Kitabı oku: «A Modern Cinderella», sayfa 7
CHAPTER IX
THE LITTLE THORNS
They were all very glad to be home again. The house was so clean and orderly and there were so many closets and drawers in which to pack away things. Bridget had scoured and scrubbed and polished windows largely to pass away time, for the people next door had been away as well and the maids on a vacation earning money at seasides.
“Oh, I’m so glad to see you again!”
Marilla was hugging Bridget and her tone was full of delight.
“Ah, dear, an’ it’s glad enough I am to get ye back, but you’ve not grown very fat an’ rugged looking, but them babies do beat all! They’re quite ginteel one may say, an how they do run and talk! You’ll have your hands full, I’m thinkin’, if they’re goin’ to copy Jack!”
“Oh, Bridget, they’re real sweet, only they’re noisy when your head’s tired. It sounds worse indoors. There was a big out of doors and grass, and people passing and some children came in to play. But now you have to look after them all the time.”
“Marilla! Marilla!”
No, she could not waste her time in the chimney corner.
“Put on the babies’ things and take them out walking, they’ll drive me crazy.”
She walked them round to Loraine place. Would she dare call? Oh, how her heart yearned to see them all again! but the blinds were drawn; perhaps no one was at home.
Then as they were going down the street, just at the corner, a lady and two girls about her size crossed. The lady and one of them lived about a block further down Arch street. The other she had known at the seaside. She smiled with a sudden pleasant surprise. The girl simply stared. Marilla’s face was scarlet. Was it possible she was not to know any of these girls if she should meet them? This one did not live here, she knew that.
Then Aunt Hetty came home looking thinner and more dried up than ever, but glad to get back to her room. She would not come down to dinner but M’rilla could bring her up some toast and tea.
So instead of having a cozy time with Bridget she carried the small waiter up stairs. The tea was in the pot; Aunt Hetty had the kettle boiling on the gas stove. The toast was on a hot plate.
“Sit down a minute, I’ve hardly seen you. Did you have a nice time? I suppose the twins will be on the everlasting trot, now they can walk so well, and as for talking – well I’m glad I don’t have to live with them; that I’m clear this end of the house. You see that they don’t come up stairs. It’s nice to be in your own place, though the folks where I staid were very good and pleasant, I s’pose they thought I might remember them in my will,” and she gave a shrill sort of cackle. “Now I tell you there isn’t much fun in living to be old, and I seem to have lost my spunk. It’s just a kind of drowsing life away. Now tell me what you did! My, but this toast tastes good! Better than all their flummery.”
“Oh, there were a good many nice things and pretty houses and gay people, and a big place where they all went to meals. And Jack is better than he used to be, he had the nicest little playmate and was out of the house most of the time. But I must run down, for Bridget said my dinner was ready. I’ll come up again when the babies are in bed; can I bring you anything?”
“Well, yes, a glass of hot milk. No, bring it in a cup with a handle – it is so much nicer to hold. You’re a good willing girl, Marilla.”
“I thought you never would get down,” Bridget said, almost crossly. “If you have to wait on that old woman and all the rest of us you’ll wish you were in the grave. My! You look all tired out. Now, here’s a nice bit of chicken that I laid aside for you. I’m not goin’ to have you fed on leavings. And it wasn’t nice down there?” nodding her head.
“Oh, Bridget, such a kitchen and such a table, and no white cloth on it! They, the servants didn’t seem to care, and they were nice and clean at the Home, and you’re – well, you have things as nice as in the dining room, and to have things shoveled out of the kettle on your plate or cold on a dish! Sometimes puddings were good, and the creams and frozen things were clean and nice. But I’m so glad to get back to you. And the lovely bath room! We didn’t have any in the cottage. Why it saves half the work taking care of babies.”
“You bet it does, I couldn’t and wouldn’t live in such a muxy kitchen. If I couldn’t have things to suit I’d take French leave, though I guess I’d call it Irish leave. And people, women, think it a fine thing to go off and live that way. But the boss got very tired of it.”
Marilla laughed faintly. She was almost too tired to eat, but the chicken was so tasty, and the fresh home-made bread delightful. And the cheery voice put heart in the girl. Then the dessert was delicious.
“I promised to take Aunt Hetty a cup of milk. I’ll see first if Mrs. Borden wants me. But I’ll dry the dishes for you.”
“No, dear, I did the most of them while you were up stairs.”
The babies had been put to bed. They did have an unlimited capacity for sleep, now that they were well. Jack was perched on his father’s knee detailing some wonderful adventures. No, they did not need her.
“I’m going in next door awhile,” said Bridget on her return. “Mrs. Dawson’s girl left in a huff, and she asked me if I knew anyone. And there was my friend, Maggie Brady, just out of a place and a nice tidy girl; a good cook, too. So they both suited. Maggie’s mother and mine lived in the same town. It’s nice to have a friend at hand. And when ye’s through with the old lady I’d run to bed. You look tired as a wagon wheel that’s run round and round.”
Marilla laughed and took a bottle of milk with her. Aunt Hetty drank a good cupful, hot, and the remainder was set out on the window sill. Then she settled herself in bed with two pillows under her head; she could hear better she thought.
“Now, you open that book at the mark and read to me. ’Twon’t be very interesting, for you can’t know what’s gone before. And no doubt I’ll fall asleep – I always snore a little at first, and when you hear that you may light the burner in the other room and turn it very low and put the window down from the top and skip off to yourself.”
She was very tired but she read quite awhile before the gentle snoring began, and she was glad enough to go to bed.
They had been home just a week when school opened. It was a comfort to get rid of Jack. They began to settle into quite regular living.
“I’ve just had a fright,” said Mrs. Borden, coming up to her sister’s room. “A man has been here inquiring about school children and I did stretch the truth a little. You see, now children have to go to school until they are fourteen. I simply can’t let Marilla go. I didn’t adopt her nor consider her in any sense my own. A child like that isn’t worth more than her board and clothes. What good would she be to us if we had to get her off at nine in the morning, and then have only an hour in the afternoon. The twins must be taken out, and there’s so much running up and down. She’s a nice honest, truthful child and a born nurse girl. But if I had to send her to school, I’d trot her off to the Home.”
“There is so much to do this winter. When you come to that, she knows enough for ordinary, and later on she could go to evening school. There’s so much shopping and planning, and we must be out a good deal. The twins mightn’t take to a new girl. Let us keep her if we possibly can.”
Miss Borden’s lover was to return before Christmas and wanted every thing ready for a speedy marriage. It would be in church with a very small reception afterward. And that was hardly three months’ distance.
Marilla was coming home with the babies one afternoon when two lady callers and a girl were saying adieu and coming down the steps. Yes, that was Ada Brant who had been at Bayside in the summer and at first had been quite friendly with her. Now she looked as if she had never known her.
Maybe that was the way all the girls would feel to one who had been bound-out from an institution. There they had all been on an equality. And somehow the Bordens had not really put her down. Then that lovely Miss Armitage. Why, there had been a place for her at the table, and Jane had waited on her as if she had been a guest!
Perhaps it would be different now. Then came a very bitter knowledge to Marilla Bond. Five years more of this, and wouldn’t people remember she had been Mrs. Borden’s nursemaid? Why, even now she would be glad to be Miss Armitage’s maid. What made the difference?
She was to hear more of it that evening. After the babies came in from their outing they were washed, undressed, and a nice warm wrapper put over their nightgown, and then fed. Afterward laid in their crib. They didn’t go to sleep at once but kicked and laughed and chatted in a regular frolic. Phlegmatic babies can be easily trained. Then Marilla came down and waited on the table as Bridget sent various things up on the lift. She was a really charming little waitress.
“Such an odd thing occurred today,” began Mrs. Borden. “John do you know a firm, Davis & Calthorpe, who manufacture something – ”
“Yes, Calthorpe is selling out, I drew up some papers for him. He’s been up in the Adirondacks all summer and is going to Bermuda; but he will never come back alive.”
“How queer it all is! We met Mrs. Brant a few times at Bayside. They have come to Newton to look into the business and are staying with Mrs. Wheeler. They came to call and Mrs. Brant has a pretty, stylish young daughter. Of course they’ll have to move here. She is quite taken with Newton. I told them about that Jamreth house down the street and they decided to look at it. Of course I didn’t get much acquainted with her, but she seems a very nice body. And that’s a promising business, but Calthorpe had to give it up and I’m sorry for the poor fellow; glad, too, that he met with this chance of disposing of his share. Brant appears to be a nice, brisk fellow and it is lucky for Davis as well.”
The Jamreth house had stood empty all summer. Marilla passed it on her way to the park, for Arch street led direct. Suppose Ada was there sitting on the stoop or at the window and giving her that indifferent stare when they had been quite acquaintances!
For the first time fairy land and her dancing with the Prince failed to comfort. The whole world seemed changed, and how would Miss Armitage be, now that she was well?
But she was very, very busy; Jack went to school a week and was delighted with the boys.
“Sam Gordon has a little brother just big enough to begin school. I wish one of the twins was a boy. What’s the use of so many girls?”
His father laughed a little at that. The second week the charm began to fail. His head ached and he wanted to stay at home and have Marilla read to him.
“Boys don’t have headaches,” said his mother. But he was cross and his face flushed up so that in the afternoon his teacher sent him home. “And I don’t want this scratchy flannel on! I like the other better; can’t I pull it off?”
“The others are worn out, and it is coming cooler weather. Oh, you’ll get used to it,” said his mother, teasingly.
Then he kicked the babies’ playthings about and pinched Marilla’s arm and wouldn’t eat any dinner, and said his pudding was bitter. His father sent him to bed, but he tossed and tumbled and cried out for a drink ever so many times, and in the morning was red with a fever and some sort of eruption. So they sent for Dr. Baker, who pronounced it a fine case of measles.
“I don’t see where he caught it, unless it is in the school, and I suppose the twins will have it,” said Mrs. Borden in despair.
There were three pretty bad days and Jack tried the patience of the whole household sorely. Then the babies showed symptoms and seemed vexed that such a thing should happen to them, and now school was not to be thought of in some time.
“Run out and take a little airing, Marilla,” said Mrs. Borden, late one afternoon. “You haven’t been out of the house for days.”
She was very glad to go. Jack was still a recluse though he seemed well.
Which way should she go? Her heart cried softly for Loraine place and almost unconsciously her feet turned thitherward. Miss Armitage sat by the window but she sprang up and opened the hall door with, “My dear, dear child!”
Marilla had her face in a transport of happy crying, from an overweighted heart.
“Oh, my dear!” leading her in.
“Oh, Miss Armitage, we have the measles round at our house. Perhaps I oughtn’t come in.”
“Oh, I had the measles long ago, and I’ve seen three cases this afternoon. I’ve only been home four days and had the most splendid time. But I want to hear about you – have you been well, and was it nice at the seaside? Why it seems like a year since we parted.”
“Yes, I was well and the babies walk and talk and are real cunning and they do grow prettier. They’re getting some real nice hair but I can’t make it curl. I didn’t like the house so well and there was no bath only a cold water faucet and a gas stove, and I missed Bridget so much. We staid out of doors most of the time. I didn’t go in bathing – I was a little afraid, I think, and I would have had to go with some of the servants. There were a good many of them – we took our meals outside. I was glad to get home, and oh, so glad to see you!”
She caught the hand and kissed it rapturously. Miss Armitage held up the face with her hand under the chin.
“No, you haven’t gained any.”
“I think I did at first, but Jack was so troublesome, and the old lady, Aunt Hetty, wants one to read her to sleep and sometimes it takes so long.”
“You surely are not helping with her?”
“Oh, only reading and answering her bell. She’s somehow so nice when you wait on her. I think, like the rest of us, she’s so glad to be back. One day she gave me a dollar and said I must spend it for candy, but I haven’t yet. Do you think I ought to have told Mrs. Borden?”
“Why, not necessarily.”
“I’m not so very fond of candy. There’s a beautiful book of fairy stories in a store down town that I’d like. Only Jack takes every thing, and he keeps asking if I haven’t a penny when we go out. His mother doesn’t give him pennies to spend, and a very good thing, too.”
“What kind of books do you read to the old lady?”
“Well, you see it’s this way, she reads on pages and pages and puts in a mark, then I go on where she left off and so I don’t get the real sense of the story. They seem to have a good deal of trouble. I’d rather read about little girls who went to their grandmother’s and had nice times, and beautiful verses full of music such as you used to read.”
Miss Armitage laughed pleasantly. “We’ll have some nice reading again. And you ought to go to school.”
“But you see I can’t. I look over Jack’s books and I write on pieces of paper. I don’t know how to spell all the words. Oh, I wrote a letter to Dr. Richards. He asked me to, and he sent such a nice answer. I did want to write again, but I hadn’t any paper nor postage stamp, and I didn’t like to ask the second time. Oh, I might buy some with my dollar, mightn’t I?”
“I’ll do you up a little package. He wants to see you, so I’ll ask him to come here and let you know. And sometimes when you are out with the babies you must stop here and let me see them, and I’ll call and see you all.”
“Oh, how nice that will be. I’m so glad you love me. For I never shall be like the girls who have pretty homes and parents to love them. But you’ll be the fairy godmother always, won’t you?”
“Yes, dear,” in a soft tone.
“And now I must go. It’s so sweet to know that some one really loves you even if you are a bound-out girl. And now I’m beginning to count the years.”
Miss Armitage kissed her and watched her tripping down the steps. She was worthy of a better fate. Would she love the hand that set her in pleasanter places and not come to think wholly of self? For she, woman past thirty, as she was, longed for a little daughter’s love, a daughter to grow up along side of her, to share her very life.
The babies went out walking up and down the block one day and took no harm. Violet was wild to run away, as Jack had been, and so was quite a care. Then the men came to fumigate the house and they all went to a friend’s and took lunch.
“Dear me, what a nice little maid you have,” said the friend. “She seems to know just what to do, and she’s so pleasant tempered. Where did you find her?”
“She came from Bethany Home and she’s bound to me until she’s eighteen. She’ll be of good service.”
The Autumn was glorious with a good deal of sunshine; Jack went back to school and was getting to be a regular boy, full of pranks; they were sometimes rather rough. He did stand in awe of his father, but he occasionally said things to Marilla that were not a bit nice, then he would coax her not to tell of them.
One afternoon Miss Armitage came. Bridget said she was sorry the ladies were out but the visitor said she wanted to see Marilla and the babies and went up stairs to the nursery. Playthings were all about; Marilla had been building houses for the twins to knock down. They glanced at Miss Armitage with wondering eyes, but they said “down, down” when Marilla took to a chair. Then they tumbled over her and buried their hands in her curly hair, even if it pulled. They showed they owned her, and it really was not an easy lot for the little girl. She did look pale and tired but she was so glad to see her friend.
Then the lady began to plan if there was any way to get her free. She went to see Mrs. Johnson.
“Why the child seems very well off,” was the rather tart reply. “She is well fed and clothed and has nothing to do but amuse two little ones. Many a girl would jump at the place. It wouldn’t do for us to be changing them about, you see. We do sometimes take away a child who is ill treated. I’ve visited this Mrs. Borden several times and found things very satisfactory.”
“But she could be educated – ”
“My dear lady, there are hundreds of these poor children who need a good home and to be fitted for their station in life which cannot be a very high one. Their heads must not be filled with dreams of wonderful fortunes. Real work is and must be the lot of those who are homeless and dependent. Now, if you wanted to adopt some child I have two lovely little girls here, one of them born to luxury it would seem, but misfortune and death made a waif of her. I do hope some well-to-do people will take a fancy to her.”
No, she didn’t want any stranger. She would wait and see. Why should she care so much for Marilla? The faint little voice haunted her – “Are you a fairy godmother?”
The Bordens were really disappointed when they found they had missed Miss Armitage. Then a dressmaker was to come, and friends were dropping in. Unless they shut the nursery door the little girls were in everything, and then they fairly howled for mama.
“Oh, Marilla, can’t you keep those children entertained? It sounds as if they were getting murdered. Put on their things and take them out.”
Then one night Pansy had the croup and there was a great scare.
“You’ve let her get cold some way, Marilla; you mustn’t let the wagon stand while you keep looking at books and pictures in store windows. You better go straight over to the park, and don’t talk to other girls. You’re old enough now to have a little judgment.”
Marilla made the babies ready. They were very fond of walking up and down stairs. Now she lifted them in the carriage, tucked them in with the pretty robe and they did look picturesque in their fluffy white hoods and fur cloaks. They uttered shrieks of delight as they went along. The Brant’s were moving in the Jamreth house; she would remember hereafter to turn off at State street and not pass it. Somehow she felt very tired. At times there was such a fluttering somewhere inside of her that for a moment things went round and she had to gasp for breath. She would like to tell Dr. Richards about it. She had seen him twice, both times in the street and it had kept her happy for days.
CHAPTER X
ON THE BORDER OF TRAGEDY
For two days Jack had been out of school with a sore throat. Today it was better. The ladies wanted to go out to match some trimming and view some elegant new party frocks that might do for a wedding gown.
“Now don’t tear the house down while we are gone. And if you are good Jack, I’ll bring you home that new top you wanted. Remember the noise disturbs Aunt Hetty.”
But the children enjoyed the noise. Aunt Hetty’s bell rang.
“Oh, Marilla, can’t you keep those children in a little better order,” said the fretful voice. “And get me a drink of cold tea, I feel so queer.”
“I’m so sorry,” answered the child, “I’ll try my best. If only Jack wasn’t home.”
Jack was throwing the ball at the babies who made vague efforts to catch it.
“I’m so afraid you’ll hurt them.”
“Oh, you old fraid cat! You can’t let a fellow have any fun! I’ll give it to you.”
It was not a heavy ball but he sent it with all his angry might. It struck against her heart and she went down in a little heap.
“I fixed you that time! Come, you can’t play possum over me, get up!”
He touched her with his foot. Pansy ran and fell over her.
“Get up, you little clumsy skunk! You’ll half kill her!”
“Poor Illa. Det up, Illa. Did bad Jack hurt ’ou?”
Jack turned her partly over. Her face was ghastly, with the eyes rolled up.
Aunt Hetty’s bell rang. Jack ran down stairs.
“O, come up Bridget, Marilla’s killed!”
“Ah, now you want to frighten a body out of her wits! You ought to be skinned alive.”
“Oh, come quick!” Jack began to cry.
Bridget walked up stairs very deliberately, “Oh, Holy Mother of God! Get up, children. Marilla, dear – Oh, what have you done to her?”
She took the limp figure in her arms.
“Oh, me darlint! Wurra! wurra! And that bell! As if no one wanted anything but that old body with one foot in the grave. Jack run in next door and ask Mrs. Seymour to come at once; quick, or I’ll bat you with a stick.”
Then she went up stairs. The poor old body was lying in the reclining chair, her face distraught with fright.
“Send for the doctor at once, something has happened to me, I can’t stir. My legs are heavy as lead. Where’s Marilla? I’ve rung and rung!”
“Marilla’s fainted dead away. Yes, I’ll get the doctor,” and down Bridget flew to open the front door.
“Oh for the love of heaven, will you come and talk to that thing in the wall an’ get the doctor! Why, I’m most crazy.”
“Yes, what doctor?” Mrs. Seymour went to the telephone.
“Doctor Baker, and then to Miss Armitage in Loraine place.”
“Dr. Baker would come at once.”
They found the lady’s number. She was just going out but would stop there first.
Then she took Mrs. Seymour through to the nursery. The children were patting and petting Marilla.
“Get away, children, you’ve had her smothered.”
“Does she faint often? She seems so well and merry.”
“She did that time last summer. She was out with the babies and fell off of a stoop, I believe, an’ she kept looking like a ghost for ever so long. That Miss Armitage took her to her house an’ took care of her. She’s a good woman, that she is. An’ it’s just my belief that Marilla isn’t strong enough for the rough an’ tumble of life. Some ain’t you know, an’ she’s tugged these fat babies about often; there isn’t but one nurse kept.”
“Oh, they were too heavy for her to lift.”
“Mrs. Borden didn’t want her to, much. I’ll say that for her. She was afraid the babies backs might get out of shape some way by a bad fall. She’s a fair dealin’ woman or I wouldn’t have staid with her all these years. But Marilla isn’t strong enough for the work, and the old Aunt wants a good deal of waiting on. It’s run up an’ down until you’d think her legs would just fall out.”
Mrs. Seymour had been trying various restoratives. Now Marilla gave a long shuddering sigh, opened her eyes but closed them again.
“What beautiful long lashes she has! And such silky hair – ”
“Oh, the saints be praised! I began to think she was dead! Poor darlint! ’Rilla dear – its Bridget who’d do anything in the world for you.”
Dr. Baker arrived. He entered the room, looked at Marilla, felt of her pulse, and listened to the faint heart beats. “Give her a little brandy,” he said. “Where’s Mrs. Borden? I thought the old lady – ”
“Oh, she is!” interrupted Bridget, “she can’t stir her legs one bit. She’s rale poorly, now I tell you, an’ this child’s been looking after her as well as the babies.”
“That’s twice too much.” He ran lightly up the stairs to meet with a torrent of up-braidings.
“I thought I’d have to die here all alone! Where’s Marilla? I’ve rung and rung.”
“The girl has been in a dead faint. She’s worn out. And you must have a regular nurse.”
“Oh, dear!” Aunt Hetty began to cry, “couldn’t I have her? ’Twouldn’t be as bad as them two young ones. And I’d pay her well, too. She’s so nice and good tempered with her face full of smiles and sunshine. Oh, if she’s going to be ill what shall we all do?”
The brandy revived Marilla a little. She tried to speak but her lips felt stiff. They took her up carefully and laid her on the old lounge. The babies started to climb up over her at once, and howled fearfully when Bridget pulled them down with an ungentle shake and sat them on the floor. Then she went to answer the door bell and ushered in Miss Armitage.
Dr. Baker came down at the same moment. “Can’t you shut those children up in some dungeon? They’ve voices like a foghorn. Ah, Miss Armitage. How is this patient?”
“Oh, I’m – better,” raising up suddenly then falling back in a half faint.
“Don’t stir, keep as still as you can. You’ve no strength to throw away on make believes. See here, babies,” and he disgorged a paper of peppermints that at once soothed broken hearts.
“When will Mrs. Borden return?”
“Well, she’ll be home to dinner,” and Bridget grinned. “Things were all well enough when she went out. You see there’s some weddin’ fixings goin’ on, and sure Miss Borden deserves a good husband when she’s waited five years. How’s the old lady?”
“It’s pretty bad with her, though there’s no immediate signs of her dying. But it’s paralysis. Her limbs are cold and useless and I think it is creeping up her left side. She’ll be another baby added to the family, unless she will go to a hospital which would be far better for her. She must have a steady nurse. I’ve been rather afraid of this.”
“I must go and see to my dinner. Miss Armitage won’t you stay until the ladies come home?”
Miss Armitage signified her willingness and laid aside her hat.
The babies were fairly gorging themselves.
“I’ll be in again presently. I’ll leave this for the child, to be given every half hour and she is to lie perfectly still.”
Miss Armitage smiled down in the pallid face. It had grown quite thin again, but it seemed to hold an ethical sweetness. Marilla put out one slim hand.
“It seems too bad the old lady should be taken ill at this juncture,” said Mrs. Seymour. “And Manila’s been such a faithful child. She’s been growing tall this summer and autumn and I suppose has run ahead of her strength. Then with the two children to look after – well a little nurse girl has rather hard lines – they seldom have more than one, or if they do the others are older. My two boys are in boarding school. I’ve wished one was a girl, they are so much more company for the mother. But I’d wanted her to be pretty,” she cast a sidelong glance at the twins. “It’s a pity Jack should have taken all the beauty.”
The twins felt so comfortable over the candy that they went to playing with their blocks. Miss Armitage gave her patient the second dose of her medicine and she closed her eyes.
There was almost a shriek as Bridget opened the hall door with – “the merciful saints preserve us! Has Jack been run over by one of them fury things?”
Jack was crying and the blood was streaming from his nose all over his blouse.
“He’s been fighting, the bad boy, with a nasty, dirty tramp!”
Bridget in her inmost heart hoped he had the worst of it. “Whist!” she exclaimed, “there’s two sick folks in the house, the doctor’s been an’ he’s coming again!”
“Sick! Oh, what has happened?”
“Well, the old lady’s had a stroke, an’ Marilla had a bad faint again. I thought sure she was dead.”
Mrs. Borden dropped into the hall chair and began to cry hysterically.
“Jack, go straight up to the bath room,” said his aunt.
“And the neighbors came in, Mrs. Seymour to talk through that funnel, and then Miss Armitage and the doctor,” went on Bridget.
“It’s a pity one can’t stir out of the house without something happening,” sobbed the mistress. “And we’re both so tired.”
“There dear, come up stairs.” Florence took Mrs. Borden by the arm, and they ascended together. “Now I’ll go and look after Jack.”
She put a big apron over her dress. Jack sat on the bath room floor crying.
“Get up and take off those dirty things. Come, your father will soon be home and I don’t know what he’ll do to you,” said his aunt.
“He may strap me if he likes, but I ain’t going to be called a snotnosed scabby sneak of a devil – ”
“Hush! hush! I won’t listen to such a talk – ”
“ – And he slapped me in the face, and I kicked his shins good, and then we fit and I give him a punch in the belly and a good bunk in the eye – ”
“Stop Jack, I won’t hear another word. Let me get you washed up. There comes your father.”
Jack’s nose had stopped bleeding and he was washed and put in some clean clothes. Mrs. Borden laid aside her wrap and hat and went through to the nursery. The peppermint must have been a sedative to nerves and stomach for the twins looked up with an angelic smile and went on house building. Mrs. Seymour made the explanations.
“What could Marilla have been doing? She was well enough when we went out.”
Miss Armitage gave the hand she held a gentle squeeze and she saw the eyelids quiver.
“I’m sure I am very much obliged to you both. I was sorry to miss you that day you called, Miss Armitage. Oh dear, how you must have been frightened! And poor Aunt Hetty! Is it really true – ”
“The doctor couldn’t tell the absolute danger so soon – ”
“Oh, I think it has been coming on some time. She’s dragged her feet and she had a quick, almost spiteful way of walking, if one may call it that. She protested against people slouching round without animation enough to lift their feet. And some days she wouldn’t come down to any meal. Well, she’s a pretty old lady; we’ve always let her have her way.”
