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

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."

Jack came into the room rather meek but a handsome little fellow in spite of a lump on his forehead. He had run out of doors without waiting to hear the result of Marilla's fall.

"Well, Captain!" said his father, holding out his hand.

Mrs. Seymour went home after proffering her services if she should be needed through the night. The dinner bell rang and Miss Borden insisted the guest must go down to dinner and she would stay with the children.

"We're having our dinner a little late this evening on account of a guest; otherwise I would accept. I can stay half an hour longer. Then if you won't mind my coming around about nine to hear the doctor's verdict."

"Oh, you are very sympathetic. Thank you. I only hope Marilla won't have a bad time as she did last summer. Why she's never fainted since."

Jack behaved beautifully at the table. No one spoke of the fight. But he kept up a shivery thought of wondering if the ball he had thrown at Marilla had really hurt her. It wasn't a hard ball, at least not as hard as they had sometimes in the street.

No one appeared very hungry. Mrs. Borden went up to look after Aunt Hetty who seemed disinclined to talk and only wanted a cup of tea. Mr. Borden looked at Marilla who had fallen asleep. Then he went through to the other room and took Jack on his knee.

"Now let's hear about the fight," he said, but his voice didn't seem very stern.

Jack really wanted to cry. He felt sort of bruised and beaten though he had knocked down his adversary and would have stamped on him if his mother had not appeared at that moment and carried him off.

"Well, you see"--and the boy winked very hard.

"Who begun it?"

"Why, that Patsy's a reg'lar bum! He's called me names--he plays hookey too, and he tried to trip me up and I give him a left-hander, and he called me a stinking pup and ever so many nasty names and then we went at it. Papa, you may strap me if you want to, but if I hadn't fit the boys would have made fun of me and called me sissy, and we went at it like fury. He made my nose bleed, and I guess I gave him a black eye; and I kicked his shins--he's got fat legs. He's just a bounder and teacher said he'd wind up in the reform school. I just wish he would!" with an angry zest.

"How do boys learn such shocking talk?" asked Aunt Florence, "When they never hear it at home, and as for fighting--"

"It is in the outside air and perhaps like measles runs through boyhood. Jack, I want you to stand up for yourself though I don't admire street fights."

"But I won't be called nasty names, and he said I was a sneak of a devil--"

"Try and keep out of the way of such boys. But if you _must_ fight stand up to it boldly. I think you didn't get the worst of it, but I guess it's good your mother came along just then, and now little boy you had better go to bed."

Jack was very glad nothing had been asked him about Marilla. He was tired and drowsy. But Aunt Florence said, "Jack I think you were a very bad boy."

Dr. Baker came in and took another look at Marilla whose pulse was still very fluttering.

"What do you suppose it is?" asked Mrs. Borden, anxiously.

"The child has a weak heart. Perhaps no organic disease at present, and if she gets through the next two or three years safely all may go well with her. But she ought not have any severe strain. Do you know anything about her family?"

"She hasn't any, I took her from that Bethany Home. She's a nice, willing, pleasant girl and a splendid hand with babies. But she was with Miss Armitage all through that awful time we had with the children teething, and the babies _are_ good. I resolved I'd never make children so troublesome as Jack was, waiting on them hand and foot. I've had a different system with them."

"The system seems to have worked well, but I think you need a stronger nursemaid."

"I've never let her lift them, I knew it was not safe for them," laughing. "Though think how poor children carry babies about; but now tell me about Aunt Hetty."

"I think it is the beginning of the end. You can't quite tell, but she's pretty well worn out with the years, and she must have a steady nurse. A hospital would be best."

"Yes, we will talk that over."

"Have you any one for tonight?"

"No. Is it as bad as that?" and Mrs. Borden turned pale.

"I should advise an emergency nurse for a week or so; by that time you can make some plans."

Mrs. Vanderveer was comfortable, but she did not want to be left alone.

"Oh, isn't it dreadful, Florence, that this should happen just now. If it only could have waited until Christmas," Mrs. Borden said with tears in her eyes. "I meant you should have such a happy wedding. You've always been like an own sister to me."

"Well, we won't worry tonight. Only--"

Miss Armitage came in and heard the story through.

"Let me telephone at once to the nurses' home, then you will feel relieved. And perhaps it would be a good thing to send Marilla to me for a little while again."

"I cannot do without a nurse girl."

"But a week or two may restore Marilla."

The nurse came, a wholesome middle aged body who had been for weeks with a helpless paralytic. And so the midnight found them all comfortable. Marilla was left on the lounge. Miss Armitage sat a long while in her soft wrapper planning about the child she felt she must rescue. Oh, she _did_ want her. She did not try to give any reason for the love that had stolen almost unaware in her heart, or the faith that this child would not disappoint her. Every year she was growing older, every year she longed more for some one of her very own. Why should she not play fairy godmother in earnest? She must have Dr. Richard's verdict.

For Mrs. Borden with many kindly qualities looked at matters only as they applied to herself. When Marilla was eighteen she would come to the freedom of a bound-out girl, too old to begin another life, settled in a rut--if she lived. Was she not one of the little ones that might be rescued and live out a higher life? There were many who could not, but she felt she must go carefully.

Mrs. Holmes proved an admirable nurse and Aunt Hetty took to her in an astonishing manner. She was attractive to the children, as well, who greeted her with a smile.

On the next day Dr. Baker admitted the paralysis was gaining rapidly and thought she could not last long. That evening she said to the nurse, "Send Mr. Borden up here, and you stay down with the ladies."

He came up and greeted her cordially, hoping for better things, as friends are wont to say.

"No, John, there will not be any better, so we won't indulge in make believes. Carry and James were quite sure this way of living wasn't good for me. They wanted me to buy a house and make it over to them and they would care for me the rest of my life. I've lived with Carry, paid her good board, too, so I knew what that would be. I couldn't live quite alone, you see--I always wanted some one round that I could see if I wanted to. Old people do get queer. So when I had to foreclose here I made you this offer. You're the only one of them all who has not asked me outright for money, and I honor you for it. Your mortgage here is twenty-three hundred."

"Yes," he said with a vague sort of hope that she wasn't going to ask him to settle it.

"I want you to get it cancelled; I'll give you the order. I've meant to do this the last year. Carry worried so at me that I went away with her and felt none the better for it. I'd rather staid at home with Bridget. So you see to that at once. And I want to make a new will."

"Aunt Hetty! Well, I don't know what to say," and his tone showed his surprise. "Don't say anything." She gave her little cackle of a laugh that always had a sound of derision in it. "You know I can't take any of it with me, and I'd like to know it will make few people pleased and happy. I'm going to make you executor, so get some one else to write out the will. I fixed it to my liking today. You've all been very good to put up with my whims and queernesses. Old people don't like too much advice, especially where money is concerned. Look in the second drawer there--in a long envelope."

"Thank you for this expression of your satisfaction. The babies and Jack may have been a nuisance at times."

"But that little girl's been good enough to make up for any annoyance--not that there's been much. Jack's a smart, funny little fellow. You know they're all more or less bad, but they grow up pretty fair. There now, I'm tired."

Mr. Borden wished her a kindly good-night and went down stairs to recount the wonderful interview.

"Oh, John!" Mrs. Borden leaned her head down on her husband's shoulder. "What a streak of good fortune! Now we really do own the house free and clear, I thought our summering would be quite moderate but it wasn't. Still it did the babies an immense deal of good after they got over their awful time. And they're so nice and well now, and are growing better looking all the time. If Marilla only _could_ make their hair curl! It's so stringy, and we haven't worried at Aunt Hetty for