A Modern Cinderella, Amanda Minnie Douglas [free ereaders .txt] 📗

to you at Bordens?"

"Oh, yes. I _love_ Bridget, though I was afraid of her at first. But the grown people have each other and since I don't really belong to them--oh, I can't explain it," and the knot came back to her brow. "You see when you're bound-out and going away for a while they can't feel the same to you. They're never real cross and they don't whip you as they did at the Home, and you have nicer things to eat. Sometimes when you were awful hungry you didn't seem to get enough. You wanted one more piece of bread, but you couldn't have it. Oh, I like it so much better at Mrs. Borden's Only Jack--Are boys always bad?"

"I guess they are for the most part," laughing.

"But he will go to school again. And his father says he will outgrow it. His father truly does want him to be good, and he said I must tell when he pinched me or kicked me, and he would punish him. But I don't like to, always, for he denies it, and his mother isn't pleased when I do. You can feel when people do not like you to tell things. At the Home when you told tales they whipped the child that was bad, and then they whipped you for telling tales. It didn't seem as if that was quite fair, so I tried never to tell on anyone."

"Generally speaking, it is a bad habit," he commented, gravely.

Then they had reached their destination. A poor old paralyzed man sat in a wheeling chair on the porch. Medical skill could not do much for him, but friendship and interest made pleasant times to remember when the hours were long and weary. Dr. Richards had brought some illustrated magazines, and they talked over the happenings of the week.

A sweet-faced, rather elderly lady brought Marilla a rocking chair, and asked her if she was the doctor's patient. Then she offered her a piece of cake and a lovely pear, and afterward took her down to see the flower garden that was fairly rioting in beauty, and a flock of snowy white chickens, as well as some fine pigeons that circled around like swallows. She was the wife, and there was a daughter who had gone to church. She talked of Dr. Richards, how good and comforting he was to "father." Marilla thought he must be good to everybody.

"I've had a lovely time with you," the child said. Then she shook hands with "father," who said--

"I s'pose you're the doctor's little girl?" His mind was not always clear on some points. "Come again, won't you?"

She smiled and nodded. "The doctor's little girl," how sweet it sounded! But of course that could not be.

They had a delightful ride home though it was growing warmer. How beautiful her eyes were today--a sort of gray-violet, and the bronze lashes almost curled. And as he listened to her soft, flowing voice, he kept thinking--if he was to marry some one and have a little girl full of quaint ideas as this one was! But it would take a long, long while, and he sighed.

Miss Armitage was sitting by the parlor window when they returned, and she came to the door to meet them.

"I ran away with your little invalid," the doctor exclaimed. "Haven't I brought her back improved?"

Her cheeks were positively rosy and were rounded out by the exquisite shading. She clasped her small arms around Miss Armitage.

"And I've had the most splendid time! A real Sunday. We've been out in the beautiful country where birds were singing hymns and I'm just full of happiness."

They had kept their pact, these two people; they could not have worked together otherwise, and each one was following the same path, for the good of the poor of this world.

"I am very glad----"

"Then you are not going to scold me?" with a questioning smile. "I promised her a drive you know, and today was rather a holiday to me."

"Why, she doesn't scold," cried Marilla in a sort of joyful contradiction.

"Won't you come in and have some dinner with us?"

"Pete would grumble if he stood here an hour. Now, if you would change it to supper--and a cup of tea----"

"Let be a cup of tea, then. I want to talk over some plans."

"Very well. Expect me on the mark. Six, isn't it?"

"Yes," with a smile.

"Oh, I'm just delighted," and Marilla squeezed his hand.

"So you had a lovely time. Where did you go?"

"Oh--through the park and then out on such a beautiful road. Things seem nicer on Sunday, because there isn't so much noise. And there was an old man who has to get about in a chair with little wheels, and can't walk any more. And the lady gave me some cake and such a luscious pear, and asked me to come again. I just wished that there was some little girl from the Home living there."

Marilla had her face and hands washed, and a fresh white frock put on. She was so bright and chatty and really charming. But after dinner she lay in the Morris chair and Miss Armitage read her to sleep. It seemed as if she had improved so much in the twenty-four hours.

They had such a genial and charming supper, and Miss Armitage played on the organ afterward and then talked about the girls who were going to the Rest House next week. Five of them were very much worn out. They would need to stay a full fortnight.

"And I think one of them needs some medical attention. Come to the Settlement and see her before she starts. And you know I am booked for that Canadian journey with the Winslows. I am almost sorry I promised. Do you think it would be safe to let the child go to the Bordens on Saturday?"

"You won't let her go back! She is worth something better than baby tending."

"You shouldn't have cured her up so soon! I don't exactly see my way clear or I should keep her for good and all. I like her very much. You may laugh at me about my swans being ordinary geese--but we must admit the Bordens have the right to her at present. And I do not want to make bad friends with them, seeing that in law he may exact the pound of flesh. They may tire of her or she may not be able to stand the babies and Jack. I could leave her here with Jane or send her to the Home. But she is very much resigned to the return. She has a curious bit of conscience about it. So it is best to let her try again."

"I can't bear the thought of it." He uttered it with vehemence.

"I don't like it much myself. But it seems the only way at present. Bridget will look out for her. We can't accuse them of any cruelty or neglect."

"And she fairly worships you--fairy godmother."

"I wish I were. I should change the lot of more than one Cinderella. Well--we will wait and see."

Marilla came in with a bunch of flowers.

"Jane said I might pick them for the doctor, and the ride was so nice. I shall put it in among the splendid things of my life--like the dream, and coming here--and when I get settled in bed and all is dark I can make a real fairy land out of it."

He took her flowers and kissed her, and said "Good-night" to them in a low tone. But he went home racking his brains to see if something could not be done toward keeping her.

Bridget came around one afternoon and was enthusiastic over her improvement.

"They're doing pretty well and I believe the twins are not to get any more teeth in a year or two. And the boss says they've thinned out astonishing, and they can talk a good bit. And that girl's going to the other place and they say you just must come down. But not a foot should you stir if you wasn't real well. An' its glad enough I am to have himself at breakfast at the morn and dinner at night. It's like living again, but I don't want to see any more twins."

Marilla laughed. "Yes, I feel all well only sometimes I have a little catch in my breath; and I'll be ready to go on Saturday."

"An' I'll just be praying to the saints to send you back safe and sound. I don't see why people should be kitin' off to strange places, when they've a good, comfortable house to stay in. But the saints be praised for the rest with that imp of a Jack being away! They do be grown up after awhile an' I s'pose you couldn't have men if there were no boy babies."

Then Mr. Borden called late one afternoon and brought a note from his wife. Ellen had to leave on Saturday or lose the nice place, and the babies were well now, walking all round and beginning to say cunning words. Pansy called "Illa, Illa," and then looked around for Marilla to come, and said--"Papa bing Illa." They wanted her so much. All their meals were taken over in the next cottage, and the laundress came twice a week for the washings. The children were out of doors most of the time, and they were on the ground floor, so there was no going up and down stairs. Marilla would have it very easy and they would take the best of care of her.

Mr. Borden was both kind and gentlemanly. He hoped there would be some way in which they could repay Miss Armitage for all her care. Would she accept a contribution for the Babies' Hospital, he had heard she was interested in, or any other charity?

It was very nice of him, Miss Armitage thought, and she chose the hospital. Marilla had been out walking with Jane and when she came in Mr. Borden was so cordial that it won the child's heart, and she was the more willing to go because she should lose her dear Miss Armitage for a month.

"And afterward, you must come and see me and we will have nice times together, and I may teach you a little music--you learn so easily. Oh, I count on seeing a good deal of you."

The parting was not as bitter as Miss Armitage had feared, partly because Mr. Borden was there and in such good spirits, and Marilla was thinking that the month would soon pass and that in any event she could not see her dear fairy godmother in that time.

The journey interested her very much. She had never taken so long a ride in the cars. Mr. Borden bought her a box of marshmallows and he had some illustrated papers. And there at the station was Miss Florence who gave her a cordial welcome, and the big surrey drove them and three other passengers to their destination. Mrs. Borden ran down the path to meet them.

"I've been on pins and needles lest something should happen," she began. "Why, Marilla, you don't look as if you had ever been ill! And we're so glad to get you back. Oh, you don't know what an awful time I had, and at first the babies wouldn't let Ellen touch them. Flo or I had to feed them. I'm clear worn