Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 11 (13 page)

 
          
           
She flew off presently to try to thank her good friends, and came back dragging
a light new trunk, in which she nearly buried her small self as she excitedly
explained its appearance, while rattling out the trays and displaying its many
conveniences.

 
          
           
"That dear woman says I'm to send my
presents
home in the old one by you, and take this to fill up in
Rome
.
Think of it! A lovely new French
trunk,
and
Rome
full of pictures, statues, St. Peter's, and the Colosseum. It takes my breath
away and makes my head spin."

 
          
           
"So I see. It's a capital box, but it won't hold even St. Peter's, dear;
so you'd better calm down and pack your treasures. I'll help," cried
Ethel, sweeping about in her gay gown, almost as wild as Jane, who was quite
upset by this sudden delicious change in her prospects.

 
          
           
How happily she laid away in the old trunk the few gifts she had ventured to
buy, and those given her,—the glossy silk, the dainty lace, the pretty crystals,
the store of gloves, the flask of cologne, the pictures and books, and last of
all the sketches which illustrated the journal kept so carefully for those at
home.

 
          
           
"Now, when my letter is written and the check with all that is left of my
salary put in, I am done. There's room for more, and I wish I'd got something
else, now I feel so rich. But it is foolish to buy gowns to pay duties on, when
I don't know what the girls need. I feel so rich
now,
I shall fly out and pick up some more little pretties for the dears. They have
so few, anything will be charming to them," said Jenny, proudly surveying
her box, and looking about for some foreign trifle with which to fill up the
corners.

 
          
           
"Then let me put these in, and so be rid of them. I shall go to see your
people and tell them all about you, and explain how you came to send so much
rubbish."

 
          
           
As she spoke Ethel slipped in several Swiss carvings, the best of the trinkets,
and a parcel of dainty Parisian ties and sashes which would gladden the hearts
of the poor, pretty girls, just beginning to need such aids to their modest
toilets. A big box of bonbons completed her contribution, and left but one
empty corner.

 
          
           
"I'll tuck in my old hat to keep all steady; the girls will like it when
they dress up, and I'm fond of it, because it recalls some of my happiest
days," said Jenny, as she took up the well-worn hat and began to dust it.
A shower of grain dropped into her hand, for the yellow wheat still kept its
place and recalled the chat at Schwalbach. Ethel glanced at her own hat with
its faded artificial flowers; and as her eye went from the small store of
treasures so carefully and happily gathered to the strew of almost useless
finery on her bed, she said soberly,—

 
          
           
"You were right, Jenny. My poppies are worthless, and my harvest a very
poor one. Your wheat fell in good ground, and you will glean a whole stack
before you go home. Well, I shall keep MY old hat to remind me of you: and when
I come again, I hope I shall have a wiser head to put into a new one."

 
          
           
 “WELL, what do you think of her?"

 
          
           
 "I think she's a perfect dear, and not a bit stuck up with all her
money."

 
          
           
 
"A real little lady, and ever so pretty."

 
          
           
 "She kissed me lots, and don't tell me to run away, so I love
her."

 
          
           
 The group of brothers and sisters standing round the fire laughed as
little May finished the chorus of praise with these crowning virtues.

 
          
           
 Tall Alf asked the question, and seemed satisfied with the general
approval of the new cousin just come from
England
to live with them. They had often heard of Kate, and rather prided them-selves
on the fact that she lived in a fine house, was very rich, and sent
them
charming presents. Now pity was added to the pride, for
Kate was an orphan, and all her money could not buy back the parents she had
lost. They had watched impatiently for her arrival, had welcomed her cordially,
and after a day spent in trying to make her feel at home they were comparing
notes in the twilight, while Kate was having a quiet talk with mamma.

 
          
           
 "I hope she will choose to live with us. You know she can go to any
of the uncles she likes best," said Alf.

 
          
           
 "We are nearer her age than any of the other cousins, and papa is
the oldest uncle, so I guess she will," added Milly, the fourteen-year-old
daughter of the house.

 
          
           
 "She said she liked
America
,"
said quiet Frank.

 
          
           
 "Wonder if she will give us a lot of her money?" put in
practical Fred, who was always in debt.

 
          
           
 "Stop that!" commanded Alf.
" Mind
now, if you ever ask her for a penny I'll shake you out of your jacket."

 
          
           
 "Hush!
she's
coming," cried Milly, and
a dead silence followed the lively chatter.

 
          
           
 A fresh-faced bright-eyed girl of fifteen carae quietly in, glanced at
the group on the rug, and paused as if doubtful whether she was wanted.

 
          
           
 "Come
on !
" said Fred, encouragingly.

 
          
           
 “Shall I be in the way?"

 
          
           
 “Oh!
dear
, no, we were only talking," answered
Milly, drawing her cousin nearer with an arm about her waist.

 
          
           
 "It sounded like something pleasant," said Kate, not exactly
knowing what to say.

 
          
           
 "We were talking about you," began little May, when a poke from
Frank made her stop to ask, "What's that for? We were talking about Kate,
and we all said we liked her, so it's no matter if I do tell."

 
          
           
 "You are very kind," and Kate looked so pleased that the
children forgave May's awkward frankness.

 
          
           
 "Yes, and we hoped you'd like us and stay with us," said Alf,
in the lofty and polite manner which he thought became the young lord of the
house.

 
          
           
 "I am going to try all the uncles in turn, and then decide; papa
wished it," answered Kate, with a sudden tremble of the lips, for her
father was the only parent she could remember, and had been unusually dear for
that reason.

 
          
           
 "Can you play
billiards ?
" asked Fred,
who had a horror of seeing girls cry.

 
          
           
 "Yes, and I'll teach you."

 
          
           
 "You had a pony-carriage at your house, didn't you?" added
Frank, eager to help on the good work,

 
          
           
 "At grandma's, — I had no other home, you know," answered Kate.

 
          
           
 "What shall you buy first with your money?" asked May, who
would ask improper questions.

 
          
           
 "I'd buy a grandma if I
could,"
and
Kate both smiled and sighed.

 
          
           
 
"How funny!
We’ve got one somewhere, but we
don't care much about her," continued May, with the inconvenient candor of
a child.

 
          
           
 "Have you? Where is she?" and Kate turned quickly, looking full
of interest.

 
          
           
 "Papa's mother is very old, and lives ever so far away in the
country, so of course we don't see much of her," explained Alf.

 
          
           
 "But papa writes sometimes, and mamma sends her things every
Christmas. We don't remember her much, because we never saw her but once, ever
so long ago; but we do care for her, and May mustn't say such rude
things," said Milly.

 
          
           
 "I shall go and see her. I can't get on without a grandmother,"
and Kate smiled so brightly that the lads thought her prettier than ever.
"Tell me more about her. Is she a dear old lady?"

 
          
           
 "Don't know. She is lame, and lives in the old house, and has a maid
named Dolly, and — that's all I can tell you about her," and Milly looked
a little vexed that she could say no more on the subject that seemed to
interest her cousin so much.

 
          
           
 Kate looked surprised, but said nothing, and stood looking at the fire as
if turning the matter over in her mind, and trying to answer the question she
was too polite to ask, — how could they live without a grandmother? Here the
tea-bell rang, and the flock ran laughing
downstairs ;
but, though she said no more, Kate remembered that conversation, and laid a
plan in her resolute little mind which she carried out when the time came.

 
          
           
 According to her father's wish she lived for a while in the family of
each of the four uncles before she decided with which she would make her home.
All were anxious to have her, one because of her
money,
another because her great-grandfather had been a lord, a third hoped to secure
her for his son, while the fourth and best family loved her for herself alone.
They were worthy people, as the world goes, — busy, ambitious, and prosperous;
and every one, old and young, was fond of bright, pretty, generous Kate. Each
family was anxious to keep her, a little jealous of the rest, and very eager to
know which she would choose.

 
          
           
 But Kate surprised them all by saying decidedly when the time came, —

 
          
           
 "I must see grandma before I choose. Perhaps I ought to have visited
her first, as she is the oldest. I think papa would wish me to do it. At any
rate, I want to pay my duty to her before I settle anywhere, so please let me
go."

 
          
           
 Some of the young cousins laughed at the idea, and her old-fashioned,
respectful way of putting it, which contrasted strongly with their
free-and-easy American speech. The uncles were surprised, but agreed to humor
her whim, and Uncle George, the eldest, said softly, —

 
          
           
 "I ought to have remembered that poor Anna was
mother's
only daughter, and the old lady would naturally love to see the girl. But, my
dear, it will be desperately dull.
Only two old women and a
quiet country town.
No fun, no company, you won't stay long."

 
          
           
 "I shall not mind the dullness if grandma likes to have me there. I
lived very quietly in
England
,
and was never tired of it. Nursey can take care of me, and I think the sight of
me will do the dear old lady good, because they tell me I am like mamma."

 
          
           
 Something in the earnest young face reminded Uncle George of the sister
he had almost forgotten, and recalled his own youth so pleasantly that he said,
with a caress of the curly head beside him,—

 
          
           
 "So it would, I'm sure of it, and I've a great mind to go with you
and ' pay my duty' to mother, as you prettily express it."

 
          
           
 "Oh, no, please don't, sir; I want to surprise hex; and have her all
to myself for a little while. Would you mind if I went quite alone with Nursey?
You can come later."

 
          
           
 "Not a bit; you shall do as you like, and make sunshine for the old
lady as you have for us. I haven't seen her for a year, but I know she is well
and comfortable, and Dolly guards her like a dragon. Give her my love, Kitty,
and tell her I send her something she will value a hundred times more than the
very best tea, the finest cap, or the handsomest tubby that ever purred."

 
          
           
 So, in spite of the lamentations of their cousins, Kate went gayly away
to find the grandma whom no one else seemed to value as she did.

 
          
           
 You see, grandpa had been a farmer, and lived contentedly on the old
place until he died; but his four sons wanted to be something better, so they
went away one after the other to make their way in the world. All worked hard,
got rich, lived splendidly, and forgot as far as possible the old life and the
dull old place they came from. They were good sons in their way, and had each
offered his mother a home with him if she cared to come. But grandma clung to
the old home, the simple ways, and quiet life, and, thanking them gratefully,
she had remained in the big farm-house, empty, lonely, and plain though it was,
compared to the fine homes of her sons.

 
          
           
 Little by little the busy men forgot the quiet, uncomplaining old mother,
who spent her years thinking of them, longing to see and know their children,
hoping they would one day remember how she loved them all, and how solitary her
life must be.

 
          
           
 Bow and then they wrote or paid her a hasty visit, and all sent gifts of
far less value to her than one loving look, one hour of dutiful, affectionate
companionship.

 
          
           
 "If you ever want me, send and I’ll come. Or, if you ever need a
home, remember the old place is here always open, and you are always
welcome," the good old lady said. But they never seemed to need her, and
so seldom came that the old place evidently had
no
charm for them.

 
          
           
 It was hard, but the sweet old woman bore it patiently, and lived her
lonely life quietly and usefully, with her faithful maid Dolly to serve and
love and support her.

 
          
           
 Kate's mother, her one daughter, had married young, gone to
England
,
and, dying early, had left the child to its father and his family. Among them
little Kate had grown up, knowing scarcely any thing of her American relations
until she was left an orphan and went back to her mother's people. She had been
the pet of her English grandmother, and, finding all the aunts busy,
fashionable
women,
had longed for the tender fostering
she had known, and now felt as if only grandmothers could give.

 
          
           
 With a flutter of hope and expectation, she approached the old house
after the long journey was over. Leaving the luggage at the inn, and
accompanied by faithful Nurse, Kate went up the village street, and, pausing at
the gate, looked at the home where her mother had been born.

 
          
           
 A large, old-fashioned farm-house, with a hospitable porch and tall trees
in front, an orchard behind, and a capital hill for blackberries in summer, and
coasting in winter, close by. All the upper windows were curtained, and made
the house look as if it was half-asleep. At one of the lower windows sac a
portly puss, blinking in the sun, and at the other appeared a cap, a regular
grandmotherly old cap, with a little black bow perked up behind. Something in
the lonely look of the house and the pensive droop of that cap made Katy hurry
up the walk and tap eagerly at the antique knocker. A brisk little old woman
peered out, as if startled at the sound, and Kate asked, smiling, "Does
Madam Coverley
live
here?"