, with a shamefaced smile. - -He came a step nearer, and hesitated. - -"Say," he said, "I don't live in this house when I'm home." - -"No?" I answered, inquiringly. - -"No," he replied, seriously. - -We were both silent. There did not seem to be anything more to talk -about. Still it was rather nice out in the hall. - -Somebody rattled the knob. Evidently our turn was over. - -"Who's going to take you out to supper?" he asked, with sudden interest. - -"I don't know," I answered. - -"Well, let me take you, won't you? You'd better. There's a boy here who -plays tricks on little girls!" - -I shivered. Was it the stout boy? - -"Once he made a little girl cry out loud at a party! You'd better. Will -you? Say yes." - -He came a little closer. He put out his hand, and touched my hair. - -"It's like sunshine!" he cried, with a burst of enthusiasm. - -I stole a shy glance at him. Nobody had ever told me that before. - -"Say yes!" he begged, in a new tone. - -"Yes," I whispered, hiding my face behind my hair. - -Somebody rattled the knob again. They were growing impatient. - -"Well, good-bye," he said, in a hurried way. His hands were back in his -pockets. - -"Good-bye," I answered. - -He went toward the door, then turned again, as if he had forgotten -something, and stood thinking. - -"Will you give me that?" he asked, pointing to a wee blue bow on my -sleeve. - -I unpinned it, and laid it in his hand. He fastened it to the front of -his coat. He strutted a little as he went into the parlor. I could see -by his smile that he was pleased. - -It was my turn now, and I must call a little boy, for that was what all -the girls did. I looked in the parlor, undecidedly. There was the stout -boy going by with a cheerful wink, and away in the back of the room a -nice little fairhaired boy named Eddie was watching me, wistfully. I -called Eddie, with sudden fearlessness. He came with a rush, and closed -the door behind him. Then he kissed me before I could say a single word! -I pushed him away, and began to cry. Even through my bitter tears I -could see his astonished face. How was he to know that all my life I had -hated to be kissed by strangers. And now by a boy! - -"Why, that's the game!" he cried, eagerly. "What did you call me out -for?" - -"I don't know," I answered, sobbing. - -He gazed at me with a worried look. Then he pulled out a fat, white -lozenge from his vest pocket, and offered it to me. - -"Here, take that," he said, generously. - -I examined it through my tears with strong disfavor. It looked like -medicine. Still I did not want to hurt his feelings. I ate it with -misgivings. - -"That's right," he said, radiantly. "They are good for sore throat. My -father takes them. Don't you feel better now?" - -"Yes," I answered, with a weak smile. - -It was evident that in his way he meant to be kind, and, perhaps, after -all the lozenge like the kiss might be a part of the game. - -They were dancing in the parlor when we went back, and the fun was -growing loud and furious. One little girl was singing, rapturously, as -she danced, and two little boys were sliding in a corner. There was -talk of supper. Somebody, peeking through a keyhole, had seen pink -ice-cream, and had come away dazzled. The great hour was drawing near, -and little boys were going about looking for their partners. Up at the -end of the room Theodore's mother was talking to him. - -He came to me afterwards, with a crest-fallen air: - -"Say," he said, "I can't take you out to supper. I have to take my -cousin. She says so." - -He looked back over his shoulder, threateningly. - -"What she says now, goes. When I'm a man things will be different. Ain't -you sorry I can't take you out?" - -"Yes," I confessed, candidly. - -He seemed to be glad that I should be sorry. - -"He's going to take you out," he continued, with a jealous nod at the -stout boy. "She asked him to." - -I did not want to go with the stout boy. Every time that he looked -sidewise at me I felt a sudden fear. Suppose that it should be a trick! -Suppose that he should think of something new to do right now! When the -inspiring march began, however, and we all fell into line, each little -girl on the arm of her partner, I forgot everything in my excitement, -and grew almost reconciled. - -We passed solemnly around the parlor three times, and then swept across -the hall into an opposite room. In the center of the room there stood a -beautiful table, and the woman in the white cap, who was the only grown -person in sight, was serving out pink ice-cream. The little girls sat on -chairs about the walls, and the little boys brought them plates full of -goodies from the table. There were lovely things which I had never seen -before, much too pretty to eat, and almost too fragile to touch. And -over the whole room there fell the soft light of candles. - -"Do you like ice-cream?" the stout boy asked, when he had seen me -settled in my chair. "I tell you what I'll do. I'll pick out all the -things that I like." - -He was a wonderful provider. I could see him heaping up my plate, and he -always seemed to take the best of everything. No other girl was going to -have such mammoth slices of cake as I, and he had a perfect pyramid of -candy in his hand. I knew that I could never eat it all, no, not a half. -Somehow he did not seem able to find me afterwards. I beckoned to him, -but still he turned aside, and went toward a far corner. He was sitting -down! He was going to eat the things himself! Was it a trick? I looked -down hard in my lap. Never, no, never, should he make _me_ cry out loud -at a party! - -I heard a sudden sound of wrath. I turned around just in time to see -Theodore Otway tip the stout boy over on the floor, and sit on him. He -seemed to be very angry. He pounded the stout boy. I was almost afraid -to look. The woman in the white cap left off serving pink ice-cream, and -made a dreadful outcry. - -"Oh, Master Theodore," she cried, wringing her hands. "Oh, Master -Theodore! You mustn't do that! It's not polite!" - -A little boy cheered faintly, and in the next room, where the older -people were having their supper, there was a hurried consultation. Then -Mrs. Otway came in. - -"What is all this?" she asked, in astonishment, looking as if she could -not believe her eyes. "Theodore!" - -She caught him by the arm, and dragged him up in a hurry. - -"For shame!" she cried. "What a way to treat your company! I'm going to -put you right straight to bed." - -A shudder ran around the room, and we all looked at one another in -horror. To be put to bed at a party! There was a disgrace. - -"I don't care," Theodore retorted, recklessly, with tears in his eyes. -"I'd do it again any day. He's a greedy pig!" - -I stole up and slipped my hand in his. Somehow I did not like to see him -cry. - -"He was eating that little girl's supper," a chorus of eager little boys -explained. "He was eating it all up!" - -"I wasn't either," the stout boy declared, hastily. "I was only -pretending." He dusted off his knees, and looked around the incredulous -circle. "I tell you I was only pretending. I was going to bring it to -her all right afterwards." - -Nobody believed him, not even I, for had I not seen him eating the pink -ice-cream? - -"You had better come with me," Mrs. Otway said, laughingly. "Come. You -can finish your supper in the next room." - -It was very pleasant after she had taken him away. Every one was so good -to me. There were lots of nice things left on the table, and Theodore -filled the largest plate that he could find. Other little boys stood -around to watch me eat, and gave me presents. One gave me his jackknife, -and one gave me a penny which he had brightened to gold by rubbing it on -the carpet. When we went back in the parlor there were dozens and dozens -of little boys who wanted to dance with me. I could not tell whom to -choose. Then, in hardly a moment, Auntie May looked in the door, and I -knew that the party was over, and I must go home. - -I told Theodore good-bye last of all. - -"Good-bye," he said, slipping a little brass curtain-ring on my left -hand. "I'm coming back when I'm a man. Then we'll get married, and live -in a house. And I'll shoot rabbits for dinner. Would you like that?" - -"Yes," I answered, promptly. - -He surveyed me for an anxious moment. Our heads were very nearly on a -level. - -"Don't you grow too tall," he cautioned. - -"No," I promised, and was half-way to the door, when he caught me again -by the hand. - -"If anybody makes you cry," he whispered, ardently, "you write to me, -and I'll come back." - -I gave him a grateful smile. I knew that he would. - -Auntie May said very little as the carriage rolled along, but when, at -last, we reached home, she swept me in before the assembled family. - -"There were ten little boys telling her good-night," she cried, -breathlessly, in a voice divided between awe and delight. "Ten little -boys! Just fancy! Our Rhoda! She was a great success. She was the -prettiest one there." - -My mother put out a tender hand and drew me to her. - -"And did you have a good time at the party, Rhoda?" she asked, eagerly. -"A real good time, little girl?" - -I looked around the listening family circle. They were all watching me. -Yes, even my father over his paper. - -"I don't know," I answered, bashfully. - -"Of course she didn't," grandmother cried, nodding her head -triumphantly. "Of course she didn't. She's a Harcourt all over." - -I looked down at my little brass ring. I felt that grandmother was -wrong. - - - - -VII - -AUNTIE MAY - - -ALWAYS when I think of Auntie May, I remember sunshine, and the wind -blowing, and a lilac bush in purple bloom by the garden gate. We were -standing there together, very quiet and confidential, she, tall and -slim, and I a little girl who liked to cling to her hand. We had on our -best white dresses, for it was Sunday, and her church service was white -and violet, and mine was white and gold. We had parasols just alike, and -we stood waiting until the first boom rang out from the big bell in the -church tower far down the street. - -"Now we will go," Auntie May said. - -She opened the garden gate, and we passed out, very demurely. - -It was seldom that I went into the big world; but when I did I enjoyed -it so! The parasols cast a pleasant shade, and I had a big five-cent -piece in my right hand that meant church, and another clutched tightly -in my left that meant Sunday school. There were other family parties to -be met on the street, elderly ladies carrying Bibles, and little girls -and boys walking with careful precision, and down near where the big -bell boomed there was another church which commenced after ours did -where Burton Raymond played the violin. I could not remember when I had -not known Burton Raymond and his violin, for they were one person. - -"When Burton Raymond goes to bed," I had heard my mother say, "he always -puts the violin to bed, too." - -"In a bed, mother?" I demanded. - -"No. In a box by his bed, wrapped in his pocket handkerchief, poor -fellow." - -It was after this time that Auntie May embroidered an oddly shaped -velvet mat quite secretly. It had forget-me-nots on it, and when it was -finished she tied it up in a beautiful white paper, and slipped it in -the mail box down at the corner. And, once, months afterwards, when -Burton Raymond played one evening at our house, he put his violin to bed -in a velvet jacket just like the one which Auntie May had made. - -We were great friends. When we met down by the church steps he would -call to me, cheerfully. - -"Good-morning, Rhoda." - -"There he is, Auntie May!" I would cry. "Don't you see him? Look, Auntie -May!" - -Somehow, or other, although he never called to her, I always wanted her -to see him, too. - -He looked very pleasant in the bright sunshine. His hair was nicely -brushed, and his shoes were blacked. There was a patch on his right -elbow; but you could not see it unless you looked closely. There was -something noble in the way in which he carried his dark head. Somebody, -perhaps it was Norah, had told me that one of his ancestors had been a -great lord, back in the days when the lords were crusaders, and I liked -to think of Burton Raymond in chain armor killing people, recklessly. -Little Dick and I used to act it out sometimes in the dark end of the -hall. We killed a number of things there, Saracens, and lions, and -tigers, and the rocking-horse, and little Trixie, and would come in -quite breathless afterwards to the sitting room where the family sat in -the lamplight. Sometimes we found them talking about Burton Raymond. - -"Every time that I walk down our block I seem to meet Burton Raymond," -my father grumbled, one evening. "It's getting to be a nuisance. -Especially since May has been visiting here," he added, after a serious -moment's pause. - -"He passed the house fifteen times to-day," my mother said, quietly. - -She said it with a blush, and then, suddenly, she made an impulsive dive -at my father's hand and squeezed it. - -"We were young ourselves once!" she cried. - -"The lad hasn't a cent to bless himself with," grandmother demurred. - -"But he has genius!" my mother cried again. "There is a great future -opening before him. And when we were married we had very little, Robert. -There was just one small twenty-five cent piece left after the wedding -trip. Do you remember, Robert? And you spent it in flowers--for me! They -were roses. I have some of them dried yet." - -My mother's voice had sunk lower and lower, falling almost into a -whisper, as it always did when she was greatly moved. Sometimes I used -to fancy that my mother was not so clever as my father. He could add up -sums for you, and tell you about the presidents, and who were the -greatest generals in the world; but my mother knew quite different -things, the kind that stay with you forever. To her life was a poem and -a dream. She was her happiest when she could help somebody, so that for -any one to be poor, and very unfortunate, was an open sesame to her -heart. - -I heard a good deal about Burton Raymond that night, and when I went to -bed I asked a sudden question, staring with wide open eyes at my mother -over the white coverlet. - -"Mother, how poor is Burton Raymond?" - -She was taking away the light; but she came back again. - -"He is so poor," she said, dramatically, "that he lives in a garret -room at Widow Denton's. It is quite a cold room, without a fire, and the -bed is not soft like yours, Rhoda. He has a few books on the end of the -shelf by his violin box. He plays whenever he can get a chance. -Sometimes, perhaps, he is hungry! Yes, sometimes he is hungry!" - -I shivered. - -"But it's no sin to be poor, is it, mother?" I demanded, anxiously. "We -can love people who are poor?" - -She put down the light on the bureau before she answered me. - -"Money never bought the real things of life," she said, slowly. "To be -good and true is the greatest of all. It is sincerity that counts. And -when we see some one very noble, and very poor, we must help them, and -love them always. Yes, love them always!" - -She gave me a sudden kiss, and took the lamp away. - -I lay staring into the dark. I could see that garret room, and the -violin on the shelf, almost I could see Burton Raymond walking around, -very cold and poor, perhaps; but so lovable, yes, so lovable, that -poverty seemed the very highest distinction. I made up a long story -about him all by myself. He had a great fortune left him, and grew into -a lord again, and married Auntie May long before I went to sleep. - -But there was another side to the picture. - -"It's the cheek that himself has to be coming after our young lady," -Norah declared. "A lad out of a butter and eggs shop! Is it fitting for -the likes of him to lift his eyes to her?" - -"Who, Norah?" I asked, breathlessly. - -She was washing clothes with her sleeves rolled to the elbow. First her -hands went down into the water with a rush, and then they came up again, -and she rubbed something white on a board, amid a snowy froth of suds -that was good to look upon. Norah was an authority on washing, and she -was, also, an authority on love. Sometimes she would toss back the stray -locks from her face, and sing as she scrubbed with a naive abandon that -would bring grandmother to the scene in a hurry: - - "I'm jist siventeen, - And I've niver had a beau." - -Norah sang at the top of her strong voice accenting each line with great -enjoyment. - - "Is there any gint will have me? - Ah, don't say no!" - -The last phrase was coaxing in the extreme, and I might have been -properly impressed if I had not known that Norah was quite old, -twenty-five almost, and that down in the very bottom of her trunk there -was the picture of a wild Irish lad whom she had loved and left in the -old country. Sometimes I used to dream that he would come to America, -too, and get rich notwithstanding his wildness, and find Norah out, and, -just suppose, he might make a great lady out of her! Life was full of -such glorious possibilities in those days! - -But to go back to the story. - -"Why it's Burton Raymond," Norah explained, in disconnected jerks. "And -his uncle keeps the shop. A small, dark shop with eggs in the window. -And there's mice under the counter, the freshest mice that I've iver -seen. It's like household pets that they be! And Burton waits on the -customers. And at night he fiddles to himself. But there's no money in -fiddling. Sure I knew a lad in Ireland wance that fiddled for tuppence a -night. And he died of starvation, and wint to glory, rest be to his -sowl." - -She stopped to hold up a small wet garment with indignant hands. - -"How did you iver git them black stains?" she demanded. - -"I don't know, Norah," I answered, meekly. - -After that I was divided in spirit about Burton Raymond. There was the -part of me that gloried in the crusader, and even found something -romantic in starvation, and the other part that winced at the butter and -eggs shop. - -The lovers were very pretty to watch. Burton Raymond went up and down -our street a great many times every day, and Auntie May always seemed to -be out in the garden looking at the flowers. She was growing tall -herself, like one of the plants. All her soft hair was gathered upon the -top of her head, and she never ran about as she used to do. She had -forgotten how to be a little girl. She changed her dress a great many -times a day, and she bought a band of velvet ribbon to wear around her -throat, and sometimes she would catch me in a dark corner, and hug me, -rapturously. - -"The saints preserve me from iver being in love!" Norah cried, shaking -her head. "What will the owld gintlemin say? And the owld lady?" - -The old gentleman was my granddad Lawrence, who lived around the corner -in a big house that outshone ours as the sun does the moon. There were -more flowers there and more trees, and a fat horse in the stable that -drew a little dog-cart about the streets of our town, and best of all -there was a fountain in the garden, where two little iron boys stood -under an iron umbrella, and watched the birds that came to take their -baths in the pool at their feet. Just now, however, the house was all -closed up, granddad and grandmother were away, the fountain in the -garden was quite choked and dusty, and the birds had found another place -to bathe. - -Grandmother Lawrence was my worldly grandmother, and when she was at -home we tried to live in as good style as possible that she might be -pleased with us. Always it had been a sorrow to her that my mother had -married a poor man, and she was quite resolved that no such catastrophe -should happen to Auntie May. - -"I would rather see May dead," I have heard her declare dramatically, -"yes, dead at my feet, than married to a poor man!" - -She never said this when my father was around; but he knew as well as -the rest of us that Auntie May was destined for great things. - -She was so pretty, Auntie May was. Sometimes she let me stay in her room -when she did her hair before the glass, and I would handle its soft -lengths fondly. - -"Auntie May," I asked once, peeping over her shoulder into the mirror, -"may I be your bridesmaid?" - -First she flushed up and laughed, and then she leaned back in the chair, -and gazed at me, wretchedly. - -"Rhoda," she said, "I am the most miserable girl in the whole world!" - -That was the day that grandmother and granddad Lawrence came home, and -there was a stir all through their big house and our little one, and -Auntie May was back in her own room, surrounded by all the pretty things -that were particularly hers. She looked around it, consideringly. There -were roses on the carpet, and roses on the big arm-chairs, and roses -climbed up the walls and fell in festoons about the ceiling. There was a -white fur rug in front of the fire-place, and a silver glitter on the -bureau. Auntie May looked at it all in quite a discontented fashion. - -"I like things plainer," she said, plaintively. - -Her lip trembled. - -"I'd like a garret--and bare floors--and music!" she cried. - -"What is that about music?" grandmother Lawrence questioned, coming in -the door. - -She had a string of pearls in her hand, and she fastened it around -Auntie May's throat as she spoke. It was a present brought from abroad. - -"There, child," she said, not unkindly, "wear your pearls and be happy, -and don't let us have any more of this nonsense." - -"Nonsense!" Auntie May exclaimed. - -"Yes, nonsense," grandmother Lawrence repeated, coldly. - -Auntie May's eyes flashed. - -"Do you think you can pay me to give him up?" she asked, in growing -indignation. "Do you think that I care about pearls? Do you think that I -care about anything--but just him?" - -She had risen to her feet, and was confronting grandmother. - -"Let me be happy in my own way," she pleaded, with soft appeal. "Mother, -let me be happy!" - -I thought that for just a moment grandmother weakened; but it was only -for a moment. - -"Happy with a beggar!" she retorted. "Never!" - -The pearls went down on the floor in a sudden shower. - -"Then I'll never be happy in all my life!" Auntie May answered, in a -broken voice. - -After that it seemed as if there was a heavy cloud over the whole -family. We were none of us as cheerful as we used to be, not one, and -people spoke in whispers as they do when some one is very sick. And -Auntie May cried! She cried until her pretty eyes were red, and all her -soft hair was tousled and damp from much mourning. And my mother cried -with her. It was a terrible time. - -We children had talked the matter over among ourselves, and we all sided -with Auntie May. Every night little Dick prayed an extra clause to his -long prayer. It came right after the place where he prayed for puppies. - -"Please, God, let me have two puppies," he asked, in a loud, decided -tone. "One brown one, and one white one with brown spots and a brown -tail. And, please, God, bless Auntie May, and send her a new beau." - -One night he made another announcement. - -"Please, God, you needn't bother about Auntie May's beau. When I grow up -I'll marry her myself." - -"You shan't!" little Trixie cried, in sudden wrath, from the next crib. -"When I grow up I'm going to marry her _myself_." - -She bounced in her bed. - -Dick answered her from his knees. He looked like an angel as he knelt -there in his nightgown, with his fair curls falling about his flushed -face. - -"Girls can't marry girls," he explained, scornfully. - -"They can!" Trixie screamed. - -"They can't!" Dick roared. - -He picked up one of his little shoes by the side of the bed, and threw -it at Trixie. There was an immediate wail from the next crib. Dick was -always a good shot. - -"Oh, children, children!" my mother cried, in despair. "Dick, go to -sleep this moment. Trixie, Trixie, dear, you are not really hurt." - -"But her feelings are, mother," I protested. - -I knew that the littlest things hurt just as much as the big. - -My mother settled down, disconsolately, in her rocking chair, with a -small, weeping burden in her arms, and rocked and sang. - -"This is a dreadful family," she said, in between verses. "There is -always a fuss." - -As for Dick he made one more triumphant discovery before he finally -subsided for the night. - -"Girls are soft things," he declared, jealously, from his crib. "They -are! They are!" - -"Dick!" my father called from downstairs, "you stop that!" - -Which settled the subject for the time being. - -There was just one person in the family who was not upset, and that was -my grandmother Harcourt. She read her Bible as usual, and watched us -with grave eyes. She watched grandmother Lawrence buying pretty dresses -by the dozen for Auntie May, and scolding violently, because they were -not worn, and she watched granddad going about, with a perplexed face -and a heavy heart, and even my own father laboriously concocting funny -stories at which nobody laughed. When grandmother spoke her remarks were -oracular. - -"Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder," she said, -with dignity. - -And one day when things were at their very worst, and Auntie May had -come to our house, "to cry in peace," as she said, grandmother Harcourt -laid a small white note in her hand. - -"Go out in the garden, dear," she said, impressively. "Behind the lilac -bush. Quick!" - -Away flew Auntie May, and I after her. - -Now behind the lilac bush was my own particular domain. It was where I -made my little mudpies in beautiful clam shells, and once I had had a -caterpillar colony there, all pretty brown and yellow ones, and some few -with neat tufted backs and red whiskers. And Jeremiah John, the -wandering turtle, lived there. But no grown-up person ever ventured -behind the lilac bush, so it was a surprise to find Burton Raymond, with -cobwebs on his coat and a pale face, waiting for us. - -"You!" Auntie May cried. - -She said it almost in a shriek. She put her arms about him and clung to -him. - -"You!" she said again, with infinite content. - -They didn't appear to mind me in the least, and they nearly killed -Jeremiah John, who had gone to sleep in the sun. - -Burton Raymond had seemed frightened at first; but when he saw how -Auntie May cried and clung to him, his head went up, and his eyes grew -dark, and he looked every inch a crusader. They talked together in -whispers. He was persuading her to do something. - -"Oh, no, no!" she cried. - -She looked down at her clothes. - -"What! In this dress!" she exclaimed, hotly. - -He whispered again, and little by little she stopped shaking her head, -and grew a trifle rosy and confused, and, at last, it seemed to me that -she said, "yes." It must have been something very terrible to which she -had agreed, for she faltered afterwards, and had to be encouraged some -more. Then she picked a bunch of the lilacs and pinned it in her belt, -and they went on toward the gate together. Her hand was on the latch -before she remembered me. - -"Oh, there's Rhoda!" she said. - -Her eyes questioned mine, anxiously. - -"Will you come, too, Rhoda?" she asked. - -Somehow I felt that she would be glad to have one of the family with -her, so I went. - -Of course I knew that it was an elopement. Auntie May was running away, -just like a princess in a fairy tale! I knew whole pages and pages of -fairy tales, and I had always liked the ones best where the princess ran -away; but I had never expected to be in a fairy tale myself. The sun was -so bright, and the air was golden with mystery. The gate shut with a -soft click. I felt that it would never betray us. It was very exciting -afterwards. We turned around a corner, and there was a horse and buggy -waiting for us in quite a magical fashion, and in a moment we were in -and off. - -"Oh, make him go fast, Burton," Auntie May prayed. - -She was frightened again. - -"Oh, make him go very fast!" she cried. - -The houses whisked past us. The people in the streets looked at us, -strangely, and one old man, a lifelong friend of my grandfather's, ran -out to the curb, and held up his cane, imperatively, for us to stop. On -we went, with a clatter and a bounce, right through the town, and out -into the quiet country beyond, where there were daisies in the fields, -and cows to regard us with astonishment, and dogs to bark as we went -along. We were all quite pale by now, I fancy, and wild-eyed. At least -the prince and the princess were, and they held hands as if they had -been lost and had found each other. And, then, away off in the distance -I saw the steeple of a tiny church. It grew taller and taller. - -Always when I had thought of being Auntie May's bridesmaid, I had -expected to wear a white dress and carry flowers, and walk right down -the aisle with all the golden and red and blue ladies in the church -windows watching me; but now when the time came I concluded that I liked -this new way best of all. The minister was out in his front yard when we -drove up, and I thought that he looked at our bridal party rather -pityingly. And I also thought that he considered us a joke. We walked up -to him trembling, and stood about the bed which he was digging. - -"We'd like to be married, sir," Burton announced, awkwardly. - -The minister regarded us all through big, benevolent, silver-rimmed -spectacles. He left off his digging to smile at us. He had a geranium in -one hand, and a shovel in the other. - -"I thought you were a christening party," he said. - -He pointed his shovel at me. - -"Who's that?" he demanded, beaming. - -"I'm the bridesmaid," I told him. - -Then I felt a sudden confidence in him. I pulled at his sleeve. - -"They're running away," I confided, anxiously. "Won't you marry them? If -you don't poor Auntie May will never be married at all!" - -"We've only got a few moments' start, sir," Burton explained, -breathlessly. "There's a carriage after us. Listen!" - -Far in the direction of town we could hear the sound of coming wheels. -While we listened they seemed to redouble their speed. - -"Oh, if you'd please hurry, sir!" Auntie May begged, in a panic. -"They'll take me home again! I know they will. Oh, what shall I do! What -shall I do!" - -She looked about with wild eyes as though for somewhere to hide. - -The minister himself seemed to catch fire a bit at that, and he did -hurry. He had us all in the parsonage parlor in a moment, and went off -upstairs calling for "Dora." He was back again immediately in his -surplice, with his wife following him, and there, standing before a -sunny window, the wilted lilacs still pinned in her belt, Auntie May -became Mrs. Burton Raymond. - -She looked so pretty! Her eyes were full of tears, and her cheeks were -pink. She trembled a little still from agitation. After it was all over -she turned to Burton, and held out her hands to him in a frightened way. - -"You'll be good to me?" she questioned. - -"Good!" Burton cried, with his arms about her. - -He looked as if he could dare the whole world in her defense. - -"If he isn't he'll have to answer to me," the minister declared, -stoutly. - -"And to me!" another voice cried, irately, and there was granddad -Lawrence stalking, unexpectedly, into the room. - -He was very much out of breath, and very angry. I don't believe that I -ever saw granddad Lawrence so angry before. For one moment I thought -that he was going to shake Burton; but after a bit he calmed down, and -we all went home together, the bridal couple in their buggy in advance, -and granddad and I behind in the dog-cart. Granddad seemed very -sorrowful, and, at last, he unburdened his mind to me. - -"This is all very well, Rhoda," he said, in a rueful fashion. "But who's -going to break the news to your grandmother!" - -He took off his hat, and rumpled up his gray hair until it stood up -like quills all over his head. - -"Who's going to tell _her_?" he asked, blankly. - -It worried us both all the way home; but the question was settled in -quite an unexpected manner, for it was grandmother Harcourt who went to -tell grandmother Lawrence. She put on her best black silk, and her lace -veil, and her cameo pin, and she held up her head very high in the air -as she went out of the front gate. - -"I shall tell her a few wholesome truths," she said, determinedly. "I -shall speak as woman to woman." - -"It is really not so bad after all," my father told my mother. "They -talk of a concert tour for the boy, and he comes of a good old family, -if it _has_ fallen on evil times." - -He paused for a moment, his eyes searching the future. - -"And if your father runs for mayor--I don't say that he will, but if he -should be persuaded to run--why, that story would bring him in a great -many votes. It's so pretty and romantic. All the world loves a lover you -know." - -My mother sighed blissfully, and motioned to him to peep in the parlor -door. - -There in the darkest corner sat Auntie May and Burton Raymond on a sofa -together. They sat and looked at each other for hours and hours and -hours. - - - - -VIII - -THE GREEN DOOR - - -"OF all the childer I've iver seen he's the worst," Norah cried. "He's -as sharp as tacks, and as bad as a young magpie." - -She had come into the sitting room, and stood regarding my mother at her -sewing. - -"What is the matter, Norah?" my mother demanded, anxiously. - -"It's Dick, ma'am. What else should it be? Ain't I been after making a -grand gingerbread for your lunch? And ain't he under your own bed this -blessed moment?" - -She paused for breath, almost crying, and wringing her hands. - -"He's eating the whole of it!" she exclaimed. - -"What, a whole gingerbread?" my mother repeated, evidently startled. - -"Yes, ma'am. I've been poking at him with a broom; but it's no use." - -There was a quick procession up to my mother's room, my mother leading -it, with her head thrown up in wrath, then little Trixie and I -hand-in-hand, and Norah following behind us to see justice done. The -room was dark and orderly; but there was a curious shuffling sound under -the bed. - -"Dick!" my mother cried. "Come out of there! Dick! Do you hear what I -say? Richard!" - -When my mother said "Richard" things were apt to be pretty serious. - -Little Dick crawled out from under the bed very reluctantly. He was red -and sticky; but he had a happy expression as if he had been having -rather a good time. He brought a tin plate with him, and it was quite -empty. There was not even so much as a crumb in it. My mother looked at -him in horror, and grandmother, who had been attracted by the noise, -looked at him, too, over my mother's shoulder, with strong -disapprobation. - -"If he were my son," she said, distinctly, "I'd give him a good -thrashing. He richly deserves it." - -It was a dreadful moment. Little Trixie and I stared at the scene -fascinated, while my mother wavered between justice and mercy. When she -finally spoke her voice was very cold and severe. - -"I don't know what I ever did to have such a son," she said. "After this -I am not going to be his mother any longer. I shall call him Master -Richard, as if he were a stranger, and he shall call me Mrs. Harcourt. -Nothing else." - -Trixie and I held each other closer. It was a terrible sentence. To be a -stranger in one's own home! And not to have any mother! Little Dick's -red, childish cheeks paled, and he looked frightened. He made a hurried -movement forward, and caught hold of my mother's dress. - -"Oh, mother!" he cried, beseechingly. - -"Go away, Master Richard," she commanded. "I am not your mother." - -"Oh, please, Mrs. Harcourt," Dick wailed. "Oh, please, Mrs. Harcourt, -let me call you mother!" - -But my mother was inexorable. She pushed away his hands, and walked out -of the room, leaving him behind. They all went away, she, and -grandmother, and Norah, and even little Trixie. I was the only one who -remained. - -I was very sorry for Dick, and I wanted to hug him badly. But I did not -quite dare. Dick never liked anybody to hug him, and it was very seldom -that he cried. He dug his fists into his eyes for a moment, and then he -took them away, and looked at me, gloomily. - -"All right," he said. "If she ain't my mother I ain't her little boy!" - -Then he walked into the next room which was his own, and went down into -the bottom bureau drawer, and got out a box with a red lining. In it was -his Waterbury watch. That was the most valuable thing that Dick -possessed. He always took it to bed with him at night, and he wound it -up in the mornings, and sometimes, when he didn't mean to play very -hard, sometimes he wore it. He put it on now, and he put two clean -handkerchiefs in his pocket, and his knife, and a red ball, and the knob -off the machine drawer, and two rubber bands, and a wish-bone, and the -little box out of a doll that makes her cry, and the stopper of a -cologne bottle. And he opened his missionary box, and fished out ten -pennies,--the ones which he was saving to educate a native child in -India. When I saw that I knew that things were very serious. I went up -close to him and touched him. - -"Dick," I said. "Dick! What are you going to do? Oh, Dick!" - -I said it timidly, for although little brother Dick was only six, and I -was nine, he was nearly as big as I was. And he was always masterful. -But he didn't repulse me this time, so I kissed him on his ear, and -rubbed my head against his shoulder, just to let him know that I loved -him. Somehow I thought that he would like to be loved just then. And -wonder of wonders he rubbed back! - -"When I come home--" Dick said. "When I'm a rich man, sister, I'll buy -you some nice things. I'll buy you some candy, and a pretty dress. And -I'll buy you some guinea-pigs! I guess you'd like to have some -guinea-pigs, wouldn't you, sister?" - -I didn't care a rap for guinea-pigs, but I nodded at him just to comfort -him. I felt that I should like an elephant if Dick bought it. - -"And we'll build a nice house for them in the backyard," Dick went on, -evidently cheering up at the prospect. "Under the walnut-tree. And -there'll be fathers and mothers and sisters and brothers, and little -weany, weany ones, all white and pink!" - -"But where are you going, Dick?" I demanded. - -His face fell. - -"I'm going through the Green Door," he said, doggedly. - -"Oh!" I breathed, in alarm. - -Now there was a long, high fence behind our house where the -morning-glory vines climbed up and still up, and then fell in beautiful -showers of purple and pink blossoms, and just in the very center of the -fence where the vines were the thinnest there was a door,--a bright, -green door, with a massive lock, and a huge key, and two great iron -hinges. None of us children knew what lay on the other side; but there -was something secret-looking about that door, as if it might lead into -Bluebeard's house, or out into fairy lanes and meadows. Once, a good -while ago, little Dick had climbed up to the top and looked over. Then -he came down again in a scramble. - -"What did you see, brother?" I quavered. - -"The black people!" he replied, in a whisper. - -He caught hold of my apron, and we both stood listening. It seemed to -me that I could hear some one singing in the distance, a queer, elfish -sort of a song, and once a step passed along outside the gate,--a -loitering step. - -"Run, sister, run!" Dick cried. - -He caught me by the hand in sudden panic, and we both fled back to the -house together, and we never went near the Green Door for whole days and -days. - -I remembered all this now, and I felt sorry for Dick. I think that Dick -felt sorry for himself, for he looked around the bedroom almost -wistfully when he went away. And he didn't slide down the banisters as -he usually did, but walked downstairs, step by step, very slowly, and -paused by the sitting room door. My mother was talking inside in quite a -happy fashion. There was the buzz of the sewing-machine, and a murmur of -conversation between her and grandmother, and once when she came to the -end of a seam, once the machine stopped, and my mother laughed. When -Dick heard that he went on down the hall with his head up; but he came -to a halt in the dark corner to hug the hobby-horse, and he cut off a -bit of its white mane, and put the piece carefully away in his pocket. -Dick was always very fond of the hobby-horse. - -"Good-bye, old fellow, good-bye," he said. "Don't forget me, -Alcibiades." - -Alcibiades pranced a little, but he did not say anything. - -I was the one who spoke. I had been feeling pretty bad for sometime; but -now I couldn't stand it any longer. To see dear little brother Dick go -out into the world alone! Never to have any brother any more! I threw my -arms about him from the other side of the hobby-horse. - -"Dick," I cried, tearfully. "Oh, please, Dick, don't go away! Take me -with you, won't you, Dick?" - -"Will you go, too, sister?" Dick demanded, eagerly. - -I nodded at him. - -"We won't never come back," he cautioned. - -I stole a look down the hall, the dear, familiar hall. - -"All right, Dick," I said, with a gulp. - -Nobody noticed us as we slipped down the path to the Green Door, not -even Norah, who was singing in the kitchen. The hinges squeaked, and the -gate came open with a rumble. It almost seemed as if my mother must -know! We pulled it to behind us in a hurry, and stepped out into the -world. We held each other tight. - -It was very different on the other side of the wall from our side. There -were no flowers there, and no vines. There was a street with small, -mean houses, and great piles of clam shells, and a goat or two running -about at a distance, and some very dirty ducks going home in single -file. Away down the square there was a great red building, with smoke -pouring out of its many chimneys, and here and there walking about the -street, and standing at the doors, were the black people--not black in -any true sense of the word, but grimed with the smut of those who labor -in iron works. - -It was a dreadful place. We stood outside the gate, flattened against -the fence, looking into the street, and afraid to venture any farther. - -Almost, however, in the first moment we found a friend. She was quite a -small woman, with an anxious expression, and she gazed at us in a hungry -way. She had an old plaid shawl drawn loosely over her head, and a -little bundle of shoe-strings dangled from her hand. She had the -prettiest, brightest red cheeks that I had ever seen, and her hair was a -wonderful yellow color, like a doll's. But somehow there was something -about her that I did not quite like. - -She had been walking along the street, but when she saw us she stopped -suddenly. - -"How do you do, ma'am?" she said. "And how do you do, master?" - -We clung together a little tighter, and answered her politely. - -"Pretty well, I thank you," we said in a chorus, just as our mother had -taught us to do to strangers. - -"Wouldn't you like to take a little walk with me?" she asked, -pleasantly. "Just a block or two? To see my house? And my little girl?" - -We were not dressed to go visiting. I had on a brown gingham apron to -play in, and Dick had on one, too, over his knickerbockers. I began to -tell her about it, but she cut me short. - -"As if that mattered!" she cried. "My God! And my baby! Come, dears. -Come! My little girl is sick. It would be a Christian charity to come to -see her." - -She looked at us almost beseechingly. - -"Oh, what can I say to get them to come!" she exclaimed, in a piteous -fashion. - -Dick unclasped my hand and went up to her sturdily. - -"I'm not afraid," he said. "I'll go with you. Come, sister." - -Of course if Dick went I had to go, too, for he was the smaller. I -started with a reluctant step. - -"That's the little lady!" the woman cried, exultingly. - -Our way lay down the block, and then straight away to the right through -a network of dirty lanes where the houses were crowded together, -leaning up against one another as though for support. In some places the -rain had dripped from the roofs into sloppy pools on the ground, and the -path was rough with fallen bricks and mortar. The woman was very careful -of us. She showed us the cleanest way, and when the goats came too near -she stood in between them and us, and shooed them off. And, at last, we -came to a house, old and battered, with very rickety front steps and -windows stuffed with rags; that was her home. - -There was a stout woman going up the steps with a pail of soapy water in -her hand who stopped to regard us. - -"Where did you get them kids, Becky Dean?" she demanded. - -"That's my business," our new friend cried, fiercely. - -She seemed to bristle with rage. - -"Well, I hope there's no harm in it," the other replied, curtly, -continuing on her way. - -We went up and up three flights of long, shaky steps to a little room -under the eaves. It was very dark there,--so dark that at first I did -not notice a bed in a dim corner, and a child lying on it looking at us -with a pair of beautiful large eyes. She did not say a word, but just -lay and looked and looked. - -The woman sat down on the bed, and gathered the child to her tenderly. - -"See what I've brought you," she said, almost in a whisper, her cheek -pressed close against the cheek of the child. "See the nice little lady -and gentleman come to play with you. Come to play with my own little -Amy. Ain't you pleased with your mama, Amy? Ain't they nice?" - -The child lay and looked at us, and, at last, very slowly, she smiled. -Dick and I were both very bashful, but we smiled back at her from where -we stood by the side of the bed. The mother seemed greatly relieved. She -hunted about under her faded shawl, and brought out some sticks of -candy, the kind that taste of peppermint, and have beautiful red streaks -that run zigzag around them. She generously gave each of us one, and one -to the child. We all sucked in happy unison. But the child soon tired. -The stick of candy rolled out of her hand, unregarded, and she lay back -upon her mother with a faint, wailing cry. - -"Maybe she could play a game, if you know one," the mother urged, -anxiously. "Oh, for the love of heaven, think of a game!" - -"I know 'Little Sallie Waters,'" Dick declared, speaking for the first -time. - -So Dick and I played "Little Sallie Waters" together. It was hard work, -there being only two of us, but we went around and around in a solemn -circle, and sang the words earnestly, and when we came to the lines, - - "Rise, Sallie, rise, - Wipe out your eyes, - Fly to the East, - Fly to the West, - Fly to the very one - That you love best," - -we both kissed little Amy Dean, and she smiled at us again from her -mother's arms, where she had been watching us with her great, -mysterious, melancholy eyes. - -"Sure she's better," the woman cried, in a tone between laughter and -tears. "My own darlint! She's better! She's better already! They've done -her more good than the doctor. Sure, she was lonesome for the likes of -her own!" - -Her face shone. She looked as if she could hug us both from gratitude. - -"I've got a doll at home whose name is Amy," I announced, bashfully, -trying to make conversation. - -"That you have," the woman agreed, heartily. "And without doubts you'll -be bringing it for my little girl to see." - -"I'll bring her to-morrow," I promised. - -"Do you hear that, Amy?" the mother commented, happily. - -"And I've got a horse named Alcibiades," Dick added, in his turn. "He's -got red nostrils and a bushy tail. He prances. Like this." - -He gave a spirited portrayal of Alcibiades all around the room, ending -with a great whinny of delight. - -"Would you let wee Amy take a ride on the pretty horse?" the mother -inquired, persuasively. - -"Yes," Dick promised, with eager gallantry. "Dozens and dozens of -rides." - -"See there now!" the woman exclaimed. "Won't my Amy have a grand time -playing with the little lady and gentleman!" - -The child seemed pleased. She laid one little wasted arm about her -mother's neck in a loving way, and stretched out the other to us. I -almost thought that she tried to speak. Then she settled back again, and -her eyes gazed off far beyond us, through the roof of the mean house, -higher and higher, perhaps at greater joys and glories that were to be -hers forever. - -The woman caught the little form to her quickly. - -"Sing something else!" she cried, wildly. "Sing--" - -She hesitated a moment, rocking herself to and fro on the edge of the -bed with the child in her arms. - -"Couldn't you sing a hymn?" she whispered. "Couldn't you, dears?" - -Dick and I knew lots and lots of hymns. We always learned them on -Sundays to please our grandmother. We stood closer together, and sang -with full hearts, our voices rising up, clearly, shrilly, with childish -emphasis: - - "There's a Home for little children, - Above the bright blue sky, - Where Jesus reigns in glory, - A Home of peace and joy; - No home on earth is like it, - Nor can with it compare, - For everyone is happy, - Nor can be happier there." - -There was a sound of weeping in the room, but we sang on, earnestly, -line after line, just as we had played. - -Suddenly a hand was laid on each of our heads, and we looked up to see -an old priest standing by us. He motioned for us to be silent, and went -on to the corner where the child lay on the bed with the woman on her -knees beside her, her face buried in the tiny dress. - -"My daughter?" he said, inquiringly. - -The pretty gay head came up with a start. The red cheeks were disfigured -with weeping. - -"She's gone, father!" the woman cried. - -She dragged herself around, still on her knees, and laid her head -against his hand. - -"I've tried so hard to be good, father. Ever since you talked to me I've -tried and I've tried. You know I have. But it's no use. No use. -Everything goes wrong with me. And now my Amy's gone!" - -She burst into tears again, her words becoming incoherent from grief, -and sobbed wildly, her head falling back against the bed. - -"Where did these children come from?" the priest demanded, sternly. - -She explained through her tears. - -"I brought them here for Amy to play with. I thought-- You know how they -all look down on her here, father. She never had a playmate. I thought -if she were happier, if there were little friends of her own age about -her, that I might coax her back again, get her to stay with me for -awhile. I saw the two children standing at their gate. I only borrowed -them. Sure, I didn't mean them any harm." - -Her voice broke off again into sobs. - -It was Dick who created a diversion at this moment. He had been hunting -through his pockets, and now he brought out all his precious -things,--the knob off the machine drawer, the stopper of the cologne -bottle, the ten missionary cents that were to educate the native child -in India, even the Waterbury watch,--and laid them in a little pile on -the bed. He pulled the old priest's hand to attract his attention. - -"They're for her," he explained, with a nod at the bed. - -He half touched the watch, and drew his hand away again. - -"To keep," he persisted, bravely. "Tell her not to cry. Oh, tell her not -to cry!" - -But the woman cried only the harder. - -The old priest took us home very carefully, down the rickety steps, and -through the dirty courts and lanes, straight to the Green Door. All the -ferocious-looking black men whom we met stopped to speak to him, and he -ordered them about, with an air of authority, like so many small -children. On the way he asked us many questions, and I confided the -whole story to him, of how little brother Dick had been naughty, and had -eaten the gingerbread and had been disowned, and how we had started out -into the wide world together. Somehow I was glad that we hadn't gone any -farther. Somehow home seemed a nicer place now. It was so quiet and so -safe, with pleasant rooms, and a peaceful, sunny garden, and white, -comfortable beds, where we slept through the long nights, and kind faces -to smile on us, and love to surround us always. I cried a little as I -told him about it. - -"There is only one home, and one father and mother," the old priest -said, seriously. "Remember that. And be good children. The holy grace of -God be upon you, my dears." - -His kind hands hovered over our heads for a moment. - -He took us back into the yard, and locked the Green Door himself, and -went into the house to see my mother. He stayed a long, long while. - -Afterwards my mother came out into the garden, and kissed us both, with -all her old affection. Her face was very gentle, as if she, too, had -been crying. - -"Where is my little son?" she asked, breathlessly. - -But she had her arms around me as well as around Dick. - - - - -IX - -THE HIDDEN TALENT - - -CLOSE in a sheltered corner in our parlor there stood a bookcase. It had -two glass doors, and a brass key, and rows and rows of books that looked -out invitingly on the world, and seemed to say, "Come, read me." On the -bottom shelf of all there were children's books,--"The Child's History -of England," "Plutarch's Lives" in brown and gold, a green "Ivanhoe," a -red "Alice in Wonderland," and a fat blue book, "The Child's Own Book of -Fairy Tales," with rubbed corners, and loose leaves, and a crooked -signature on the front page that read, painstakingly, "Rhoda Harcourt." -These were my books, my dear, dear books, and with them comes a memory -of hours spent in a window-seat, of dusky evenings when the firelight -lit an absorbing page, and of elderly comment heard over my head. - -"How she reads!" my father said, enviously. "I was just like that when I -was a boy." - -"The child will have no eyes," my grandmother complained. - -"She must know them by heart," my mother added. - -I did know them pretty thoroughly, but when I tired of old friends I had -only to climb up a shelf higher to find new ones. "Japheth in Search of -a Father," "The Mill on the Floss," and "Les Miserables," stood just -above my head, and there were stories of children in all of these,--the -most entrancing stories that opened a window into a glorious golden -world of ideality and romance. It was such a wide world! People did -things there. They lived and loved, and when they died the event stamped -itself on my mind with a pathos that made me cry from sheer pity. - -"I wish Rhoda wouldn't read so many books," my mother said. "She excites -herself over them. She is so different from other children of her age!" - -She said it half complainingly and half exultingly. Somehow I knew that -my mother liked me to read, and that she liked me to be a little -different from other children. Sometimes she bragged about it in a mild -way to chance callers. - -"Rhoda reads the oddest things," I heard her tell two ladies. "When I -was a little girl I liked to read 'The Wide, Wide World,' but she likes -novels and histories." - -The older visitor glanced at me up in my corner. It was "Les -Miserables" that day, I remember, and their talk played on the surface -of my mind while my heart was busy with Cosette. - -"Does she go to school?" she asked. - -"No," my mother faltered. - -The ladies looked at each other. - -"What! At her age! Why, who teaches her?" they demanded, in a shocked -chorus. - -"I do myself--sometimes," my mother answered, still falteringly. - -"Take my advice," the visitor with the black eyes said, decisively, "and -send that child to school. Why it's a shame! It isn't fair to the -child." - -"When she grows up she will regret it," the one with the tight mouth -added. - -"She isn't strong," my mother explained. "We have kept her at home on -that account; but I suppose, yes, I suppose, that she ought to go to -school." - -She looked at me a moment in a worried fashion, and then brightened, a -trifle of her old pride returning. - -"She has the greatest stock of general information," she confided, -whisperingly. "She astonishes me sometimes. She does, indeed." - -The two ladies shook their heads. - -"I don't approve of children knowing too much," the one with the black -eyes cried. - -"And novels!" the other breathed, evidently appalled. - -After they were gone my mother took the book out of my hand, and read a -page or two of it in a frightened way. She smoothed my hair, and looked -at me anxiously. - -"Why do you like this book, Rhoda?" she asked. - -"Because it's about a little girl, mother," I answered. - -I crept a little closer to her. - -"She hadn't any mother," I explained, eagerly. "And a man gave her a -beautiful doll, and one night, just think, he put a gold coin in her -shoe! She was so surprised! Oh, mother, how I wish I could have been -there! I do! I do!" - -"Is that all, Rhoda?" - -I nodded. - -"I have always been a good mother to you, haven't I, Rhoda?" - -I rubbed my head against her arm, and kissed her hand. - -"At least I've tried to be!" my mother cried. "And now I am going to do -something that perhaps you won't like; but you may understand some day, -dear. I am going to put this book back into the bookcase, and I am going -to lock the door. It is not to be opened until I give you leave." - -"It isn't my fault, is it, mother?" I asked, perplexed. - -"No, it is not your fault. It's only that I want to keep my little girl -just the same in heart and mind as she has always been." - -She put the book back on the shelf, and she locked the door; but she did -not take away the brass key. She knew and I knew that I would never -touch it. - -But, oh, how I longed for my dear books! I used to creep to the door and -look in at them, and it seemed to me that they appeared lonesome. I -finished out the story of Cosette to suit myself, and I made stories -likewise for the books which I did not know. There was one remarkable -thing about my stories, and that was that nobody ever died; but they all -lived happy forever and ever. Even when my mother read the Bible to me -on Sunday nights after I was in bed I used to sit up anxiously, and pray -her to end the stories in my way. - -"Oh, don't let the lions eat poor Daniel!" I would cry. "Oh, mother, -mother, don't let them eat him up!" - -"Why it happened centuries ago, dear," my mother answered, half -laughing. - -"But I can see it," I protested. "I can see it right now!" - -It was so hard to see things going wrong, and not to be able to help! - -It was about this time that my mother and I did a great many lessons -together, and she would offer me odd bits of useful information at -unexpected moments. - -"Rhoda is not very well grounded," she told my father, "but I do think, -Robert, that she knows a great deal for a child of ten." - -She was darning stockings as she spoke, and she turned over a very -ragged one of Dick's with a little sigh. - -"I would like her to go to school. Not to the public school, but to a -young ladies' seminary as I did. Don't you think, Robert, if I were to -do without a new winter coat, and we made the old carpet on the stairs -last a little longer, that we might send Rhoda to Mrs. Garfield's?" - -Her face was brightening as she thought it out. - -"And there's the money in her bank," she cried, "her gold pieces that -dad has given her on her birthdays and on Christmas. I don't suppose, -Robert, you'd want dad to pay for it all? He would, willingly." - -"No," my father answered. - -My mother's face fell, and then lit up again. - -"You are a ridiculously proud boy," she declared, fondly. "Well, at any -rate, we can save my coat and the carpet." - -I wanted to go to school very badly. Every day at half past ten there -was a procession past our house of thirty little girls walking two and -two. They all looked happy and important, and I thought how wonderful it -might be if I should join their ranks. - -Norah, who was always sympathetic, read my fortune in a teacup out in -the kitchen that night to see what might be going to happen. - -"There's a change coming to you," she said, mysteriously. "There's a -fair woman, a widdy by the looks of her, and water to cross, and much -money. Sure you'll be gitting so grand that you'll be forgitting your -poor old Norah." - -I put my arms around her to reassure her. - -"I'll never forget you, Norah," I promised. - -"Won't you then?" she cried, much pleased. - -"No. And, Norah, listen! All that I learn I shall teach you myself!" - -"Sure there's a great day coming for both of us," Norah agreed. - -I shall never forget that day, the start in the early sunshine, the -stiff ruffled apron that I wore, and my mother leading me along the -street by the hand. She was just as much excited as I was, and when we -came to the door of a large white house, with a brass plate saying, -"Mrs. Garfield's Select School for Girls and Young Ladies," she stopped -a moment before she rang the bell to rearrange my hair, and give me a -private hug. - -"Don't forget your seven times!" she whispered, warningly. - -I was too far gone for reply, but I nodded, blindly, at her through a -mist of tears, unexpected tears, for somehow or other I suddenly seemed -to be leaving my old life behind me, and to be going into a strange -country. - -It was very quiet in the white house. There were a great many rooms, -and a subdued hum of recitation. A clock in the hall ticked loudly. My -mother and I sat on two lonely chairs in the reception room and waited. -I remember that there was a large piece of white coral on the floor in -front of the pierglass. It had exactly thirty-seven points. And there -was a motto neatly framed on the wall. "The Good Child Makes the Careful -Mother." By and by there was a rustle of silk in the doorway, and Mrs. -Garfield was shaking hands with us. She was a fair, pleasant-looking -lady. She shook hands with my mother first, and then with me. She gazed -at me, very closely and attentively, much as a doctor might gaze, but -she had kind eyes and once in awhile her dignity would break into a -smile. - -"I want to enter my little girl," my mother said, falteringly. "She--she -doesn't know a great deal." - -"Then there's all the more to learn," Mrs. Garfield encouraged us, -brightly. - -It seemed to me that she liked to know that I didn't know anything. It -seemed to me that she liked to think that I was to be built up after her -own plan. - -She was busy in a moment asking my age, and getting my school books -together. There was a brief farewell with my mother in the hall, during -which I clung to her, wildly, then the door had shut and I was alone in -the world. It was a dreadful feeling to be alone! And it was still more -dreadful when I had followed Mrs. Garfield into a large room filled with -pupils seated at their desks, and had been introduced to Miss Lucy, the -teacher in charge. - -"A little new friend of ours, Miss Lucy," Mrs. Garfield said, in the -hush that followed our arrival. - -Then she turned and left me. - -An elderly lady shook my hand in welcome. She had a soft hand, and a -worried look as if something had been going wrong, and there was a -little curly-haired girl standing in a far corner, with her face hidden -against the wall, who was sobbing bitterly. Somebody had been drawing a -picture on the blackboard. It showed a stout man with bow-legs, and an -ugly face, and underneath was written "Miss Lucy's Beau." - -"You can come out of the corner, Miss Armitage," Miss Lucy said, in an -icy tone. - -She pointed an accusing finger at the blackboard. - -"As for that dreadful--that distinctly unladylike--performance of yours -on the blackboard I shall allow it to remain until the noon recess." - -The little girls all looked at one another. - -"Shan't I rub it right off, Miss Lucy?" a small person in a long apron -demanded, eagerly. - -"Oh, teacher, teacher, let me rub it off!" another echoed. - -She had bright red hair and a plaid dress. - -"No, Cebelia, no, Janet," Miss Lucy replied, more in sorrow than in -anger. "We will look at this drawing together. We will consider its -disloyalty, its bad perspective, one foot is larger than the other -notwithstanding all I have taught her! its _unchristian spirit_!" - -She paused for a moment, and seemed to discover me. - -"Miss Harcourt, you may take the seat next to Miss Armitage," she added, -in haste. "Young ladies, we will go on with the geography lesson." - -I followed the little curly-headed girl to a desk, and sat down, and -looked at her. And she looked back at me with drowned eyes. She was -rather pretty. Suddenly, somehow, I felt sorry for her, bad as she -evidently was. I slipped my hand into hers. - -"Don't cry!" I whispered, in compassion. "You dear! Don't cry!" - -She pushed up the cover of the desk, and kissed me in its shadow. - -"I like you," she whispered, ardently. - -"And I like you," I whispered back. - -"Let's be friends," she suggested. - -We kissed again, solemnly, in agreement. - -Up in front the geography class was bounding Asia very eagerly and -rapidly. They had all the air of people who had recently escaped from -some great peril. We did not pay them much attention for we were too -much occupied with each other. Oh, the glory of having a friend, the -secrets that we confided that morning behind the desk cover, the -horse-hair rings which we exchanged in token of undying affection, the -dear human delight of finding some one who is your own age, and who -loves you! - -School lost its terrors for me in a very short while. With Grace -Armitage beside me I was willing to dare all things, and when half past -ten came I went quite happily hand-in-hand with her in the little -procession down the sunny street. It was so odd to look at my home from -the outside, to see Norah hanging out the wash, the twins playing in the -garden, and even grandmother sewing composedly at a window, just as if -it were an ordinary day, and I had not gone to school for the first -time. But my mother remembered, and when we passed the door she came -running out and waved to me. - -After that life resolved itself into a series of school days. Every -morning I went gayly off with my books, feeling a new sense of -importance, and every afternoon I came running home, with a budget of -news to tell my mother. There were many things to puzzle me in the new -world. For instance, I could never understand, why, when the spelling -lesson was particularly hard, Janet McLarin would always show a great -anxiety to hear about Miss Lucy's childhood. - -"Oh, Miss Lucy," she would cry, clasping her hands together, "tell us -about when you were a little girl!" - -Then there would come a perfect chorus from the whole class. - -"Oh, do, Miss Lucy! Do tell us about when you were a little girl!" - -"Tell us about the little cloak your mother made out of a shawl," -Cebelia would say, invitingly. - -Even Grace would add her quota. - -"Tell about your mother's party dress, and how she first met your -father." - -"Yes, yes," the others would clamor. "And tell us about her pink coral -beads, and how they were lost, and _he_ found them!" - -Then Miss Lucy would close the green spelling book, with a gratified -smile, and gather us about her in a little hushed circle, and tell us -the tales of a bygone age. I liked Miss Lucy. I liked to sit up close to -her and to Grace, and hear about the party dress, and the pink coral -beads, and when it all ended happily, as stories should, I would give a -great sigh of satisfaction. - -"Dear me," Miss Lucy would say, all aglow with enthusiasm, "it's time -for recess! Why, where has the morning gone! Well, girls, you'll have to -take the same lesson over again for to-morrow." - -She was very simple minded, Miss Lucy was, and she understood the -situation just as little as I did myself. - -Janet McLarin was Scotch, and she was canny. She could do every sum in -the arithmetic; but when the day came for compositions she would put her -bright head down in her lap and groan. - -"I wish I was dead," she would say, despairingly. "I do! I do!" - -Cebelia was more stoical; but she would fold great pleats in her apron, -and frown at the blackboard. Miss Lucy always wrote the subjects for the -compositions on the blackboard, one under the other, beautifully written -out for our decision. - - The Story of a Nine-pin. - Thoughts on Spring. - The Triumph of Columbus. - My Mother's Flower Garden. - A Meadow Daisy. - The Beauty of Truth. - -They were lovely, lovely subjects! I would sit and look at them in a -blissful dream. - -One day, the very first composition day, I remember Grace gave me a -little shake. - -"Which one are you going to take?" she demanded, dolefully. - -"I don't know," I answered, with a happy smile. - -"Girls," Grace cried, "I believe Rhoda could write them _all_! She likes -to write!" - -Miss Lucy was out of the room, and I remember that they all came around -me, and looked at me, as if I had been a strange animal. - -"Rhoda," Janet McLarin cried, taking her head out of her lap, "if you'll -write my composition for me I'll give you my best blue hair ribbon. My -Sunday one. Honest." - -I didn't want the hair ribbon; but I nodded at her. - -"I'll write it," I said. - -"Will you write me one, Rhoda, dear?" Grace asked, jealously, with her -face against mine. "You are _my_ friend, not hers." - -"I'll write yours, too," I agreed. - -"And one for me?" - -"And for me?" - -I nodded at them, generously. - -"I'll write one for everybody," I declared, with a glow of pleasure. - -"But don't tell anyone," Janet cautioned. - -I couldn't understand why she insisted on making a secret of it. It -seemed so strange. But I promised to tell no one, not even my own -mother. - -We always had two days in which to write our compositions. I did ten in -that time. I wrote them out roughly on great sheets of wrapping paper. I -wrote them up in the garret by the window where the wasps lived, and I -had such a grand time that I never noticed the wasps at all; but went on -and on finding something new to say every minute, and loving to say it. -Only it was hard when the sentences happened to come out beautifully not -to be able to show them to my mother. But I had promised. However, the -very best composition of all was to be my own, and that I might show to -her. I remember it was on "The Beauty of Truth." - -"It's very nice," my mother said, when it was put in her hand. -"It's--it's almost like a sermon!" - -She looked at the composition, with an odd smile of pleasure, and then -she drew me to her and kissed me fondly. - -"I think Rhoda would make a fine wife for a minister," I heard her tell -my father, excitedly. "She's got so much natural piety!" - -I was very happy that morning as I went to school. I carried my roll of -wrapping paper under my arm, and when I reached Mrs. Garfield's I -divided the compositions among the girls, so that they might each copy -her own. Afterwards they were all handed up to Miss Lucy and school -began. - -Miss Lucy took a long time over the compositions. She read them and read -them. She looked astonished, and, also, a trifle pleased. At last she -gathered them all up in a bundle, and went out of the room. It was very -quiet in the room. Every little girl sat at her desk and studied very -busily. All except Janet McLarin. She opened the side window and climbed -out. The last we could see of her was her bright hair vanishing around -the corner with a rush. Then we could hear the sound of Miss Lucy's -stout boots coming along the hall, and a swish of silk beside her. - -"She's bringing Mrs. Garfield!" Grace whispered, horror-stricken. - -Up to that time I had not been frightened, for there was nothing to be -frightened about; but fear is contagious, and somehow I began to be -scared myself. - -Mrs. Garfield stood up in front of us with a roll of papers in her hand. - -"Young ladies," she began, "I have something very serious to say to you, -something which it gives me great pain to say. Your compositions have -come in this morning, and your teacher has been surprised at them. She -has referred the matter to me. I in my turn have been surprised." - -She paused. The room was very, very still. - -"I find myself driven to the conclusion that not one of these -compositions has been written by a member of this class. They have been -written by somebody else. They have been written by an outsider. I -demand to know who has written them." - -I felt very funny inside my breast. My eyes were full of tears. I looked -at Mrs. Garfield standing up there, very severe, and somewhat angry, -and at Miss Lucy beside her, with a bewildered expression. I looked at -rows of pale little girls at their desks. I looked at Grace. Oh, it was -cruel, cruel! They had never told me that I was doing wrong. I had loved -them so, and given them my best, and they had all betrayed me! Even -Grace! Then I thought of "The Beauty of Truth." I rose up from my seat. - -"I did it, Mrs. Garfield," I confessed, brokenly. "I wrote them myself." - -Then I cried, my heart breaking inside of me. - -There was a rustle at the next desk. - -"It isn't Rhoda's fault," Grace's voice exclaimed. "She wrote them, but -we asked her to. We are all bad, just as bad as she is. And Janet -McLarin who has gone out of the window is the worst of us all!" - -If fear is contagious, so is confession. There was a perfect storm of -tearful explanations and excuses. They all told Mrs. Garfield how it had -been done, and they showed her the wrapping paper. One little girl -offered me a piece of chewing gum quite openly to comfort me, and Miss -Lucy dried my eyes on her own pocket-handkerchief. - -All that Mrs. Garfield said was, "Well!" - -But she said it with an air of astonishment. - -Afterwards she called me into her own private sanctum, the place where -people went to be scolded, and felt the bumps on my forehead. - -"Child," she said, "you have great originality. The region of sublimity -is large. So is that of humor. I predict a future for you. I do, indeed. -Do you understand what I mean?" - -"No, ma'am," I answered, timidly. - -"I mean that some day you will write greater things than these wrapping -paper compositions. I mean that with hard work, hard work, mind you, you -may write books. You may become an _authoress_!" - -She shook hands with me quite seriously when I went away as though with -an equal. The next moment she called me back, and kissed me, holding me -close to her silk breast. - -"You have talent, dear child," she said. "I will develop it. I will -watch over you. Some day there will be books!" - -I went home very bewildered, but very happy. I looked at the worn places -on the stair carpet almost tenderly. I laid my cheek against my mother's -old winter coat hanging up in the hall. Suppose the fortune which Norah -had read in the teacup should come true! Suppose that _I_ should be the -one to buy the new things, to make soft the narrow life, to reimburse -the dear ones who gave and gave and never thought of the sacrifice. Just -suppose! It was as if a great white door had opened before me. - - - - - * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - -Obvious punctuation errors have been corrected. Varied hyphenation was -retained. - -Repeated chapter titles were removed to avoid repetition. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CHRONICLES OF RHODA*** - - -******* This file should be named 40526.txt or 40526.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/0/5/2/40526 - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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