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

some books and pictures, mostly Madonnas.

"Poor child," he said. "She's been worked too hard. All her strength seems gone. And a case of heat prostration. It's been an awful day. Who is she?"

Miss Armitage told over the incident. "I have seen her sitting there several times. It is shady in the afternoon."

"Two fat babies," and he laughed. "I should think one would be enough for such a child to manage. Overwork and underfeeding I think, and the heat. I'll see if I can rouse her."

Marilla opened her eyes and the lids seemed to fall from absolute weariness. The lips moved but made no sound.

"It is a kind of comatose state. Not knowing all that is back of it I can't quite make up my mind. If this awful heat would let up! I'll leave some drops to be given to her and will come in one my first round in the morning. I haven't been to the Settlement House yet."

"Oh, you must go. That little Mary Burns died at noon, and her mother is half crazy over it. Poor little thing, deformed and all that. This child has a nice straight body and a fine smooth skin. I'll go round in Arch street and see what I can learn about her."

"She looks worth saving if life really holds anything for her. Poor things! Why are so many sent into the world 'just to toil.'"

"I was going over----"

"Never mind now. I'll attend to it all, and see the Burns' priest. Don't be worried. These drops will keep up her strength," nodding to Marilla. "And I will report in the morning."

Dr. Richards went his way. Miss Armitage sat and considered. Perhaps it would be as well to go to Mrs. Borden's. They would be feeling much alarmed, no doubt. She explained to Jane and put on her hat again and picked up her sun umbrella, for some streets were still in a glow. This was the best part of the city however, and there were some fine trees.

She stopped and looked in a directory. There was only one Borden living on Arch street, a Mr. John Borden, lawyer. She made a note of the number. Arch street was some distance farther west, and then only a block or so. A very nice looking three-story brick with a stone stoop. She mounted and rang the bell. There certainly was a child or children crying.

A young woman much distraught answered the door. And now positive howls greeted her ears.

"We are in such trouble," apologized the woman.

"I am Miss Armitage and live in Loraine place, nearly opposite where the little girl fainted. Did the babies get home safely?"

"Oh, we are so glad! Won't you please come upstairs for my sister can't leave the children. We have been almost crazy! One boy said she fell off the steps. Is she much hurt?"

"She had a bad fainting spell. The doctor came and he hardly knows what to think until tomorrow. The policeman proposed sending her to the Hospital, but I am one of the managers of the Settlement House in Beacon street, so I had her brought over to my house. A fall, you said?"

"That was what a boy said--that she tumbled off the step. Oh, Pansy dear, do hush! You miss Marilla, don't you? The best little nurse in all the world. Oh, what _can_ we do without her!"

Mrs. Borden was pacing the floor with the baby's head against her shoulder and gently patting her. She did not scream now, but sobbed in a very sleepy fashion.

"You see, we are to start on Saturday noon, and we shall not come back until the middle of September. We thought it would be so nice for Marilla, too, she'd kind of run down though she wasn't at all ill. Bridget worried that she ate so little and she was growing thin."

"How long has she been with you?"

"I took her from an institution--the Bethany Home--about the middle of October. She was just twelve, the Matron said. I think she was very glad to come. She's had a good home and plenty to eat. And one funny thing is that Bridget took such a fancy to her, and though Bridget's good as gold, she has some queer streaks."

Mrs. Borden sat down and drew a long breath. Pansy had fallen asleep at last.

"And we never let her lift the children or carry them up and down. I think babies are sometimes injured for life that way in falling. They used to sit on the rug and she'd tell them stories. I think she must have made them out of her head--funny things and she'd act them off and the babies would laugh and laugh--it was as good as a play. They seemed to understand every word. Marilla was a born nurse girl. But what can we do? We must have someone, and there's only such a little time."

Miss Armitage was thinking.

"Perhaps I might help you out," she said kindly. "There is a young girl with us who worked in a factory until she gave out. We sent her to the Rest House in the country and she _did_ improve, but they wouldn't take her back in the factory. She's a nice pleasant girl about seventeen."

"Oh, how good of you to think of it! But I can't pay high wages, for there'll be her board and it won't be hard. When the babies are well they are as good as kittens though they can't scamper around so much. And they're so fat they won't walk very soon. It'll just be sitting round and amusing them and looking after their food. I couldn't give more than three dollars a week--we are not at all rich," with a short laugh of apology.

"I think Ellen would come for awhile."

"And I should want Marilla as soon as she was well enough. You see she's bound-out to me, and we all like her so much. I don't see what _could_ have happened to her. She has been out in the fresh air most of the time and we always tell her to go slow with the babies, not rush along in the heat. What did she say?"

"Oh, she hasn't spoken at all. She lies just unconscious."

"Good gracious! Oh, you don't think she will die?" and Mrs. Borden really turned pale with fright.

"A person sometimes lies that way for days when overcome with the heat. The doctor can tell better tomorrow."

"Oh, poor little Marilla! She is so sweet-tempered. And you were so good not to send her off to a hospital. How ever should we have found her! There is so little time. When shall we hear about this other girl?"

"I will telephone as soon as I go home and tell them to send her in the morning," and Miss Armitage rose.

"We are so much obliged." She followed her visitor out in the hall.

"Do not come down," said Miss Armitage. "And I hope the babies will improve."

"Thank you--for everything."

The sun was going down and some stray wafts of wind wandered along, which made the heat rather more endurable.

"Jane," she said as she walked into the room, "did you notice any bruise on the child's head while you were bathing her. She fell off of the steps it seemed."

"There was none on her forehead. Her hair is very thick and I really did not look only to see that it was in a nice, clean condition. She hasn't suffered for want of cleanliness."

Then she told Jane all she had learned, adding:

"They seem very nice kind of people. But oh! those babies!"

Miss Armitage telephoned to the settlement House, stating the case.

"Yes, Ellen Day was still there and would be very glad of the position. She would go the first thing in the morning."

Jane insisted on bringing in a cot and sleeping beside the little girl who lay quite as still as if she were dead. Now and then she gave her the drops and fanned the air about her. The morning came and the city was astir again. But it was quiet in Loraine place. So many had gone away and there were no trolleys nearby.

They looked over Marilla's head and found one spot above the ear that had a small bit of discoloration, but it was not in a dangerous place. The doctor came in.

"I did not think there would be much change," he said. Then he tried to rouse her. Jane held her up while they gave her a little milk which she swallowed without difficulty. She opened her eyes and closed them again, then lay quiet.

He listened to Miss Armitage's interview and nodded as she went along.

"The child is terribly run down. I think she has worked harder than any one imagined. But they seem to have appreciated her."

No one could guess the strain of talking so incessantly to amuse the babies, of reading to Jack, of having eyes all over to see that he did not torment the little ones, push their playthings out of the way, give them sly pinches or tweak their hair. She did hate to tell tales on him. And when he coaxed to go out with her he was a constant care. School had been closed for a fortnight. Oh, how tired she was every night!

"You don't eat more than a bird," Bridget would complain.

"But I'm never hungry now, I shall be so glad when we get to the real country, and grass, and everything. I'm so tired of the rows and rows of red brick houses, and they all seem so hot."

And now Bridget was almost heart broken.

Ellen Day came in to tell Miss Armitage how glad she was that a good word had been spoken for her. "And she was sure she should like the ladies and the pretty little boy. But how fat the babies were and not a bit pretty. They were to start at twelve tomorrow."

It was still hot, but in the afternoon it clouded up and the evening brought a most refreshing shower. The hot wave was broken.

Sunday afternoon they had rolled the couch over by the window. Miss Armitage sat reading. Jane had gone out for a walk. The child seemed to have grown thinner in these few days.

She opened her eyes slowly and looked intently at the woman sitting there in her soft, white attire. She was so sweet and pretty.

"Are you a fairy godmother?" Marilla asked in a weak, wandering tone.

"A--what?" smiling in surprise.

"A fairy godmother. You don't look like the other one, but then it was night and we went to the King's ball. Oh, it was so splendid!"

"When was that?" in a soft, persuasive tone.

"Oh, a long time ago. I was Cinderella, and every new Cinderella dances with the Prince, you know. Only they can't dance but once with him."

It was something the child had read, doubtless.

"Do you feel better?" she asked tenderly.

Marilla glanced around and sighed. Then she said in a frightened tone--

"Oh, where am I? And where are the babies? I heard them cry."

"You are all safe and right. And the babies and all the family went down on Long Island."

"It's so queer."

The eyelids drooped again and she fell asleep.

An