CHAPTER VIII
THE SHOEMAKER'S DAUGHTER
The shoemaker was the smallest man Faith had ever seen. She thought toherself that she was glad he was not an American. When he stood up tospeak to Mrs. Scott Faith remembered a picture in one of her mother'sbooks of an orang-outang. For the shoemaker's hair was coarse andblack, and seemed to stand up all over his small head, and his facewas nearly covered by a stubbly black beard. His arms were long, andhe did not stand erect. His eyes were small and did not seem to seethe person to whom he was speaking.
But he greeted his customers pleasantly, and as Faith sat on a littlestool near his bench waiting for her aunt's return, he told her thathe had a little daughter about her own age, but that she was not verywell.
"Perhaps your aunt will let you come and see her some day?" he said.
"I'll ask her," replied Faith, and before they had time for anyfurther conversation the door opened and a tall man in a scarlet coat,deerskin trousers and high boots entered the shop.
"Any news?" he asked sharply.
"No, captain. Nothing at all," replied the shoemaker.
"You're not worth your salt, Andy," declared the officer. "I'll wagerthis small maid here would have quicker ears for news."
Faith wished that she could run away, but did not dare to move.
"Well, another summer we'll put the old fort in order and have agarrison that will be worth while. Now, what about my riding boots?"he added, and after a little talk the officer departed.
It was not long before Mrs. Scott called for her little niece and thetwo started for home.
Faith told her aunt what the shoemaker had said about his little girl,and noticed that Aunt Prissy's face was rather grave and troubled.
"Do I have to go, Aunt Prissy?" she asked.
"We'll see, my dear. But now we must hurry home, and sew on the newdresses," replied Aunt Prissy, and for a few moments they walked on insilence.
Faith could hear the musical sound of the falls, and was reminded ofthe dancing mill-stream, of the silver fox and of her own dear"Bounce." Every hour since her arrival at Aunt Prissy's had been sofilled with new and strange happenings that the little girl had nothad time to be lonely.
"What is the name of the shoemaker's little girl, Aunt Prissy?" sheasked, as they came in sight of home, with Donald and Philip, closelyfollowed by "Scotchie," coming to meet them.
"Her name is Louise Trent, and she is lame. She is older than you,several years older," answered Aunt Prissy, "and I fear she is amischievous child. But the poor girl has not had a mother to care forher for several years. She and her father live alone."
"Does she look like her father?" questioned Faith, resolving that ifsuch were the case she would not want Louise for a playmate.
"Oh, no. Louise would be pretty if she were a neat and well-behavedchild. She has soft black hair, black eyes, and is slenderly built.Too slender, I fear, for health," replied Mrs. Scott, who oftenthought of the shoemaker's motherless little girl, whose fatherseemed to resent any effort to befriend her.
"Why, that sounds just the way Esther Eldridge looks. Only Estherisn't lame," responded Faith; and, in answer to her aunt's questions,Faith described Esther's visit to the cabin, omitting, however, thefact that she had given Esther the blue beads.
Faith did not think to speak of the red-coated soldier until thefamily were gathered about the supper-table that night. Then shesuddenly remembered what he had said, and repeated it to her uncle,who was asking her about her visit to Mr. Trent's shop.
"So that's their plan. More soldiers to come another summer! 'Twas acareless thing for an officer to repeat. But they are so sure thatnone of us dare lift a hand to protect ourselves that they care notwho knows their plans. I'll see to it that Ethan Allen and the men atBennington get word of this," said Mr. Scott, and then asked Faith torepeat again exactly what the officer had said.
In a few days both of Faith's new dresses were finished; and, greatlyto her delight, Aunt Prissy had made her a pretty cap of blue velvet,with a partridge's wing on one side. She was trying on the cap beforethe mirror in the sitting-room one afternoon when she heard a queernoise on the porch and then in the front entry. Aunt Prissy wasup-stairs, and the boys were playing outdoors.
"I wonder what it is?" thought Faith, running toward the door. As sheopened it she nearly exclaimed in surprise, for there, leaning on acrutch, was the queerest little figure she had ever imagined. A littlegirl whose black hair straggled over her forehead, and whose big darkeyes had a half-frightened expression, stood staring in at thepleasant room. An old ragged shawl was pinned about her shoulders, andbeneath it Faith could see the frayed worn skirt of gray homespun. Buton her feet were a pair of fine leather shoes, well fitting and highlypolished.
"I brought your shoes," said this untidy visitor, swinging herself astep forward nearer to Faith, and holding out a bundle. "Fatherdoesn't know I've come," she added, with a little smile ofsatisfaction. "But I wanted to see you."
"Won't you sit down?" said Faith politely, pulling forward a bigcushioned chair.
Louise Trent sat down as if hardly knowing if she dared trust thechair or not.
"Your aunt didn't let you come to see me, did she? I knew shewouldn't," continued Louise. "What you got?" she questioned, lookingat the pretty cap with admiring eyes.
"It's new. And I never had one before," answered Faith.
"Well, I've never had one, and I never shall have. You wouldn't let metry that one on, would you?" said Louise, looking at Faith with such alonging expression in her dark eyes that Faith did not hesitate for amoment.
"Of course I will," she answered quickly, and taking off the capplaced it carefully on Louise's untidy black hair.
"If your hair was brushed back it would look nice on you," declaredFaith. "You wait, and I'll get my brush and fix your hair," and beforeLouise could reply Faith was running up the stairs. She was back in amoment with brush and comb, and Louise submitted to having her hairput in order, and tied back with one of the new hair ribbons that AuntPrissy had given Faith. While Faith was thus occupied Louise lookedabout the sitting-room, and asked questions.
"There," said Faith. "Now it looks nice on you. But what makes youwear that old shawl?"
Louise's face clouded, and she raised her crutch as if to strikeFaith. "Don't you make fun of me. I have to wear it. I don't havenothing like other girls," she exclaimed, and dropping the crutch, sheturned her face against the arm of the chair and began to sobbitterly.
For a moment Faith looked at her in amazement, and then she knelt downbeside the big chair and began patting the shoulder under the raggedshawl.
"Don't cry, Louise. Don't cry. Listen, I'll ask my aunt to make you acap just like mine. I know she will."
"No. She wouldn't want me to have a cap like yours," declared Louise.
"Isn't your father good to you?" questioned Faith. And this questionmade Louise sit up straight and wipe her eyes on the corner of the oldshawl.
"Good to me! Of course he is. Didn't he make me these fine shoes?" sheanswered, pointing to her feet. "But how could he make me a prettycap or a dress? And he doesn't want to ask anybody. But you needn'tthink he ain't good to me!" she concluded, reaching after the crutch.
"Don't go yet, Louise. See, that's my doll over on the sofa. Her nameis 'Lady Amy,'" and Faith ran to the sofa and brought back her beloveddoll and set it down in Louise's lap.
"I never touched a doll before," said Louise, almost in a whisper."You're real good to let me hold her. Are you going to live here?"
"I'm going to school," replied Faith. "I've never been to school."
"Neither have I," said Louise. "I s'pose you know your letters, don'tyou?"
"Oh, yes. Of course I do. I can read and write, and do fractions,"answered Faith.
"I can't read," declared Louise.
Just then Mrs. Scott entered the room. If she was surprised to see theshoemaker's daughter seated in her easy chair, wearing Faith's new capand holding "Lady Amy," sh
e did not let the little girls know it, butgreeted Louise cordially, took Faith's new shoes from their wrappingand said they were indeed a fine pair of shoes. Then she turned toLouise, with the pleasant little smile that Faith so admired, andsaid: "You are the first little girl who has come to see my littleniece, so I think it would be pleasant if you two girls had a taste ofmy fruit cake that I make just for company," and she started towardthe dining-room and soon returned with a tray.
"Just bring the little table from the corner, Faithie, and set it infront of Louise and 'Lady Amy,'" she said, and Faith hastened to obey.
Aunt Prissy set the tray on the table. "I'll come back in a littlewhile," she said, and left the girls to themselves.
The tray was very well filled. There was a plate of the rich darkcake, and beside it two dainty china plates and two fringed napkins.There was a plate of thin slices of bread and butter, a plate ofcookies, and two glasses filled with creamy milk.
"Isn't this lovely?" exclaimed Faith, drawing a chair near the table."It's just like a party, isn't it? I'm just as glad as I can be thatyou brought my shoes home, Louise. We'll be real friends now, shan'twe?"