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diff --git a/old/51701-0.txt b/old/51701-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d68292b..0000000 --- a/old/51701-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2627 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Grandmother, by Laura E. Richards - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Grandmother - The Story of a Life That Never Was lived - -Author: Laura E. Richards - -Release Date: April 8, 2016 [EBook #51701] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRANDMOTHER *** - - - - -Produced by Giovanni Fini, Suzanne Shell and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: - -—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected. - - - - - GRANDMOTHER - - - - - Handy Volume Editions - of Copyrighted Fiction - - BY - LAURA E. - RICHARDS - - - MRS. TREE’S WILL $ .75 - - MRS. TREE .75 - - GEOFFREY STRONG .75 - - FOR TOMMY .75 - - LOVE AND ROCKS .75 - - CAPTAIN JANUARY .75 - - _Tall 16mos, Individual Cover - Designs. Illustrated._ - - DANA ESTES & CO., PUBLISHERS - ESTES PRESS, BOSTON, MASS. - -[Illustration: “GRANDMOTHER KNELT DOWN BESIDE HIM, AND TOOK HIS HAND.” -(_See page 62_)] - -[Illustration: - - GRANDMOTHER - -The Story of a Life That Never -Was Lived - -By - -Laura E. Richards - -_Author of_ -“Captain January,” “Melody,” “Marie,” “Mrs. Tree’s -Will,” etc. - -Boston -DANA ESTES & COMPANY -Publishers] - - _Copyright_, 1907 - BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY - - _All rights reserved_ - - GRANDMOTHER - - _COLONIAL PRESS - Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. - Boston, U. S. A._ - - - - - TO - MY DAUGHTER - Elizabeth - - I heard an angel singing - When the day was springing, - “Mercy, pity and peace - Are the world’s release!” - - —WILLIAM BLAKE. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. HOW SHE CAME TO THE VILLAGE 1 - - II. HOW THE FIRST LINE CAME IN HER FACE 15 - - III. HOW SHE PLAYED WITH THE CHILDREN 30 - - IV. HOW SHE SANG GRANDFATHER TO SLEEP 50 - - V. HOW THE SECOND LINE CAME IN HER FOREHEAD 65 - - VI. HOW SHE WENT VISITING 81 - - VII. HOW THE LIGHT CAME TO HER 99 - - VIII. HOW HER HAIR TURNED WHITE 116 - - IX. HOW SHE FOUND PEACE 132 - - - - - LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - PAGE - - “GRANDMOTHER KNELT DOWN BESIDE HIM, AND - TOOK HIS HAND”(_Page 62_) _Frontispiece_ - - “THE LONG WHITE LILY—PUTTING IT DELICATELY TO HER CHEEK” 20 - - “GRANDMOTHER HAD FORGOTTEN ALL THE WORLD EXCEPT THE CHILD” 102 - - “SHE LAY LIKE AN IVORY STATUE” 145 - - - - - GRANDMOTHER - - - - -CHAPTER I - -HOW SHE CAME TO THE VILLAGE - - -SHE was a slip of a girl when first she came to the village; slender -and delicate, with soft brown hair blowing about her soft face. Those -who saw her coming down the street beside Grandfather Merion thought he -had brought back one of his grandnieces with him from the west for a -visit; it was known that he had been out there, and he had been away -all summer. - -Anne Peace and her mother looked up from their sewing as the pair went -by; Grandfather Merion walking slow and stately with his ivory-headed -stick and his great three-cornered hat, the last one left in the -village, his kind wise smile greeting the neighbors as he met them; and -beside him this tall slender maiden in her light print gown that the -wind was tossing about, as it tossed the brown cloud of hair about her -cheeks. - -“Look, mother!” said Anne Peace. “She is for all the world like a -windflower, so pretty and slim. Who is it, think?” - -“Some of his western kin, I s’pose,” said Widow Peace. “She is a -pretty piece. See if she’s got the new back, Anne; I was wishful some -stranger would come to town to show us how it looked.” - -“Land, Mother,” said Anne; “her gown’s nothing but calico, and might -have come out of the Ark, looks ’s though; not but what ’tis pretty on -her. Real graceful! There! see her look up at him, just as sweet! I -expect she is his grandniece, likely. There they go in ’t the gate, and -he’s left it open, and the hens’ll get out. Rachel won’t like that! She -keeps her hens real careful.” - -“She fusses ’em most to death!” said Mrs. Peace. “If I was a hen I -should go raving distracted if Rachel Merion had the rearin’ of me. -Why, Anne! why, look at Rachel this minute, runnin’ down the garden -path. She looks as if something was after her. My sakes! she’s comin’ -in here. What in the—” - -Rachel Merion, a tall handsome young woman with a general effect of -black and red about her, came out of her door and down the path like -an arrow shot from a bow. At one dash she reached the gate and paused -to flash a furious look back at the house; with a second dash she was -across the road, and in another instant she stood in Mrs. Peace’s -sitting-room, quivering like a bowstring. - -“Mis’ Peace!” she cried. “Anne! he’s done it! he has! he has, I tell -you! I’ll go crazy or drown myself; I will! I will!” - -She began beating the air with her hands and screaming in short -breathless gasps. Mrs. Peace looked calmly at her over her spectacles. - -“There, Rachel!” she said. “You are in a takin’, aren’t you? Set down a -spell, till you feel quieter, and then tell us about it.” - -Anne, seeing the girl past speech, rose quietly, and taking her hand, -forced her to sit down; then taking a bowl of water from the table, wet -her brow and head repeatedly, speaking low and soothingly the while: -“There, Rachel! there! You’re better now, aren’t you? Take a long -breath, and count ten slowly; there! there!” - -The angry girl took a deep breath and then another; soon the power of -speech returned, and broke out in a torrent. - -“I always knew he would!” she cried. “I’ve looked for it ever since -Mother was cold in her grave and before, you know I have, Anne Peace. I -looked for it with Aunt ’Melia till I routed her out of the house, and -I looked for it with Mis’ Wiley till I sent _her_ flying. I wish’t now -I’d let ’em alone, both of ’em. I’d sooner he’d married ’em both, and -been a Turk and done with it, instead of this.” - -Mrs. Peace looked over her spectacles with mild severity. - -“Rachel Merion,” she said, “what are you talking about? If it’s your -grandfather, why then I tell you plain, that is no proper way for you -to talk. What has happened? speak out plain!” - -“He’s married!” Rachel fairly shrieked. “Married to a girl of eighteen, -and brought her back to sit over me and order me about in my own house. -I’ll teach ’em! I’ll let ’em see if I’m going to be bossed round by a -brown calico rag doll. They’ll find me dead on the threshold first.” - -“_Married!_” cried Mrs. Peace and Anne. “Oh, Rachel! it can’t be. You -can’t have understood him. It’s one of his grandnieces, I expect, your -Aunt Sophia’s daughter. She settled out west, I’ve always heard.” - -“I tell you he’s married!” cried Rachel. “Didn’t he tell me so? didn’t -he lead her in by the hand (she was scared, I’ll say that for her; -she’d better be!) and say ‘Rachel, here’s my wife! here’s your little -grandmother that’s come to be a playmate for you.’ Little grandmother! -that’s what I’ll call her, I guess. Let her _be_ a grandmother, and sit -in the chimney corner and smoke a cob pipe and wear a cap tied under -her chin. But if ever she dares to sit in my chair, I’ll kill her and -myself too. Oh, Mis’ Peace, I wish I was dead! I wish everybody was -dead.” - -So that was how Grandmother came by her name. It seems strange that it -should have been first given as a taunt. - -And while Rachel was raving and weeping, and the good Peaces, who -tried to live up to their name, were soothing her with quiet and -comfortable words, Grandmother was standing in the middle of the -great Merion kitchen, with her hands folded before her in the light -pretty way she had, listening to Grandfather; and while she listened -she looked to and fro with shy startled glances, and seemed to sway -lightly from side to side, as if a breath would move her; she was like -a windflower, as Anne Peace said. - -“You mustn’t mind Rachel,” Grandfather was saying, as he filled his -long pipe and settled himself in his great chair. “She is like the -wind that bloweth where it listeth; where it listeth. She has grown -up motherless—like yourself, my dear, but with a difference; with a -difference; neither your grandmother—I would say, neither my wife nor -I have ever governed her enough. She has rather governed me, being of -that disposition; of that disposition. Yes! But she is a fine girl, and -I hope you will be good friends. This is the kitchen, where we mostly -sit in summer, for coolness, you see; Rachel cooks mostly in the back -kitchen in summer. That is the sitting-room beyond, which you will find -pleasant in cooler weather. That is the pantry door, and that one opens -on the cellar stairs. Comfortable, all very comfortable. I hope you -will be happy, my dear. Do you think you will be happy?” - -He looked at her with a shade of anxiety in his cheerful eyes, and -waited for her reply. - -“Oh—yes!” said Grandmother, with a flutter in her voice that told of -a sob somewhere near. “Yes, sir, if—if she will not always be angry. -Will she always, do you think?” - -“No! No!” said Grandfather; “very soon, very soon, we’ll all be -comfortable, all be comfortable. Just don’t mind her, my dear. Let her -be, and she’ll come round.” - -He nodded wisely with his kind grave smile. By and by he bade her go -out in the garden and gather a posy for herself; and then he took his -hat and stepped across the road to Widow Peace’s. - -Grandmother started obediently, but when she came to the garden door -she stopped and looked out with wide startled eyes. Rachel in her -scarlet dress was down on her knees in the poppy bed, the pride of her -heart, and was plucking up the poppies in furious haste, dragging them -up by the roots and trampling them under her feet. - - * * * * * - -“It seemed the only thing to do!” said Grandfather Merion, absently. -“Wild parts, Susan; wild parts, ma’am! Her parents dead, as I told -you, and the child left with the innkeeper’s wife, who was not—not -a person fitted to bring up a young girl; no other woman—at least -none of suitable character near. It seemed clearly my duty to bring -the child away. Then—my search led me into mining camps, and often I -had to be off alone among the mountains, as a rumor came from here or -there—the marriage bond was a protection, you see; yes, I was clear as -to my duty. But I confess I forgot about Rachel, Susan, and Rachel is -so ungoverned! I fear she will not—a—not be subject to my wife—whose -name is Pity, by the way, Susan; a quaint name; she is a very good -child. I am sure you and little Annie will be good to her.” - -Good Widow Peace promised, and so did Anne, her soft brown eyes shining -with good-will; but when he was gone back, the old woman shook her -head. “No good can come of it!” she said. “I hadn’t the heart to say -so, Anne, for poor Grandfather must have a hard time, searching them -cruel mountains for his graceless son; but no good can come of it.” - -“But we can try!” said Anne. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -HOW THE FIRST LINE CAME IN HER FACE - - -RACHEL did not kill herself, nor go crazy; nor did she even go away, as -she threatened to do when she wearied of announcing her imminent death. -She stayed and made things unpleasant for Grandmother. She was barely -civil to her in Grandfather’s presence, for she dared not be otherwise; -but the moment his back was turned she was grimacing and threatening -behind it, and when he left the room she would break out into open -taunt and menace. There was no name too hateful for her to call the -pale girl who never reviled her in turn; but Grandmother’s very silence -was turned against her. - -“You needn’t think that I don’t know why you’re dumb as a fish!” raved -the frantic girl. “You know what I say is true, and you darsn’t speak! -you darsn’t! you darsn’t!—” She stopped short; for Grandmother had -come and taken her by both wrists, and stood gazing at her. - -“Stop!” she said quietly. “That is enough. Stop!” - -They stood for some minutes, looking into each other’s eyes; then -Rachel turned her head away with a sullen gesture. “Let me go!” she -said. “I don’t want to say anything more. I’ve said enough. Let me go!” - -These were bad hours, but there were good ones too for little -Grandmother. She loved her housework, and did it with a pretty grace -and quickness; she loved to sit by Grandfather with her sewing, or read -the paper to him. She could not be doing enough for the old man. She -told Anne Peace that he had saved her life. “I should not have gone on -living out there,” she said, “it was not good to live after my father -died. I had one friend, but he left me, and there were only strangers -when Grandfather came and saved me. It is a little thing to let her -scold”—it was after one of Rachel’s tantrums—“if only she will be -quiet before him, and not make him grieve.” - -But her happiest hours were in the garden. It was a lovely place, the -Merion garden; not large, only a hundred feet from the house to the -street; but this space was so set and packed with flowers that from a -little distance it looked like a gay carpet stretched before the old -red brick house. Small lozenge-shaped beds, each a mass of brilliant -color; sweet-william, iris, pansies, poppies, forget-me-nots, and -twenty other lovely things. Between the beds, round and round like a -slender green ribbon, ran a little grassy path, just wide enough for -one person. Grandmother would spend her best hours following this -path; pacing slowly along, stopping here to look and there to smell, -and everywhere to love. She was like a flower herself, as she drifted -softly along in her light dress, her soft hair blowing about her sweet -pale face; a windflower, as Anne Peace said. - -One day she had followed the path till she came to where it ran along -by the old vine-covered brick wall that stood between the garden and -the road. You could hardly see the wall for the grapevines that were -piled thick upon it; and inside the vines tumbled about, overrunning -the long bed of yellow iris that was the rearguard of the garden. - -Grandmother was talking as she drifted slowly along; it was a way -she had, bred by her lonely life in the western cabin; talking half -to herself, half to the long white lily that she held, putting it -delicately to her cheek now and then, as if to feel which was the -smoother. - -“But Manuel never came back!” she was saying. “I never knew, white -lily, I never knew whether he was alive or dead. That made it hard to -come away, do you see, dear? Whether he was lost in the great snow up -on the mountains, or whether the Indians caught him,—I can never know -now, lily dear; and he was my only friend till Grandfather came, and I -loved him—I loved Manuel, white lily! Ah! what is that?” - -[Illustration: “THE LONG WHITE LILY—PUTTING IT DELICATELY TO HER -CHEEK.”] - -There was a smothered exclamation; a rustle on the other side of the -wall. The next moment a figure that had been lying under the wall rose -up and confronted Grandmother; the figure of a young man, tall and -graceful, with the look of a foreigner. - -“Pitia!” cried the young man. “It is you? You call me?—see, I come! I -am here, Manuel Santos.” - -Yes, things happen so, sometimes, more strangely than in stories. - -He stretched out his arms across the wall in greeting. - -“Are you alive, Manuel?” asked Grandmother, making the sign of the -cross, as her Spanish nurse had taught her. “Are you alive, or a -spirit? Either way I am glad, oh, glad to see you, Manuel!” - -She drew near timidly, and timidly reached out her hand and touched -his; he grasped it with a cry, and then with one motion had leaped -the wall and caught her in his arms. “Pitia!” he cried. “To me! mine, -forever!” - -He lifted her face to his, but in breathless haste little Grandmother -put him from her and leaned back against the wall, with hands -outstretched keeping him off. - -“Manuel,” she said. “I have a great deal to tell you. I thought—you -did not come back. I thought you were dead.” - -“Yes,” said the boy. “No wonder! The Apaches got me and kept me all -winter with a broken leg. What matter? I got away. I found you had come -east. I found the man’s name who brought you—found where he lived. I -followed. I come here an hour ago, and lie down, I think by chance, -beneath the wall to rest. That chance was the finger of Heaven. You -see, Pitia, it leads me to you. I take you, you are mine, you go back -with me, as my wife.” - -The little windflower was very white as she leaned against the wall, -still with outstretched pleading hands; whiter than the lily that lay -at her feet. - -“Manuel,” she said; “listen! I was alone. Father died. There was no -woman save old Emilia—” the lad uttered an oath, but she hurried on. -“I could not—I could not stay. I meant to die; I thought you dead, -and I—I was going up into the great snow to end it, when—a good old -man came. Old, old, white as winter, but good as Heaven. He saved me, -Manuel; he brought me here to his home, and it is mine too. I am his -wife, Manuel.” - -“His wife!” The young man stared incredulous, his dark eyes full of -pain and trouble. “His wife—an old man! You, my Pitia?” Suddenly his -face broke into laughter. - -“I see!” he cried. “You punish me, you try me—good! I take it all! -Go on, Pitia! more penance, I desire it, because at the last I have -you—so!” - -Once more he sprang towards her with a passionate gesture; but the -slender white arms never wavered. - -“I am his wife,” she repeated; “the good old man’s wife. See—the ring -on my finger. They—they call me Grandmother, Manuel dear.” - -She tried to smile. “And you are alive!” she said. “Manuel, that is all -I will think of; my friend is alive, my only friend till Grandfather -came.” - -Alas! poor little Grandmother, poor little windflower; for now burst -forth a storm beside which Rachel’s rages seemed the babble of a -child. Cruel names the boy called her, in his wild passion of love and -disappointment; cruel, cruel words he said; and she stood there white -and quiet, looking at him with patient pleading eyes, but not trying to -excuse or defend. - -“Ah!” he cried at last. “You are not alive at all, I believe. You have -never lived, you do not know what life is.” - -That was the first time she heard it, poor little Grandmother. She -was to hear it so many times. Now she put her hand to her heart as if -something had pierced it; a spasm crossed her smooth forehead, and when -it passed a line remained, a little line of pain. - -But she only nodded and tried to smile, and said, “Yes, sure, Manuel! -yes, sure!” - -Then they heard Grandfather’s voice behind them, and there was the -good old man standing, leaning on his stick and looking at them with -wonder. - -“What is this?” said Grandfather. “I heard loud and angry words. Who is -this, my dear?” - -“This is Manuel, Grandfather; my friend of whom I told you. He is angry -because I am married to you!” said Grandmother simply; “but I am always -so thankful to you, Grandfather dear!” - -Grandfather looked kindly at the boy. “I see!” he said. “Yes, yes; I -see! I see! But come into the house with us, sir, and let us try to be -friends. Sorrow in youth is hard to bear, yet it can be borne, it can -be borne, and we will help you if we may.” - -And Grandmother said, “Yes, sure, Manuel dear; come in and eat with -us; you must be hungry.” - -A great sob burst from the boy’s throat, and turning away he flung his -arm upon the vine-covered wall and wept there. - -“Go you into the house, my dear,” said Grandfather; “and be getting -supper. We will come presently.” - -Grandmother looked at him for a moment; then she took his hand and put -it to her heart, with a pretty gesture, looking into his face with -clear patient eyes; he laid his other hand on her head, and they stood -so for a moment quietly, with no words; then she went into the house. - -And by and by Grandfather brought Manuel in to supper, and Rachel was -wonderfully civil, and they were all quite cheerful together. - -Manuel stayed, as we all know, and worked for Grandfather on the farm, -and boarded with the Widow Peace across the way; and he and Grandfather -were great friends, and he and Rachel quarrelled and made up and -quarrelled again, over and over; and always from that time there was a -little line on Grandmother’s smooth forehead. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -HOW SHE PLAYED WITH THE CHILDREN - - -I ASKED Anne Peace once, when we were talking about Grandmother (it was -not till the next year that we came to the village), how soon it was -that the children found her out. Very soon, Anne said. It began with -their trying to tease her by shouting “Grandmother!” over the wall and -running away. She caught one of them and carried him into the garden -screaming and kicking (she was strong, for all her slenderness), and -soon she had him down in the grass listening to a story, eyes and -mouth wide open, and all the rest of them hanging over the wall among -the grapevines, “trying so hard to hear you could ’most see their ears -grow!” said Anne, laughing. - -“It was wonderful the way she had with them. I used to wish she would -keep a school, after she was left alone, but I don’t know; maybe she -couldn’t have taught them so much in the book way; but where she -learned all the things she did tell ’em—it passes me. I used to ask -her: ’Grandmother,’ I’d say, ’where do you get it all?’ And she’d laugh -her pretty way, and say: - - “‘Eye and ear, - See and hear; - Look and listen well, my dear!’ - -That was all there was to it, she’d say, but we knew better.” - -I can remember her stories now. Perhaps they were not so wonderful as -we thought; perhaps it was the way she had with her that made them so -enchanting. I never shall forget the story of the little Prince who -would go a-wooing. His mother, the old Queen, said to him: - - “Look she sweet or speak she fair, - Mark what she does when they curl her hair!” - -“So the little Prince started off on his travels, and soon he met a -beautiful Princess with lovely curls as white as flax. She looked -sweet, and she spoke fair, and the little Prince thought ‘Here is the -bride for me!’ But he minded him of what his mother said, and when the -Princess went to have her hair curled he stood under the window and -listened. - -“And what did he hear, children? He heard the voice that had spoken him -sweet as honey, but now it was sharp and thin as vinegar. ‘Careless -slut!’ it said. ‘If you pull my hair again I will have you beaten.’ - -“Then the little Prince shook his head and sighed, and started again -on his travels. By and by he met another Princess, and she was red as -a rose, with black curls shining like jet, and her eyes so bright and -merry that the Prince thought, ‘Sure, this is the bride for me!’ - -“The Princess thought so too, and she looked sweet and spoke fair; -but the Prince minded him of what his mother had said, and when the -Princess went to have her hair curled he listened again beneath the -window. But oh, children, what did he hear? Angry words and stamping -feet, and then a sharp stinging sound; and out came the maid flying and -crying, with her hand to her cheek that had been slapped till it was -red as fire. So when the Prince saw that he sighed again and shook his -head, and started off on his travels. - -“Before long he met a third Princess, and she was fair as a star, and -her curls like brown gold, and falling to her knees. She looked so -sweet that the Prince’s heart went out to her more than to either of -the others; but he was afraid after what had passed, and waited for -the hour of the hair-curling. When that came, he was going toward the -window, when there passed him a young maiden running, with her face all -in a glow of happiness. - -“‘Whither away so fast, pretty maid?’ asked the Prince. - -“‘Do not stay me!’ said the maid. ‘I go to curl the Princess’s hair, -and I must not be late, for it is the happiest hour of my day.’ - -“‘Is it so?’ said the Prince. ‘Then will you tell the Princess that -when her hair is curled I pray that she will marry me?’ - -“And so she did, children, of course, and they had a happy day for -every thread of her brown-gold hair, so I am told, and there were so -many threads, I think they must be alive to this day.” - -And the bird stories! and the story of how the butterfly’s wings were -spotted! and the flower stories! I don’t suppose there was a child in -the village in those days who did not believe that at night all the -flowers in Grandfather Merion’s garden were dancing round the fairy -ring in the home pasture. - -“And Sweet William said to Clove Pink, ‘How sweet the fringe on your -gown is! Will you dance with me, pretty lady?’ So they danced away -and away, and they met Bachelor’s Button waltzing with Cowslip, and -young Larkspur kicking up his heels with Poppy Gay, and Prince’s -Feather bowing low before sweet white Lily in her satin gown, and -Crown Imperial leading out Queen Rose—oh! but she was a queen indeed! -And the music played—such music! the locust went tweedle, tweedle, -tweedle, and the cricket went chirp, chirp, chirp, and the big green -frog that played the bass viol said ‘glum! glum! glum!’ And they -danced—oh, they danced! - -“Whirl about, twirl about, hop, hop, hop! till—hush! something -happened. Oh! children, come close while I whisper. The green turf -of the Ring trembled and shook—and opened—and—oh! off go the -flowers scampering back to bed as fast as they can go; and in their -places—oh! hush! oh, hush! I must not tell. - - “Green jacket, red cap, and white owl’s feather! - -Little lights that twinkle, little bells that jingle, little feet that -trip, trip— - -“Hush, children! we must not look. Home again, we too, after the -flowers!” - -And she would catch their hands and run with them round and round the -field till all were out of breath with running and laughter. - -The Saturday feasts were begun, Anne Peace reminded me, for the little -lame girl who lived a mile beyond the village. The poor little soul -had heard of all the merry play that went on at Merion Farm, and had -begged her father to bring her in. So one day a long lean tattered man -came to the gate and looked wistfully in at Grandmother, who was making -daisy chains against the children’s coming. - -“Mornin’!” he said. “Mis’ Merion to home?” - -“Yes,” said Grandmother; “at least I am here. Would you like something?” - -“I swow!” said the man. He looked helplessly at the girlish figure a -moment. Then—“My little gal heard tell how that you told yarns to -young ’uns, and nothin’ to it but I must fetch her in. She—she ain’t -very well—” his rough voice faltered, and he looked back to his wagon. - -“Is she there?” cried Grandmother. “Oh, but bring her in! bring her in -quickly! why, you darling, I am so glad you have come.” - -A poor little huddle of humanity; hunchbacked, with the strange -steadfast eyes of her kind,—wise with their own knowledge, which -is apart from all knowledge revealed to those whose backs are -straight,—lame, too, drawn and twisted this way and that, as if Nature -had been a naughty child playing with a doll, tormenting it in sheer -wantonness. - -A piteous sight; and still more piteous the shrinking look of her and -of the poor gaunt wistful father, watchful for a rebuff, a smile, some -one of the devilishly cruel tricks that humanity startles into when it -touches the unusual. - -But Grandmother’s arms were out, and Grandmother’s face was shining -with clear light, like an alabaster lamp. Oh, one would know that her -name was Pity, even though none used the name now, even Manuel, even -Grandfather himself calling her Grandmother. - -“Darling!” she said, and she hugged the child close to her, as if she -would shield it from all the world. “Here is a daisy chain for you. -See! I will put it round your neck. Now you are mine for the whole -afternoon. Good father will go—” she nodded to the man; “go and do -the errands, and see to all his business, and then when it gets -toward supper-time he will come back and pick you up and carry you -off. And now we’ll go and make some posies for the others; my name is -Grandmother; what is yours, darling? whisper now!” - -The man turned away, and brushed his hand across his eyes. “Gosh!” he -said simply. “I guess you’re a good woman.” - -“I’m just Grandmother,” said the girl; “that’s all, isn’t it, Nelly? -Good-bye, father!” - -“Good-bye, father!” echoed the child, clinging round Grandmother’s neck -as though she feared she might vanish suddenly into thin air. - -“Sure she won’t pester ye?” said the man, timidly. “She’s real clever!” - -“You won’t pester me, will you, Nelly?” said Grandmother. - - “Nelly Nell, Nelly Nell, - Come and hear the flowers tell - How they heed you, - Why they need you, - How they mean to love you well.” - -And off they went together, little Nelly nodding and waving her hand, -with a wholly new smile on her pale shrivelled face. - -“Gosh!” said the father again; he had not many words, and only one to -express emotion. - -When the other children came, they found a little girl with a radiant -face, crowned with a forget-me-not wreath, and with the prettiest pale -blue scarf over her shoulders, all embroidered with butterflies. She -was sitting in a low round chair with cushioned back, and chair and -cushion and child were all heaped and garlanded with flowers, daisies -and lilies, pink hawthorn and great drifts of snowballs. - -Grandmother called to them, “Come children, come! here is the Queen of -the May. Her name is Nelly, and she has come to stay to tea, and you -shall all stay too.” - -The children came up half shy, half bold. - -“What makes her sit so funny?” asked a very little boy. - -“You be still or I’ll bat your head off!” muttered his elder brother -savagely. No one else made any mistake, and most of them were careful -not to look too much at Nelly; children are gentlefolk, if you take -them the right way. - -Then they listened to the story of the princess in the brown dress; how -she came into the town, and no one knew she was a princess at all, but -every one said, “See the poor woman in the tattered brown gown!” But -the princess did not mind. She went hither and thither, up and down, -and whenever she met any one who was in need, she put her hand inside -the folds of her gown, and brought out a piece of gold or a shining -jewel, and gave it to the poor person. So when this had gone on for -some time, people began to talk one to another. One said, “Where does -this beggar woman get the gold and the gems that she gives?” - -“She must have begged them!” said another. - -“Or stolen them!” said a third. - -Then all the people cried out, “She is a thief! let her be stripped and -beaten!” - -So they brought the princess to the market-place; and cruel men seized -her and pulled off her tattered brown gown; and oh! and oh! children, -what do you think? there stood the most radiant princess that ever was -seen upon earth; her dress was of pure woven gold, and set from top to -hem with precious stones so bright that the sun laughed in every one -of them, and her hair (for they had pulled off her cap too) was as -fair gold as the dress, and fell around her like a golden cloak. So she -stood for a minute like heaven come to earth; and then all in a moment -she vanished away, and only the tattered brown dress was left for them -to do what they would with. - -“So, darlings, be very careful to be nice to everybody, especially to -anyone in a shabby brown dress, for there may always be a princess -inside it.” - -“Did you ever see a princess, Grandmother?” asked a child. - -“Oh, I so seldom see any other kind of person,” said Grandmother, -“except princes. You have no idea how many I know. No, I can’t tell you -their names; you’ll have to find them out for yourselves; and now it -is time for a game.” - -They were quiet games that they played that afternoon; but as the -children said afterwards, some of the best games are quiet. And then -came the Feast; a wonderful feast, with a great jug of creamy milk, and -all the bread and honey that any one could eat, and little round tarts -besides. - -“Look at that!” said Rachel to Manuel. They had been for a walk, and -came back through the orchard, where the feast was held. “We were going -to have those tarts for tea, and she has given every last one to those -brats. That’s all she cares for, just childishness. She’s nothing but a -child herself.” - -“Nothing but a child!” echoed Manuel, and he added, “She has never -lived; sometimes I think she never will.” - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -HOW SHE SANG GRANDFATHER TO SLEEP - - -GRANDFATHER began to fail. He complained of no pain or distress; but -his stately figure seemed to shrink, and his head that he used to hold -so high was now bowed on his breast, and he began to creep and shuffle -in his walk. Widow Peace said the change had begun when he came back -from the vain search for his graceless son, and I think it was true. -“He won’t more than last out the winter,” said Mrs. Peace, “if he does -that. The Merions don’t run much above seventy.” - -“Don’t, mother!” said Anne. - -“Don’ting won’t stop the course of nature,” said her mother, “nor yet -is it proper you should say ‘Don’t’ to me, Anne Peace.” - -“I beg your pardon, mother; I meant no harm.” - -“No more you did, daughter. You may hand me the tape measure. Anne, if -you can tell me how to cut this dress so as to make Mis’ Broadback look -like anything besides Behemoth in the Bible I shall be obliged to you.” - -“You’re real funny, mother!” said Anne, who never quite understood her -parent. - -“Fun keeps the fiddle going!” said Mrs. Peace. “You may cut them gores -if you’re a mind to, Anne. There’s Rachel and Manuel goin’ off again. -S’pose they’re goin’ to make a match of it?” - -“Oh, mother!” said little Anne. - - “‘Oh,’ said the owl, and set up a hootin’, - But Jabez kept still when he done the shootin’.” - -What does Grandmother do these days? I haven’t seen her go out of the -gate for a week and more. You were over this morning, wasn’t you?” - -“Yes,” said Anne. “Oh, mother, she just sits by Grandfather all the -time—when her work is done, that’s to say; Grandmother never slights -anything; sits by him all day, reading to him when he’s awake, or -talking, or singing those little songs he likes; and when he drops off -asleep she just reaches for her sewing and sits and waits till he wakes -up. And she’s growing so white and thin—there! it just makes me ache -to see her. I said to her ‘Grandmother,’ I said, ‘when he drops off -asleep that way, you’d ought to slip out into the garden for a mouthful -of air, even if you don’t go no further. Rachel can stay round,’ I -said, ‘case he should want anything,’ I said. But she just shook her -head. ‘No, Anne!’ she says. ‘I must be here,’ she says. ‘He has been so -good to me; so good to me; he must always find me here when he wants -me.’ - -“And sure enough, mother, directly he woke up, before he opened his -eyes he says ‘You here, Grandmother?’ kinder restless like, and she -says ‘Yes, Grandfather, right here!’ and laid her hand on his and began -to sing, and he smiled real happy and contented, said he didn’t want -anything except just to know that she was there. But, mother, ’tis a -sweet pretty sight now, to see them two together. Of course he’s an -old man and she’s a young girl, but yet—well, they aren’t like other -folks, neither one of them. What makes you look like that, mother?” - -“Nobody ever was like other folks that ever I heard of,” said Widow -Peace rather grimly. “Now you be quiet, Anne Peace. Here comes Rachel.” - -Rachel Merion came flying in, splendid in her scarlet dress. “How do, -Mis’ Peace?” she said. “Anne, will you lend me that mantilla pattern? -I want to make one out of some of that black lace Grandmother Willard -had. Will you, Anne? hurry up, I can’t wait.” - -Mrs. Peace looked at her with mild severity. “Rachel,” she said; “sit -down a spell. I want to speak to you.” - -“Oh, I can’t, Mis’ Peace!” said Rachel. “Manuel’s waiting for me -outside.” - -“Manuel _can_ wait,” said Mrs. Peace. “It’ll do him good. Sit down, -Rachel!” - -“I’d full as lives stand, thank you,” said Rachel sullenly. - -“I asked you to sit down,” said Mrs. Peace quietly; and Rachel sat down -with a flounce on the edge of a chair, and listened with lowering brows. - -“I want to speak to you about Grandmother,” said the little widow. “She -isn’t well; Anne sees it, and I see it. She’s outdoing her strength, -caring for Grandfather all day long, and I think you’d ought to help -her more than what you do.” - -Rachel’s eyes flashed under their black brows. - -“She wanted him,” she said, “and she got him; now let her see to him. I -don’t feel no call to take care of Grandfather; he isn’t my husband.” - -Anne’s soft eyes glowed with indignation. She was about to speak, her -mother motioned her to silence. “Rachel Merion,” she said. “You’d ought -to be slapped, and I’ve a good part of a mind to do it. You’re careless -and shiftless, and heathen; and you’ll neither do good nor get it in -this world till you get a human heart in your bosom. Grandmother is -worth twenty of you, and I pay her no compliment either in saying it; -it shows what she is, that she has put up with your actions so long. -I wouldn’t have, not a single week. I’d have drove you out with a -broomstick, Rachel, and give you time to learn manners before I let you -in again. There! now I’ve said my say, and you can go.” - -As Anne said, it was a pretty sight there, in the Merion kitchen. The -good old man sat in his great armchair, dozing or dreaming the hours -away, less and less inclined to stir as the weeks went on; and always -beside him was the slight figure in the clear print dress, watching, -waiting, tending; yes, it was pretty enough. - -“Sing, Grandmother!” he would say now and then; and Grandmother would -sing in her low sweet voice, like a flute: - - “Sweet sleep to fold me, - Sweet dreams to hold me; - Listen, oh! listen! - This the angels told me. - Fair grow the trees there, - Soft blows the breeze there, - Golden ways, golden days, - When will ye enfold me?” - -Or that quaint little old song that he specially liked: - - “As I went walking, walking, - I heard St. Michael talking, - He spoke to sweet St. Gabriel, - The one who loves my soul so well, - ‘Oh, brother, tell me here, - Why hold that soul so dear?’ - ‘Because, alas, since e’er ‘twas born, - I feel the piercing of its thorn.’” - -Or it would be the song of the river, and that she loved to sing, -because Grandfather would fall asleep to the soft lulling time of it: - - “Flow, flow, flow down river, - Carry me down to the sea! - Ropes of silk and a cedar paddle, - For to set my spirit free. - Roll, roll, rolling billow; - Smooth, smooth my sleepy pillow: - Silver sails and a cedar paddle, - For to set my spirit free! - - “Long, long work and weeping, - Trying for to do my best: - Soon, soon, time for sleeping; - Cover me up to rest! - Roll, roll, rolling billow, - Smooth, smooth my sleepy pillow, - Golden masts and a cedar paddle, - For to set my spirit free!” - -One day she was singing this, softer and softer, till she thought -Grandfather was fast asleep. Lower and lower sank the lulling voice, -till at length it died away in a sigh. Then she sat silent, looking -at him; at the good white head, the broad forehead, with its strong -lines of toil and thought, all the kind face that she knew and loved -well now. She sighed again, not knowing that she did; and at that -Grandfather opened his eyes without stirring and looked at her—oh, so -kindly! - -“Little Grandmother,” he said. “You know I am going soon?” - -“Yes, Grandfather!” said she. - -“You have been a good, good child,” said Grandfather; “a good and -faithful child, and when I go my blessing stays with you. You are -young, and I want you to be happy. Perhaps you will like to marry -Manuel, my dear?” - -Grandmother lifted her clear eyes to his. - -“Yes, Grandfather!” she said. - -“He is not good enough for you,” said Grandfather, “but—well! well! -you are both young, both young, and youth is a great thing. I was young -myself—a long, long time ago, my dear.” He was silent. - -Grandmother knelt down beside him, and took his hand in her own two, -stroking it and singing softly. - - “Silver sails and a cedar paddle, - For to set my spirit free.” - -Presently he looked up, and spoke hurriedly, in a strange, confused -voice. - -“Mary!” he said. “Are you there?” - -Now Mary was the name of the wife of his youth. Grandmother was silent. - -“Are you there, Mary?” asked the old man impatiently. “‘Tis so dark I -can’t see you.” - -“Yes, I am here!” said Grandmother. - -“‘Tis time to light up!” said Grandfather. “We mustn’t sit here in the -dark like old folks, Mary. Let me get up and light the lamps.” - -The afternoon light fell clear on his face with its open sightless -eyes, and on the angel face turned up to it in faithful love. - -“Wait just a little, John,” said Grandmother. “I—I love the twilight; -’tis restful. Let—let me rest a bit before we light up, won’t you?” - -“Surely, Mary; surely, my dear. We’ll rest together then; I—I am tired -too, I—think.” - -There was a long silence. The light was growing softer, fainter; the -old clock ticked steadily; a coal tinkled from the fire. - -“Mary—you are there?” - -“Yes, dear!” - -“Song—the sleepy song; I think I shall sleep.” - -Hush! rest, dear white head, on my breast; close, poor eyes that cannot -see the light. Rest, rest, in the quiet twilight! - - “Roll, roll, rolling billow, - Smooth, smooth my sleepy pillow, - Golden mast and a cedar paddle, - For to set my spirit free!” - - - - -CHAPTER V - -HOW THE SECOND LINE CAME IN HER FOREHEAD - - -IT was when Grandfather died that the second line came across -Grandmother’s clear forehead. Sometimes—when she was playing with the -children, for example—it was so faint one hardly noticed it; but again -it would be deep, a line of thought—or was it pain?—drawn straight as -by a ruler. Manuel noticed it one day, and spoke of it. - -“You look troubled, Grandmother. What is it?” - -“I have lost my best friend, Manuel,” said Grandmother. “I may well -look troubled; yet it is not trouble either, only sorrow, for missing -him, and for wishing I had done more for him.” - -“No one could have done more,” said Manuel; “you were an angel to him.” -He was silent a moment; then he said, “You used to call me your best -friend—once. Shall I call you Pitia again, Grandmother?” - -Something in his tone—or was it something _not_ there?—drew the line -deeper across the white forehead. She waited a moment before she spoke, -and then answered carefully, keeping an even tone: - -“Perhaps ‘Grandmother’ is better, Manuel; we are all used to it, you -know. Why should we change?” - -“As you please!” said Manuel; and whether there was more regret or -relief in his voice, who shall say? He lingered a moment, hesitating, -with words on his lips which seemed to hang, unready for utterance; and -Grandmother stood very still, only her breath fluttering a little; but -he need not see that, and did not. - -Suddenly from the garden came a voice, clear, shrill, imperious; -Rachel’s voice. “Manuel, where are you? I want you! come, quick.” - -Manuel gave one glance at the still face; hesitated a moment; then -muttering something about “Back soon!” he went out. - -Little Grandmother stood very still. Sounds crept through her -ears,—the clock ticking, the old cat purring on the hearth, the -song-sparrow singing loud and clear in the apple-tree outside the -sitting-room window,—but she did not heed them. Her eyes were wide -open, fixed on the door through which Manuel had gone. It formed a -lovely picture, blossoming trees, waving grass (winter had come and -gone since Grandfather died), gay flower-beds; but she did not see -them. Only when two figures crossed the space, a girl in a scarlet -dress, a man at her side, looking down as she laughed up in his face, -Grandmother shivered a little, and went over to where the great -work-basket stood, and caught up her sewing with a kind of passion. “I -have you!” she said. “You are mine, good little stitches dear, kind, -good little stitches!” - -If I have not said much about Manuel, it is because there is not very -much to say. He was a handsome lad, and a merry one. His laziness did -not show much till after Grandfather’s death, for he feared and loved -the old man, and did his best to please him. How he should have made -the effort to cross the Continent in search of Grandmother was one of -the things that could not be understood. It was like a fire of straw, -as Mrs. Peace said; it burned up bright, but there were no coals left. - -Mrs. Peace had little patience with Manuel. He had been boarding with -her now for two years, and had never once, so she said, wiped his -feet as they should be wiped when he came into the house. Also she -pronounced him lazy, shiftless, careless, and selfish. - -“If he marries Rachel,” she said, “there’ll be a pair of ’em, and a -precious pair, too. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind before I -sleep to-night.” - -“That’s a real pretty skirt of Rachel’s, mother,” said Anne. “Don’t you -want I should stroke the gathers?” - -“You may stroke the gathers, Anne, but you can’t stroke me,” said her -mother gently. “I tell you I am going to give that fellow a piece of my -mind. Yes, it is a pretty dress, and it’s the third Rachel Merion has -had this spring, and if you’ll tell me when Grandmother has had a new -dress, I’ll give you the next ninepence that’s coined.” - -“Grandmother always looks like a picture, I’m sure,” said Anne. - -“I’ve no special patience with Grandmother,” said Mrs. Peace, “nor yet -with you, Anne Peace. If the Lord had meant for us to be angels here, -it’s likely he would have provided us with wings and robes, ’cordin’ -to. When I see an angel in a calico dress goin’ round askin’ folks -won’t they please wipe their feet on her and save their carpets, I want -to shake her.” - -“Shake Grandmother?” said Anne, opening great eyes of reproach. - -“There’s Manuel now!” said Widow Peace. “You might take this waist home -to Mis’ Wyman, if you’ve a mind to, Anne.” - -It is not known precisely what Mrs. Peace said to Manuel Santos. Anne, -on her return from Mrs. Wyman’s, met him coming out, in a white flame -of rage. He glared at her, and muttered something under his breath, but -made no articulate reply. - -“Chatterin’ mad, he was!” Mrs. Peace said calmly, in answer to Anne’s -anxious questions. “Fairly chatterin’ mad. I don’t know, Anne, whether -I’ve done harm or good, but something had to be done, and there’s times -when harm is better than nothing.” - -“Why, Mother Peace!” exclaimed Anne, aghast. “How you talk!” - -“It don’t sound pretty, does it?” said the widow; “but I believe it’s a -fact. Something will happen now, you see if it don’t.” - -Something did happen. Manuel, still white and inarticulate with rage, -met Rachel in the garden, on his way to the house; Rachel in her red -dress, with scarlet poppies in her hair and hands. She was waiting for -him, perhaps; certainly, at sight of him, the color and light flashed -into her face in a way that might have moved a stronger man than Manuel. - -“Manuel!” she cried. “What’s the matter? what makes you look so queer? -are you sick, Manuel?” - -“Yes!” cried the man roughly. “I am sick! sick of this place, sick of -these people. I am going away, back to the west, where a man can live -without being watched and spied upon and stung by ants and wasps.” - -“Going away! Manuel!” the poppies dropped from the girl’s hands, the -rich color fled from her cheeks. “If you go,” she said simply, “I shall -die.” Rachel had never learned to govern herself. - -Well, after that there was only one way out of it—at least for a man -like Manuel. Among all these cold, thin-blooded Eastern folk, here was -one whose blood ran warm and swift and red like his own. No satin lily -that a man dared not touch, but a bright poppy like those in her hair, -fit and ready to be gathered. Yet when he passed the white lilies, with -his arm round the girl, his promised wife—even while he looked down at -the rapture of her face and thrilled at the thrill in her voice—the -fragrance of the lilies seemed a tangible thing, like a thorn that -pierced him. - -At the garden door they parted. He had to see to the stock, he said; -would Rachel tell Grandmother? - -Rachel ran into the house, calling Grandmother. There was no answer; -but listening she heard the sound of the wheel in the big empty chamber -overhead. She ran up-stairs, still calling. Grandmother was spinning -wool—she loved to spin—at the great wool-wheel, stepping lightly -back and forward; but at the first sound of Rachel’s voice below she -stopped, and put her hand to her heart. She was standing so when the -girl rushed in, panting and radiant. - -“Grandmother! why didn’t you answer? didn’t you hear me?” She never -waited for an answer but ran on in a torrent of speech. “Grandmother, -I’ve been hateful to you, and I’m sorry. Do you hear? I’m sorry, -sorry; I’m so happy now, I mean to be good, good all the time. Do you -know what’s going to happen, Grandmother? guess! I’ll give you three -guesses—no, I won’t, I won’t give you one! I must tell you. I am going -to marry Manuel. Grandmother, are you glad? You are so good, I suppose -you’ll be glad. I should hate you, I should kill you, if it were you -who were going to marry Manuel. Do you know”—she caught her breath a -moment, then laughed on, the laugh rippling through her speech—“do you -know, Grandmother, I have been jealous of you. I’ve always been jealous -I guess; first because of Grandfather—poor old Grandfather, what a -pity he isn’t alive to know!—and then—and lately—oh, Grandmother, -I didn’t know—I didn’t know but he might care about you. Are you -laughing? it is funny, isn’t it?” But Grandmother was not laughing. - -“I might have known!” the girl went on, “I needn’t have been afraid, -need I, Grandmother? You aren’t like other folks, you’ve never lived; -you don’t know what life is, do you, Grandmother? I’d be sorry for you -if I wasn’t so glad for myself, so glad, so glad! Do you think I’m -crazy? I want to kiss you, little Grandmother! What’s the matter? did -my pin scratch you?” - -Grandmother had given a cry as the girl flung her arms round her; a -little low cry, instantly silent. - -“Yes—dear,” she said quietly, but with that little flutter in her -voice that one who loved her might have noticed; “I think it must have -been the pin. Oh, Rachel,” she said, “I hope you will be so happy, so -happy! I hope there will never be anything but happiness for you and -Manuel, my dear.” - -Rachel opened her dark eyes wide. “Why, of course there won’t!” she -said. - -“Grandmother’s all right!” she said an hour later, when she had run to -meet her lover in the dewy orchard, and they were coming home together -in the sunset light; “she’s all right. She didn’t say much—I don’t -know as I gave her a chance, Manuel. I had so much to say myself; but -she was real pleased, and wished me joy. She’s good, Grandmother is. I -mean never to be hateful to her again if I can help it. How sweet those -lilies smell, Manuel!” - -“Is she happy, do you think?” said Manuel; it seemed to say itself, -without will of his. - -“Who? Grandmother? of course she is! You don’t expect her to cry all -her life for an old man, do you? She’s as happy as a person can be who -has never lived. Hush! hear her singing this minute!” - -Yes! hear her singing, in the quiet twilight garden where she walks -alone. - - “‘Oh! brother, tell me here - Why hold that soul so dear?’ - ‘Because, alas! since e’er ’twas born, - I feel the piercing of its thorn.’” - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -HOW SHE WENT VISITING - - -IT was after Rachel’s marriage that Grandmother first began to go about -in the village. Till then she had always kept pretty much within the -four walls of the Merion garden, and people thought she was proud, -until they came to know her. But now a restlessness seemed to come -over her, and she was away from home a good deal. She did not go to -“circles” and meetings—one would as soon have expected to see a white -birch walk into the vestry—nor did she make what we loved to call -“society calls;” but she found out the people who were sick or sad -or lonely—the Peaces always knew—and she went to them, sometimes -with Anne to introduce her, oftener alone, making some errand, taking -a flower, or a pot of jelly or the like. Old Aunt Betsy Taggart was -living then, the white old woman who had taken to her bed so long ago -that none of us young folks ever knew why she had done it. Indeed, -I think Anne and I rather supposed she had always been there—grew -there, perhaps, like some strange old white flower. She was the most -independent old soul, Aunt Betsy. It seemed terrible for her to live -there alone, but it was the only way she would live. Her niece, Hepsy -Babbage, came in morning and evening, and “did for” the old lady, -but she was not allowed to stay more than an hour at a time. “My soul -is my own,” Aunt Betsy used to say, “and I like to be able to call it -so, my dear!” Hepsy was a great talker, certainly; and Aunt Betsy did -her own cooking over a lamp that stood on the table by her bed, and -actually made her own butter in a little churn that Wilbur Babbage made -for her the winter before he died. (Anne Peace never would let me say -that Wilbur was talked to death, but she could not prevent her mother’s -saying so.) - -Well, Grandmother and Aunt Betsy took to each other from the first -moment, and never a week passed that Grandmother did not spend an -afternoon with the old lady and take tea. Aunt Betsy seemed to know all -about her at once, which Anne and I never did, though we adored her. - -“Come here, child!” she said when she came in with Anne, the first -time. “I’ve heard of you, and I’m glad to see you. Come and let me have -a look at you!” She took Grandmother’s hand in hers, and the two looked -at each other, a long quiet look. “Ah!” said Aunt Betsy at last. “Yes, -I see. The upper and the nether millstone, my child!” - -Grandmother nodded simply; then in a moment she began to talk about the -flowers she had brought, and how Anne had helped her pick them, and -what a comfort Anne and her mother were to her. - -“Such good neighbors!” she said. “Such dear, good, kind, neighbors! -This place is so full of good people, Miss Taggart.” - -“They call me Aunt Betsy,” said the old lady, “and they call you -Grandmother, I’m told.” - -“Yes,” said Grandmother laughing; “that is my name, isn’t it, Anne?” - -Anne says that she had really forgotten that she had ever had any other -name. - -“We shall be friends, you and I!” said Aunt Betsy; “and you will find -good people wherever you look for them, my dear.” - -“Oh, yes, surely!” said Grandmother; and they looked at each other -again, that quiet understanding look. - -I don’t suppose Anne was very much younger than Grandmother, but she -felt a whole lifetime between them, and worshipped the older girl with -a very real worship. Grandmother took it sweetly and quietly, as she -took everything. When Anne brought some offering, the first bride-rose -from her bush, or a delicate cake, or a sunset-colored jelly in a glass -bowl, Grandmother would thank her affectionately, and admire the gift, -and then would say, “But it is too pretty for any well person, my dear. -Let us take it quickly to little Kitty who is so suffering with her -measles! or to poor old Mr. Peavy, whose rheumatism is bad this week.” - -Anne confessed to me that she sometimes wanted to say, “But I made it -for you, Grandmother, not for Mr. Peavy!” but I have often thought that -Anne was in a manner serving an apprenticeship to Grandmother, and -making ready, all unawares, for the life of love and sacrifice that she -too was to lead. - -Another of Grandmother’s friends was Parker Patton. He was bedridden, -too—I think we were rather proud of our two stationary (I cannot say -helpless) people; he had fallen from a haystack—a strong man he was, -in the prime and pride of life—and injured his spine so that he could -never walk again. - -He was not a pleasant man, most people thought; he had a crabbed, -knotty disposition, and who can wonder at it? The first time -Grandmother went to see him he snapped at her, like some strong surly -old dog. - -“Who are you?” he said, bending his bushy eyebrows over his bright dark -eyes. “Who is it?” to his wife, who was hovering with anxious civility. -“Gran’ther Merion’s widder? humph! you don’t look like a fool, but no -more did he. What ye want, hey?” - -“Oh, father!” said poor Mrs. Patton. “Don’t talk so! Mis’ Merion’s come -to visit with you a spell. I’m sure she’s real—” - -“Get out!” said Parker. “Get out of the room, d’ye hear?” - -The poor timid soul backed out, murmuring some apology to the visitor, -whom she expected to follow her; but Grandmother stood still, looking -at him with her quiet sweet eyes. - -“You can follow her!” said Parker. “She likes to see company; I don’t! -I speak plain, and say what I mean.” - -“I’ll go very soon!” said Grandmother. “I’d like to stay a few minutes; -may I?” - -“If I’m to be made a show of,” growled the cross old man, “I shall -charge admission same as any other show. Think it’s worth a quarter to -see a man with a broken back? If you do you can stay.” - -“I haven’t a quarter,” said Grandmother, “but it’s worth something to -sit down in this comfortable chair. Were you ever at sea, Mr. Patton?” - -“Ya-a-ow!” snarled Mr. Patton. It sounded almost as much like “no” as -“yes,” but Grandmother did not heed it much. She had dropped lightly -into the chair, and was looking at a picture that hung opposite the -bed; a colored lithograph of a ship under full sail. The workmanship -was rough and poor, but the waves were alive, and the ship moved. - -“I like that!” said Grandmother softly. “I never saw the sea, but I -knew a sailor once.” She began to sing very softly, hardly above her -breath. - - “There were two gallant ships - Put out to sea. - Sing high, sing low, and so sailed we. - The one was Prince of Luther and the other Prince of Wales; - Sailing down along the coast of the high Barbarie; - Sailing down along the coast of the high Barbarie.” - -“Who taught you that?” growled Parker Patton. - -“A sailor; his name was Neddard, Neddard Prowst. He came—” The sick -man started up on his elbows. - -“Neddard Prowst! he was a shipmate of mine; we sailed together three -years, and if I hadn’t come ashore like a grass-fool we might be -sailing yet. Where did you see Neddard, young woman?” - -“In the mountains. He came ashore; he thought he would like mining, but -he didn’t. He was always longing for the sea.” - -“Ah! I’ll lay my cargo he was. All seamen have their foolish times. I -thought I was tired of the sea; all I wanted in the world was to lay -under a tree and eat apples, day after day. Well—here I lay, and serve -me right. What about Neddard, young woman?” - -“He was very good to me,” she said. “He liked me to sit with him when -he was sick; he died a little before I came here. He taught me all the -songs. Do you remember, now, this one? - - “Hilo, heylo, - Tom was a merry boy, - Hilo, heylo, - Run before the wind! - Heave to, my jolly Jacky, - Pipe all for grog and baccy, - Hilo, heylo, - Run before the wind!” - -“Ay! many’s the time! did he learn you ‘Madagascar’? hey, what?” -Grandmother, for all reply, sang again: - - “Up anchor, ’bout ship, and off to Madagascar! - Cheerily, oh, cheerily, you hear the boat-swain call. - Don’t you ship a Portagee, nor don’t you ship a Lascar, - Nor don’t you ship a Chinaman, the worst of them all! - - “Up foresail, out jib, and off to Madagascar, - Call to Mother Carey for to keep her chicks at home. - Ship me next to Martinique, or ship me to Alaska, - But Polly’s got my heart at anchor, ne’er to roam.” - -By and by when poor Mrs. Patton ventured to put her timid head inside -the door, she kept it there, too astonished to move. - -Parker lay back on his pillows with a look such as she had not seen for -many a long day. His thin hands were beating time on the coverlet, and -he and Grandmother were singing together: - - “Silver and gold in the Lowlands, Lowlands, - Silver and gold in the Lowlands low; - On the quay so shady - I met a pretty lady, - She stole away my heart in the Lowlands low. - - “Di’monds and pearls in the Lowlands, Lowlands, - Di’monds and pearls in the Lowlands low; - Daddy was a tailor, - But I will die a sailor, - And bury me my heart in the Low lands low!” - -When the song was finished the old sailor looked up and saw his wife -gaping in the doorway. - -“Great bobstays! ‘Liza,” he said, “Ain’t you got a drop of cider for -Mis’ Merion to wet her throat with? You’d let her sing herself dry as -pop-corn, I believe, and never stir a finger.” - -“Oh, _Mr._ Patton!” said the poor woman, and went to fetch the cider, a -great content shining in her face. It was a good day when her husband -said “Great bobstays!” - -Meantime Grandmother was not much missed at the Farm. Manuel indeed -seemed more at ease when she was not there; he did not look at her much -in these days, nor speak to her except when need was. She never seemed -to notice, but was quiet and cheerful as she always had been. - -As for Rachel, she saw nothing, heard nothing, but Manuel. She seemed -all day in a kind of breathless dream of joy. But she meant to be good -to Grandmother. She was glad that Grandmother had given up her room -to them, and taken the little back one; she gloried in sitting at the -head of the table once more, and ruling all like a queen. Manuel said -she was a queen; “Queen Poppy” he used to call her; and Rachel thought -it quite true; if only she had had the luck to be born a princess, and -Manuel a prince! Yes, she meant to be good to Grandmother. - -“Why, Grandmother,” she said one day at table, “your hair is beginning -to turn! Look, Manuel! see the white hairs!” - -Manuel looked, and his face darkened, but he said nothing. - -“I declare,” said Rachel, “that’s queer enough. I’d like to know what -care you have, Grandmother, to turn your hair gray. I expect it’s not -having any that’s done it.” - -“Yes, Rachel,” said Grandmother; “perhaps that is it.” - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -HOW THE LIGHT CAME TO HER - - -ALL this was before the child came. With the coming of that little -creature the world changed once more for Grandmother. It was in the -early autumn; the cardinal flowers were past, but the St.-John’s-wort -was in its bloom of tarnished gold, and the fringed gentian, too, was -beginning to open its blue eyes. Anne Peace remembered this, because -she had just been out gathering gentians, and was coming home with her -hands full of the lovely things, when she saw her mother come to the -door of Merion House and wave a white apron. Anne dropped the flowers. -“Oh! Rachel!” she said; and came running over. The white apron meant -that it was a girl; if it were a boy the blue tablecloth was to be -waved. - -“Doing well!” said Mother Peace. “Grandmother has the baby in the back -chamber; you can see it, if you like, Anne, only go quiet.” - -As if Anne were ever anything but quiet! Noiselessly she sped up the -back stairs, and opened the door of the little bedchamber. There she -saw—Madonna! - -Grandmother was sitting in a low rocking-chair, with the baby in her -arms, bending over it with eyes of worship. - -“Hush, Annie!” she said softly. “Come and see a piece of heaven!” - -Anne thought the heaven was in Grandmother’s face; she never saw, she -said, such an angel look. She came nearer, and looked at the tiny -creature nestling in its blankets. One little pink fist was waving -feebly. Grandmother lifted it and laid it against her cheek. - -“Little velvet rose-leaf!” she murmured. “Look, Anne! see the -perfectness of this! The little pink pearls of nails, the tiny precious -thumbkin. Oh, wonderful, wonderful! How good God is, to let us begin in -this heavenly way. How can we ever be anything but good and lovely, -when we begin like this?” - -“Some of us can’t,” said little Anne shyly. “She is a darling, -Grandmother. Has Rachel seen her?” - -A shade passed over Grandmother’s rapt face. “Not yet!” she said. “She -ought to. If you see your mother, Anne, you might tell her that baby -is washed and dressed. Darling, your gown should be made of white -rose-leaves, shouldn’t it? and you the little blush-rose heart? Oh, -little piece of heaven, how could they let you go?” - -Anne stole away; looking back at the door, she saw that Grandmother had -forgotten her and all the world except the child; again it seemed Mary -that she was looking at; Mary in adoration, as she had seen her in an -old engraving. - -[Illustration: “GRANDMOTHER HAD FORGOTTEN ALL THE WORLD EXCEPT THE -CHILD.”] - -With the awe and wonder of this still on her, she crept along the -passage, past the door of Rachel’s room, which stood ajar. A fretful -voice was speaking. “No, I don’t want to see it. I never wanted any -at all, but if I had to have one I wanted a boy; I don’t want a girl. -I won’t bother with it. It’s hard enough to have to be one, and go -through what I’ve been through—and then to have a girl! it ain’t fair; -it’s real mean!” An angry sob followed, and Mother Peace’s calm voice -was heard. - -“You want to be quiet now, Rachel, and try to get a nap. You’ll feel -different when you’ve seen your baby. Shut your eyes now and mebbe -you’ll drop off, while I go and get you some gruel.” - -“I hate gruel!” said Rachel; “I won’t touch it, Mis’ Peace, I tell you!” - -Mother Peace came out quietly and drew the door to. Seeing Anne she -nodded, and beckoned her to follow down-stairs, but did not speak till -she had gained the kitchen. - -“Anne,” she said. “You needn’t tell me. There’s mistakes made up yonder -sometimes same as other places; maybe some of the angels is young and -careless. But that baby’ll soon find out who its real mother is, you -see if it don’t.” - -“Why, Mother Peace,” said Anne, “how you talk!” - -“Some one has to talk!” said her mother kindly. “You are little better -than a dumb image, Anne, when a person wants to free her mind. You -might stir this gruel if you’ve a mind to, while I go up and take a -look at those two lambs, and I don’t mean Rachel Merion by neither one -of ‘em.” - -Strange and terrible as it seems, Rachel did not grow fond of her baby. -She had made up her mouth, she said, for a boy; she had never liked -girl babies, and she wasn’t going to pretend that she did. - -“You needn’t look like that, Grandmother, as if you expected the sky to -fall on me. I’m one that isn’t afraid to say what I think, and I think -it’s real mean, so now, and I never shall think anything else.” - -Manuel too was greatly disappointed. Rachel had been so absolutely -sure, that he too had counted on the promised boy, feeling somehow -that she must know. They had named the child—Orlando Harold was to be -his name. He was to have Manuel’s eyes and Rachel’s hair, and was to -be President or Major-General; this was the only point that was not -settled. And now—still Manuel felt a stirring at his heart, when he -saw the little fair creature in Grandmother’s arms. “After all, there -have to be girls!” he said. - -“I didn’t have to have one,” said Rachel, flouncing away from him. - -Mother Peace, while she nursed Rachel faithfully and sturdily, grew -more and more rigid with indignation. - -“Take this broth!” she would say. “Yes, you will; take every sup of it; -there! If ’twasn’t for my living duty I’d put whole peppercorns into -it, Rachel Merion. Such actions! what the Lord was thinking of I don’t -know.” For Rachel was not nursing the baby; said she could not, she -should die. - -“I want a free foot,” she said; “and they do just as well on a bottle, -Mis’ Peace.” - -“They do not!” said Mrs. Peace. “I’ll trouble you not to teach me to -suck eggs, Rachel. Now you are going to take a nap, and much good may -it do you!” - -“I’m not!” said Rachel. - -“You are!” said Mrs. Peace, and drew down the shades and went out -closing the door after her. - -Mrs. Peace’s indignation even extended to Grandmother. “I believe she -don’t care, either!” she said. “Grandmother, I really believe you don’t -care that Rachel is a heathen and a publican, and had ought to be -slapped instead of fed and cockered up.” - -Grandmother looked up with a face so radiant, it seemed to startle the -whole room into sudden light. - -“Oh, but she will!” she said. “She will care, dear Mrs. Peace. She -can’t possibly help it, you know, when she comes to get about and hold -the little darling angel, and feel its little blessedness all warm in -her arms. She can’t help it then, my Precious Precious, can she? Oh, -Mrs. Peace, she is smiling. Anne, Anne, come quick, she is smiling.” - -“Wind!” said Mrs. Peace calmly. - -Grandmother flushed and looked almost angry. “How can you, Mrs. Peace?” -she said. “But I know better, I know! I almost heard them whisper; I -almost heard the rustle—” - -“What rustle?” asked Anne under her breath. - -But Grandmother only smiled down at baby. “Rachel says I may name her!” -she said. “Isn’t that kind of her?” - -Mrs. Peace sniffed. - -“What shall you call her?” asked Anne. - -“Faith!” said Grandmother. “Sweet little Faith, God bless her! and God -bless us, and give us wisdom to rear His heavenly flower fit for His -garden.” - -Anne and I always said that the most beautiful sight we had ever seen -was Baby Faith’s christening. It was in October, a bright glorious -day. Grandmother hung great branches of maple everywhere, making the -sitting-room a royal chamber with scarlet and gold. Rachel had come -down for the first time and was on the sofa in a scarlet wrapper, and -Grandmother had crowned her with golden leaves, and told her she was -the queen, and had come to the christening feast of the princess. -Rachel was all ready to be crowned and petted. She kept Manuel close -by her side, or sent him now and then on some little errand across the -room, never further—and snatched him back again jealously. She did not -want him even to look at the baby, though she liked well enough now to -look at it herself, had even grown a little vain of it because people -admired it so. - -“I think it’s real good of me to let you name her, Grandmother!” she -said jealously. “And giving her such a mean, poor-sounding name too: -so old-fashioned. Ruby Emerald is the name I should have picked out, -and after all she’s my baby and not yours; but I’m not going back on -what I said. I never would do that, though if I was in your place I -shouldn’t want she should have a name her own mother despised.” - -I don’t think Grandmother always listened to Rachel; she certainly did -not seem to hear her now, for now the minister came in, dear old Parson -Truegood. He stopped a moment in the doorway, looking at Grandmother, -standing there in her white dress with the baby in her arms. I think -the same thought was in his mind that had come to Anne—the thought of -Mary and the Child—for he bowed his head as if in prayer, just for a -minute. Then he came in, with his cheery smile, and had just the right -word for Rachel and Manuel, and all the time it was at the other two he -looked. - -Little Faith was one of those babies that are beautiful from the very -first. Some people will tell you there are none such, but do not -believe them. Even the first day there was no mottled depth of redness, -only a kind of velvet rose color. That soon faded away and left the -white rose instead that Grandmother always called her. She was not -pasty white, nor waxen white; it was a clear rosy whiteness; you see, I -have only the same word to say over again. White Rose; that is what she -was. And every little feature perfect, as if carved with a fairy-fine -tool; and her eyes like stars in blue water. Except Grandmother -herself, she was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. - -She was asleep when the service began; but when the water touched her -forehead she woke, and looked up and smiled, a heavenly smile. - -Grandmother looked up too, as if she saw some one, or thought to see; -and I saw a listening look come over her face, as if she heard some -sound, or hoped to hear. And when, a moment later, she knelt down to -pray, she moved her dress a little aside, as if making room for some -one. Anne knew what it meant. Grandmother had told her. “I believe,” -she said, “that a baby’s angel stays by till after it is christened. I -can’t tell you just how I know, but I hear—sometimes—I hear sounds -that aren’t this-world sounds. And some one speaks to me—without -words, yet I understand—oh, yes, I understand.” - -It was a pretty fancy; she was full of pretty fancies, many of them -coming, I suppose, from her lonely childhood. - -And so Baby Faith was christened, and became the light of Grandmother’s -life. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -HOW HER HAIR TURNED WHITE - - -NOW followed the golden time of Grandmother’s life. I hardly know how -to describe the change that came over her with the coming of little -Faith. She seemed to grow taller, straighter, fuller. The windflower -was gone, and instead there was a tall white lily, growing firm and -strong, sending its roots deep down, spreading its broad green leaves -and silver petals abroad to the sun. - -She took all the care of the baby. Rachel was not strong, and could not -bear to lose sleep, and Grandmother joyfully declared that she slept -the better for having the cradle beside her bed. Rachel slept late, -and Grandmother would take Baby down and tuck her up in Grandfather’s -great chair while she got breakfast for Manuel and herself, and then -made ready the pretty tray for Rachel. Then out she would run into the -garden with the child in her arms, to get the morning dew. - - “The morning dew to make you fair, - The morning sun to curl your hair; - The birds to sing to you, - Fly to you, bring to you - Everything sweet from everywhere.” - -We realized now that many of Grandmother’s little songs were her own; -we could see them making; they came bubbling up like bird-songs, and -she would try one word and another, one note and another, till all was -to her mind. - -“How do you do it, Grandmother?” Anne Peace would say. And Grandmother -would laugh and say, “I don’t, Anne. There isn’t any making about it; -they just come.” - -She never used to laugh, except with the children, but now she was full -of laughter and singing. How could she help it? she would say. Who -could help singing with a baby in the house, and such a baby as Faith? - -The children were inclined to be jealous at first, all except -“Saturday Nelly,” as they called the little lame girl. She simply -fell down and worshipped with Grandmother. The others—well, it seemed -strange to some of them, especially the boys, to have such a fuss -made over a baby. They had babies at home, that looked (they thought -in their ignorance) very like this one; but no one ever called them -rose-leaf princesses or lily-bell angels. To be sure, they often -cried—squalled, the boys called it—and this one never seemed to, just -smiled and cooed. - -“Why should she cry,” said Grandmother, “when she is well and happy? -If she cries, children, it is our fault, and we must be whipped round -the garden with bramble whips all over thorns. So dance now, and make -her laugh!” Then they all would dance, and Baby Faith would leap in -Grandmother’s arms, and crow, and wave her little arms. - -“Where did she come from?” asked a little girl. - -“Oh, I was just singing about that before you came,” said Grandmother. -“Listen now, and you shall hear. - - “Down from the sky came - Little White Rose; - How they could spare her - Nobody knows. - Through the gate slipping, - Down the air tripping, - What she could tell us, - If she but chose! - - Down to the earth came - Little White Rose, - Sadly the gold gates - After her close; - Left them all sighing, - Sobbing and crying; - Will they come after her, - Do you suppose?” - -“Will who come?” asked Benny Mack. - -“Angels!” said Grandmother. “Troops of them, all shining with great -white wings spread, and white lily-dresses; look up there, Benny! what -do you see in the blue?” - -“Clouds!” said Benny. - -“Yes,” said Grandmother. “But I see something else, Benny; a -white-lily lady sitting in a cloudy chair. Don’t you see her, Nelly? -Stay up there, lily-lady; don’t come down here! Baby Faith is very -well, you cannot have her back.” - -“Do you know, children,” she said, lowering her voice, “do you know all -the things that happened the day Baby came? You don’t? come and sit -round here, all of you! Nelly-Nell, you shall—oh, Nelly, you are so -good and dear and patient, you shall hold her a little, while I tell. -Listen now! - - “The lily-bells rang at the sight of her, - The sunflower turned to the light of her, - The little black mole - Crept out of his hole, - Just to peep at the darling delight of her. - - “The daisies all danced ’neath the feet of her, - The roses turned faint at the sweet of her; - The firefly’s spark - Came and lit up the dark, - Just to show us the picture complete of her!” - -Two years; two golden, beautiful, heavenly years. Then—it will not be -easy to tell this part, yet it must be told. - -Anne Peace thinks I am hard upon Rachel; her mother used to think I was -just the reverse. She always seemed to me the one wholly selfish person -I ever knew. She loved Manuel passionately; but so jealously that she -did not even like to see him caress the baby, but would call him to her -side, or make some excuse to give the child to Grandmother. And yet -she was so jealous of Grandmother too! I do not think she ever cared -much for the baby, yet she would have fits of jealous rage now and then. - -“I’d like to know whose baby that is, Grandmother!” she would say. -Grandmother would look up with the rapt smile she always wore when -little Faith was in her arms. - -“Whose baby? why, Rachel, don’t you know? White Rose, look at mother! -throw a kiss to mother!” - -“I don’t know as I do!” Rachel would go on. “I thought ’twas mine; I -didn’t know as you’d had one, Grandmother, but maybe I was mistaken; -maybe I just thought I had a baby, and she was yours all along.” - -Then suddenly stamping her foot, she would flash out in the old way. - -“I want you should understand that that child belongs to me and Manuel, -and to no one else. I won’t have my own child taken away from me; I -tell you I won’t! Give me my baby this minute!” And she would snatch -the child from Grandmother’s arms. Of course then the poor little thing -would begin to cry, frightened by her wild looks and angry voice, and -this only enraged Rachel more. “You’ve turned her against me!” she -shrieked. “You’ve stole her away from me, you wicked, wicked—” here -she would break into a passion of furious sobs; and Grandmother would -take the baby out of her arms and go away without a word, leaving her -to storm and rave till Manuel came in to pet and caress her into good -humor again. - -But again, it would be Manuel at whom she would storm, accusing him of -abetting Grandmother in her designs upon the baby; or still again, if -she had her wish of the moment, and the baby was left with her for a -few minutes, she would find herself ill-used and neglected, and left -with all the care of the child on her hands. Well! poor Rachel! - -One day—it was a bright fair day, like any other summer day—Manuel -had promised to take Rachel for a drive. “We might take Faith!” he -said; he had grown very fond of the little one since she began to talk. - -“I don’t know as I want to!” said Rachel, who was in a bad mood. “I’d -like to have a chance to talk to you once in awhile myself, Manuel.” - -“I’ll take Baby out in her carriage,” said Grandmother happily. “We’ll -go to the woods, won’t we, White Rose?” - -That was enough. “No, you won’t!” said Rachel. “If she’s going out she -can come with us. You put on her things, Grandmother, while I get mine.” - -Grandmother carried little Faith out to the wagon, and put her into her -mother’s arms, and waited to see them start. It was surely a pretty -sight, Anne Peace said; she was watching from her window. Rachel had a -gipsy hat full of scarlet poppies tied with scarlet ribbons under her -chin. Manuel was bare-headed, his crisp black curls framing his brown -handsome face; and between the two dark beauties the little White Rose -with her silver curls and apple-blossom face. She was dancing up and -down on Rachel’s lap, clapping her hands at the horse. A little piece -of quicksilver she was. - -“Hold her tight, won’t you, Rachel?” said Grandmother; “she does jump -about so, bless her!” - -“I guess I know how to hold my own child!” said Rachel. - -So—they started, and Grandmother waved good-bye, and then went back -to the house with a still look; peaceful and serene, but the radiant -light gone out of her face. - -No one was ever to see that light again. - -They were gone about an hour. Grandmother was in the garden watching -for them, when they came back. It did not need her eyes to see that -something was terribly, terribly wrong. Manuel was driving furiously, -lashing the horse, who galloped his best. Rachel was in a heap on the -floor of the wagon moaning and crying; what was that little white drift -on her knees, with the red stain creeping— - -No! no! I cannot tell that part. - -Next moment Grandmother had the child in her arms. She towered like an -avenging angel over the wretched parents, who cowered at her feet. - -“She isn’t dead!” shrieked Rachel. “Grandmother, Grandmother, say she -isn’t dead. She’s only stunned a little, I tell you. She—lost her -balance—” - -But Manuel cried out hoarsely: “No lies now! we were quarrelling, and -we forgot her. She sprang out—” he choked, and no more words came. - -“_Only one hour!_” said Grandmother. Three words; her terrible eyes -said the rest. - -Grandmother fought for the child’s life, silently, desperately. The -doctor came, a kind, quiet man, and they worked together. He said a few -cheering words; but meeting Mrs. Peace’s eyes, he shook his head sadly. - -It lasted an hour or more; the spirit nestled wonderingly in the little -broken body, lately all light and strength and answering joy. The sweet -eyes opened once or twice, seeking the face that had been their sun. It -was there, bending close; it smiled, and White Rose smiled back. The -last time, the baby arms moved, fluttered up toward Grandmother, then -dropped; the eyes closed. - -Presently the doctor rose and went out, with bowed head; he was a -father of children. The elder woman, weeping silently, went to the -window and opened it wide; and the sunset light, rosy and clear, -streamed in on Grandmother, sitting motionless, with the dead child in -her arms. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -HOW SHE FOUND PEACE - - -NEXT day her hair was quite white, as if it had been snowed on in the -night. But she was herself again, and went quietly about the house, -doing all that had to be done, and waiting on Rachel, who lay moaning -and crying in her darkened room, exhausted after a night of hysterical -passion. Grandmother brought the breakfast tray, and bathed her face -and hands and brushed her hair, in silence; she seemed unconscious of -her sobs and tears. - -“I think you might say something, Grandmother!” Rachel whimpered. -“It’s dreadful enough, without your going about looking like a stone -image. It isn’t your baby that—oh, dear! and just as I was getting so -fond of her. She was just getting to the interesting age. Oh, it’s too -awful; isn’t it, Grandmother?” - -Grandmother did not heed her, but went on brushing the heavy black hair -mechanically. - -“I know you were fond of her,” said Rachel, “and I sha’n’t say a word -about your keeping her away from me so much. But of course you can’t -pretend to feel what I do, Grandmother. You’ve never had a child, you -don’t know what a mother feels. You’ve never had anything to feel, -really, all your life. Oh, dear! oh, dear! and Manuel takes it so hard; -I’m sure I don’t know what is going to become of us. Grandmother, if -you are going to be like a wooden stick, I wish you’d go away and send -Manuel to me.” - -Grandmother went without a word. At the door she met the kind old -minister, the same who christened Baby Faith—ah, how long ago? She -led him aside to the hall window, and with one hand on his arm pointed -upward with the other. - -“He let it happen. He sent the little life, and then let it be crushed -out like the life of a fly or a worm. Why?” - -Her eyes looked through and through him, but the wise old eyes looked -back steadily and kindly. - -“Daughter,” he said. “His great laws are not made to be broken. When -we transgress them, it is ourselves we break, against their divine and -unchangeable order.” - -Grandmother’s head dropped on her bosom. “I see!” she said. - -She stood there quietly for awhile after he had gone in to see Rachel; -then she went to find Manuel. - -Manuel was sitting in the kitchen, his head in his hands, staring -moodily before him. He looked up as Grandmother came in, looked at her -with haggard eyes, then dropped his head again. - -“Go away!” he said hoarsely. “Go away, you white thing! What have you -to do with murderers?” - -“I never saw one,” said Grandmother simply. “Poor Manuel, come out into -the garden. It isn’t good for you to sit here and brood.” - -“One place is as good as another,” said Manuel. “Leave me alone in the -hell we have made, she and I.” - -Grandmother did not speak for a time; then she said, “Manuel, God’s -will must be done in hell as much as anywhere else.” - -“God!” said Manuel; and he laughed, an ugly laugh. “Do you still -believe in God after yesterday?” - -“Oh, so much more!” said Grandmother; and she added softly as if she -were saying over a lesson that she had learned by heart, “His great -laws may not be broken. When we transgress them, it is ourselves we -break—Come, Manuel, come out into the sunshine.” - -She spoke as to a child, and like a child he obeyed, and followed her -out into the blossoming garden, all life and color and fragrance. As -the glory shone upon him, the young man staggered on the threshold and -uttered a groan; then he glanced at Grandmother. “Your hair is as white -as snow!” he said. - -“Is it?” said Grandmother. “It doesn’t matter. We must gather flowers, -all the brightest flowers, Manuel, for Little One. She liked the gay -ones best, and there is nothing else to do—now.” - -She moved away slowly, among her flowers; she had grown heavy-footed -since yesterday; and the man followed her with hanging head. - - * * * * * - -The thing that was between them, instead of drawing Rachel and her -husband together, seemed to turn them against each other. There were -bitter words, words that pierced and stung like poisoned arrows; and -every quarrel left Rachel more hysterical, Manuel more gloomy and -silent, brooding over that sweet past that had been flung into the dust. - -Grandmother would come out of her dream and try hard to make peace, -and she could always quiet Manuel, but that often exasperated Rachel -the more. When the bitter tongue was turned against her she did not -seem to hear, but lapsed again into the listless half-dreaming state -in which she lived now, moving softly, doing with exquisite care -everything that was to be done, but seeming little conscious of what -was going on around her. - -Then came the day when Rachel rushed wild-eyed into her room, as she -sat sewing by the empty cradle. - -“Grandmother,” she cried; “something is the matter with Manuel. -He’s—sick; he won’t speak to me. Go and see what is the matter, quick!” - -Grandmother went into the kitchen. Manuel was sitting by the table -as he was that other day, his head in his hands. He looked up and -smiled at her, a dull, foolish smile. “Grandmother,” he said thickly, -“I’m glad—see you. I sent the other one away. She’s no good; I’ve -had enough of her. No good! but you, Grandmother—you weren’t always -Grandmother; what’s your other name? I know—Pitia! give me a kiss, -Pitia! I always liked you best, you know.” - -He rose and staggered toward her. She recoiled, her arms stretched out, -her face alight with anguish. “Don’t come a step nearer!” she cried. -“Manuel—not a step!” - -He stopped and stared at her stupidly. Suddenly, swiftly, her face -changed, softened into pity and tenderness “Poor Manuel!” she said. -“Poor boy! come out into the air; come with me!” Again the quiet hand -rested on his arm, compelling him, again he stumbled out into the good -clear blessed sunshine. Poor Manuel! - -Grandmother brought water and bathed his aching head, and made him lie -down under the great russet-apple tree where the shade was thick and -cool, and bade him sleep till the headache was over. Then she came back -to Rachel, who watched half-jealous, half-terrified, from the hall -window. - -What need to dwell on the time that followed? Manuel had found the -thing that—for the moment—deadened the pain at his heart and dulled -his ears to Rachel’s reproaches and complaints. - -Some latent poison in the blood—who can read these mysteries?—made -the drink a fire that consumed him. He wasted away, and hugged his -destroyer ever closer to him. Grandmother battled for his life, as she -had for that other sweet life which was the light of her own; Rachel -looked on terrified and helpless. - -Then came the winter night when he fell down senseless by the garden -gate and lay there all night, while the women watched and waited in the -house. It was Grandmother who found him. She had persuaded Rachel to -lie down, and then thrown a cloak over her wrapper and crept out in the -gray iron-bound dawn to look down the road for one who might be coming -stumbling along, and might need help to gain the house; and she saw the -frozen face glimmering up from the snow-bank where he lay. - -There was one cry; a long low cry that shivered through the still -frosty air; but no one heard. - -How could she carry him in? We never knew; she never spoke of it; -but no one else saw him till he was laid decently in his bed and the -staring eyes closed. Then she called his wife. - -The doctor came again, and good Mrs. Peace, and all was done that might -be; but it was a bitter night, and all was over, as Grandmother knew at -the first sight of that glimmering face. Poor Manuel! A fire of straw, -as Mother Peace said. - -It was after this that Grandmother had the long illness; when she lay -for weeks speechless and motionless, with barely strength enough to -move her little finger for “Yes” or “No” when we asked her a question. -I helped Mrs. Peace and Anne with the nursing. Rachel had gone away -to her mother’s people. Sometimes, indeed many times, we thought she -was gone; she lay so still; and we could not catch even the slightest -flutter of breath. I remember those nights so well; one moonlight night -in particular. We knew how she loved the moonlight, and opened the -shutters wide. It was a cold still night, the snow silver white under -the moon. The light poured in full and strong on the bed where she lay -like an ivory statue, and turned the ivory to silver. I thought she -was dying then, and thought what a beautiful way to die, the heavenly -spirit mounting along the moon-path, leaving that perfect image there -at rest. - -[Illustration: “SHE LAY LIKE AN IVORY STATUE.”] - -That was in February. April found her still lying there, just -breathing, no more. The doctor gave a little hope, now; she might slip -away any time, he said, but still it had lasted so long, there must be -a reserve of strength; it was possible that she might come through it. - -One bright warm April day we had opened the windows, and the air came -in sweet and fresh, and the robins were singing loud and merry in the -budding apple-trees. - -Suddenly from the road outside came a child’s laugh; sweet and clear it -rang out like a silver bell, and at the sound the ivory figure in the -bed moved. A slight shiver rippled through it from head to foot. The -eyes opened and looked at us, clear and calm. - -Dear Anne Peace knelt down beside the bed and took the slender -transparent hands in hers, the tears running down her face. -“Grandmother,” she said, “you are going to get well now—for the -children! Spring has come, Grandmother dear, and the children need you!” - -She did get well. Slowly but surely life and strength returned; by -June she was in the garden again with the children around her. Not -the same, not the light-foot girl who frolicked and ran with the other -children, but as you all remember her; serene, clear-eyed, cheerful, -full of wisdom, grace, tenderness. Grandmother! who in this village -does not remember her? To you young people she seemed an old woman, -with her snow-white hair and ivory face, drawn into deep patient lines. -She was not fifty when she died. - -During the twenty years she had yet to live, what a benediction her -days were to old and young! - -People came to her with their joys and their sorrows. Strangers came, -from outlying places, and brought their troubles to her; they had -heard, no one knows how, that she had power and wisdom beyond that -of other women. I met one of these strangers once. I was going in to -see Grandmother, and I met a lady coming away; a handsome lady, richly -dressed. She had been weeping, but her face was full of light. - -She looked at me. “Young woman,” she said, “do you live near here?” - -“Yes, madam,” I said; “close by, in that brown cottage.” - -“Yours is a high privilege,” she said, “to dwell so near to heaven.” - -She looked back to the house and kissed her hand to it; then beckoned, -and a fine carriage came up and she drove away. I never knew who she -was. - -I found Grandmother sitting quietly with her knitting, by the empty -cradle. - -“What did you say to that lady, Grandmother?” I asked, though I knew -next moment I should not have done it. - -“I told her an old lesson, my dear,” said Grandmother; “a lesson I -learned long ago.” - -Once it was Saturday Nelly who came; Nelly, now grown a woman—if it -could be called growing. - -“Grandmother,” she said, “look at me, and tell me what you see.” - -Grandmother looked into the pale drawn face with its strange eyes. - -“Nelly dear,” she said, “I see a face that I love, a face full of truth -and goodness.” - -“You see a monster!” said the poor girl. She made a passionate gesture -toward a mirror that hung opposite them; indeed, the glass showed a -strange contrast. - -“Look!” she said. “Look, Grandmother, and tell me! When one is shut up -in a prison like that, full of pain and horror—hasn’t one a right to -get out if one can?” - -Seeing the wonder in Grandmother’s face she hurried on. “Father’s dead; -poor father! I would not let myself think of it while he was living. -He is dead, and there is no one else—except you, Angel, and you would -understand, wouldn’t you? If I put this thing to sleep”—she struck her -heart fiercely—“and slipped out of prison—Grandmother, what harm -would it do? what harm _could_ it do?” - -“Nelly! Nelly dear,” said Grandmother, “you couldn’t—could you—go -with your lesson half-learned? Such a strange, wonderful lesson, -Nelly, and you have been learning so well. To go there, and when they -asked you, have to say ‘I didn’t finish, I left it half-done, because -I didn’t like it;’ _could_ you do that, do you think, Nelly dear? -because—it wouldn’t be ready at the other end either, don’t you see, -darling? It wouldn’t fit in. You haven’t thought of that, have you, -Nelly?” - -Nelly hid her face in her hands, and there was a long silence. -Presently she spoke, low and trembling. - -“Grandmother—suppose there wasn’t any other end! Suppose I couldn’t -see—suppose I didn’t believe there was—anything more—when this -hateful thing”—she plucked at her poor twisted body as if she would -have torn it—“is buried out of sight with the other worms! what then?” - -“Oh, Nelly!” said Grandmother softly. “Nelly dear! if it were so; if -this were the only lesson, mustn’t we try all the harder to learn it -well? if this should be our only chance to help and love and tend and -cheer, would we give up one minute of the time? Oh, no! Nelly, no! -Think a little, my dear! think a little!” - -We all remember Saturday Nelly, in the little shop that Grandmother -set up for her, selling sweeties to the children, selling thread and -needles and tape, tending her birds and flowers, the cheeriest, gayest -little soul in the village. Her shop was a kind of centre of merry -innocent chatter for young and old; it was full from morning to night. -We never thought much about Nelly’s looks except when we spoke of -Grandmother; then her face grew beautiful. - -I think the children loved Grandmother better even than in her -girl-days. - -The Saturday feasts were quieter, but still full of light and joy, and -the stories—well, they were like no other stories that ever were told. - - “And oh! the words that fell from her mouth, - Were words of wisdom and of truth.” - -So she lived, blessing and blessed, twenty more heavenly years; and so, -when God called her, she died. We found her one morning sitting by the -little cradle, her head resting on it, and a white rose in her quiet -hand. When we raised her face and looked at it, there was no need to -ask whither the spirit had gone. - - * * * * * - -And Rachel? A year after Manuel died, she married a man from a -neighboring village, a masterful man who broke her over his knee like a -willow switch, and whom she adored for the rest of her life. She bore -him sons and daughters, and grew—comparatively—cheerful and placid. - -She came to see Grandmother now and then, and marvelled at her. - -“How you do age, Grandmother!” she would say. “And you without a care -in the world. I wonder what would have happened if you had really -lived, as I have!” - - - THE END. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Grandmother, by Laura E. 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