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

/> The babies were safely deposited in their crib, each with a thumb in her mouth, a rather recent habit. Then they went out on the porch again. Jack was there with his chum, Stevie. The ladies joined the procession up and down the board walk. Stevie was recounting some wonderful experience, so Marilla dropped into a chair and her mind went back to last Sunday night. How long ago it seemed!

Stevie was summoned home by his nurse. Quite a party went to the kind of sacred concert. Jack crawled up beside Marilla, for he was getting sleepy. When she proposed he should go to bed he turned obstinate and held on tight to the arm of the chair.

"I won't go to bed. I'm going to stay here until mama comes."

"Oh, you must. The clocks have struck eight."

"But I'm not going to." He caught the arm of the chair. "You try now and I'll kick you with my hind leg."

She knew well enough that he would kick. Somehow she did not feel equal to the struggle.

"Tell me a story," was his next demand. "About somebody being put in the pit. Sunday school teacher told it. Why, I'd climb out."

So she told him the story and then another, rocking slowly, and as the demand ceased she knew he was asleep. But she did not dare try to get him to bed. So she went to her own thoughts, the last week passed with the fairy godmother and Dr. Richards.

It was ten when the family returned.

"Oh, Marilla, how _could_ you let him go to sleep! He's so cross when you wake him up."

"I couldn't get him to go----"

"Jack!" His father picked him up and carried him to the sleeping room.

"Now you run to bed," said the mistress, still sharply.

It was very well, Marilla thought, that Jack had a companion who was not fond of "kids." Stevie lived quite a distance below and had brought no end of playthings, had an auto wagon that two could sit in, though only one could be chauffeur. So Marilla had the babies out on the side lawn all the morning in the shade, and after their nap took them out in the carriage. They were quite fond of walking, too. They really were rather amiable again.

"Miss Florence, could I have some paper and a pencil?" she asked during their noontide nap. "I promised to write to Dr. Richards and tell him if I kept well."

"Why not to Miss Armitage?" was the inquiry.

"She was going to Canada, and--I'm quite well again, and the babies are so much better. He will be glad to hear, for he felt very sorry about them, and he said I must write."

"I suppose Miss Armitage's house is very grand, much finer than ours?"

"It's beautiful and she has such a lovely organ. Well, it's different and there are two big parlors and some curious things that I never saw before and chairs in beautiful light blue, all flowered, and some tall vases and marble statues. And there's Jane and Norah--and the wash goes out. Yes, I suppose she's rich."

"And you'd like to live there?"

"Perhaps she wouldn't want me," the child said simply.

Evidently there had been no talk about it.

Miss Borden gave her pencil and paper.

Marilla went to the kitchen nursery, sat down on a stool and put her paper on the bottom of the wooden chair. She began--"Dear Dr. Richards." Oh, there was so much to say! She was well and the babies were improved and could talk a good deal and looked better for not being so fat. She really liked home better and Bridget's kitchen was so clean, and there was always a nice white cloth on the table. It seemed a funny way to live but many of the people did not have meals in their own houses, but went over to the eating place. "I can't spell the other word," she admitted naively. There were so many pretty girls in lovely frocks who walked up and down and didn't have to take care of babies. "I don't believe I am as fond of babies as I used to be. I get tired of having them every day," she explained frankly. "And soon I shall begin to count on the five years."

She filled up the whole sheet, folded, slipped it in the envelope and fastened it. Oh, she must ask for a stamp. She could run down to the postoffice.

Miss Borden was curious to know what was in the letter, whether Marilla had found any fault with her surroundings, but the eager, honest face disarmed curiosity that could not be easily gratified. So the letter went its way.

There were many things to entertain a child whose former life had been narrow. Some of the girls spoke to her. "Were the babies her sisters?"

"Oh, no. She was--well their nurse."

"How odd they looked! Is that little Jack their brother?"

"Yes." Oh how ardently she wished they were pretty.

"He looks more like you than like them. You've both got such pretty curly hair, though his is darker. I think curly hair's just lovely. I wish mine curled, and you've such a pretty dimple in your chin."

Marilla blushed at the praise.

"What are the babies called?"

Marilla repeated their names.

"That's funny--they're so much alike."

"Well--they're twins," said another.

Then the babies thought it was time they joined in the conversation, and a funny mess they made of it. Pansy said--

"Ont to dit down."

"No, you can't," answered Marilla. "Their mother said I must never take them out."

They happened to be strapped in very securely. But Pansy made a great fuss and gesticulated furiously with her little fists.

"I had better go on," said Marilla.

"It's awfully funny. Does she often get in such a tantrum?"

"Not very often," returned Marilla half ashamed and almost afraid the baby would break the strap.

After a few days she began to get quite acquainted with some of the girls. They came from various places and were quite ready to talk about themselves. There was to be a lawn party next week at the Sheldon's, just for the girls, and they were going to dance.

"Oh, did you ever go to a ball?" asked Marilla.

"Why, girls don't go to balls! They are for the big folks. My grown up sister does and they're just splendid."

She had half a mind to tell them about the beautiful dream and how she had danced with the Prince. But Pansy was going on at such a rate that she pushed the carriage along and by the time they reached home she had forgotten her trouble.

And there was a letter from Dr. Richards.

She wanted to kiss it, she was so glad, but Mrs. Borden stood there, so she simply said--"Thank you," and opened it.

It was quite to a child's capacity. Marilla smiled in some places, looked sad in others. The little boy who had been so dreadfully injured by an automobile had died, but he would have been a terrible cripple if he had lived. There had been two very hot weeks and the poor babies had suffered. He was very glad to hear that the twins were doing so nicely, and had all their teeth safe and sound. And was she growing stronger, and did she have a chance to take the baths he advised? Miss Armitage was having a fine time. And a friend was to take them in his yacht around the islands in the Gulf of St. Lawrence and come down to Nova Scotia, so she wouldn't be home as soon as they expected. And he was so busy he couldn't have any vacation at all; but then he had taken years before and must be satisfied.

There were bits of fun and queer sayings interspersed that made a sort of jolliness in her face.

"Don't you want to read it?" she asked, rather timidly.

Mrs. Borden just did. She and Florence had wondered whether Marilla had made any invidious comparisons about the change to actual service instead of being treated as a guest in a fine house.

"If--you'd like me to," with the proper hesitation.

"Oh, yes. And I used to tell him about the babies, that they were so good and hardly ever cried, and how I told them stories and they laughed just as if they understood--didn't they?"

"You _made_ them understand. You're an odd little girl, Marilla, and I don't know what we would do without you, but then you do really belong to us. I do suppose the baths would be a good thing if you were not afraid. Now, we can't coax Jack to go in the water, though he delights to run along the edge barefooted. That's fun for the children. But you see if we all went some one must look after the children. Then there's the time for their nap and there'd be no one to go with you. There seems so many things to do in the afternoon now that we have joined the Clubs. And there's teas and things----"

"Yes," Marilla returned, meekly.

"Why wouldn't you go in the water?" she asked Jack a few days afterward.

"'Cause there's sharks. Stevie said so. An' they eat up people."

"Why don't they eat up--well, they haven't eaten up any one yet. We should have heard of it."

"They only eat up children. The big folks kick 'em out of the way. But you've got to be real strong an' have a big foot. You just give it to 'em by the side of the jaw and they flop down in the water. That big Jimmy Lane has seen them lots of times."

There was a great sand heap where the smaller children went to play and tumble about and build forts and ovens and sometimes sand each other. Marilla took the babies out in the carriage after they had their dinner and were dressed afresh. Sometimes she met the girls sauntering about, sometimes with the nurse maids. The two ladies went to a Whist Club, and one afternoon played Bridge, and between times they met on each others' porches.

The afternoon of the children's lawn party the street was fairly thronged. There were grown people within the enclosure by special invitation. And how pretty the young people were in their beautiful summer attire with laces and ribbons and bead chains and white ties with a great bow almost as big as the foot.

There were four pieces of music. Oh, the dancing was just bewitching? Marilla drew long breaths and wished she was among them; every pulse in her body kept time. The trees waved and nodded, some birds sang and there were sounds of happy laughter.

"Get away from here with this big caboose of yourn!" said a rough voice, "you take up too much room," and he wheeled the carriage around so suddenly the babies almost toppled over. "Other people want a chance. Get along, I say!"

She had no choice but to go on.

"I'm glad he sent off that nurse girl," exclaimed a woman with two children clinging to her skirts. "Those great wagons are such a nuisance!"

Marilla crossed the street and went slowly up and down. When the throng moved about a little she could see the white fairy figures floating over the greensward, and hear the music that