CHAPTER XII
SEVEN YEARS
Seven years slipped by unmarked by any important change. The Hardingswere still prosperous in an humble way. The cooper had been able toobtain work most of the time, and this, with the annual remittance forlittle Ida, had enabled the family not only to live in comfort, but evento save up one hundred and fifty dollars a year. They might even havesaved more, living as frugally as they were accustomed to do, but therewas one point in which they would none of them consent to be economical.The little Ida must have everything she wanted. Timothy brought homenearly every day some little delicacy for her, which none of the restthought of sharing. While Mrs. Harding, far enough from vanity, alwaysdressed with extreme plainness, Ida's attire was always of good materialand made up tastefully.
Sometimes the little girl asked: "Mother, why don't you buy yourselfsome of the pretty things you get for me?"
Mrs. Harding would answer, smiling: "Oh, I'm an old woman, Ida. Plainthings are best for me."
"No, I'm sure you're not old, mother. You don't wear a cap. Aunt Rachelis a good deal older than you."
"Hush, Ida. Don't let Aunt Rachel hear that. She wouldn't like it."
"But she is ever so much older than you, mother," persisted the child.
Once Rachel heard a remark of this kind, and perhaps it was that thatprejudiced her against Ida. At any rate, she was not one of those whoindulged her. Frequently she rebuked her for matters of no importance;but it was so well understood in the cooper's household that this wasAunt Rachel's way, that Ida did not allow it to trouble her, as thelightest reproach from Mrs. Harding would have done.
Had Ida been an ordinary child, all this petting would have had aninjurious effect upon her mind. But, fortunately, she had the raresimplicity, young as she was, which lifted her above the dangers whichmight have spoiled her otherwise. Instead of being made vain andconceited, she only felt grateful for the constant kindness shown her byher father and mother, and brother Jack, as she was wont to call them.Indeed it had not been thought best to let her know that such were notthe actual relations in which they stood to her.
There was one point, much more important than dress, in which Idaprofited by the indulgence of her friends.
"Martha," the cooper was wont to say, "Ida is a sacred charge in ourhands. If we allow her to grow up ignorant, or only allow her ordinaryadvantages, we shall not fulfill our duty. We have the means, throughProvidence, of giving her some of those advantages which she would enjoyif she had remained in that sphere to which her parents doubtlessbelong. Let no unwise parsimony on our part withhold them from her."
"You are right, Timothy," said his wife; "right, as you always are.Follow the dictates of your own heart, and fear not that I shalldisapprove."
"Humph!" said Aunt Rachel; "you ain't actin' right, accordin' to my wayof thinkin'. Readin', writin' and cypherin' was enough for girls tolearn in my day. What's the use of stuffin' the girl's head full ofnonsense that'll never do her no good? I've got along without it, and Iain't quite a fool."
But the cooper and his wife had no idea of restricting Ida's educationto the rather limited standard indicated by Rachel. So, from the first,they sent her to a carefully selected private school, where she had theadvantage of good associates, and where her progress was astonishinglyrapid.
Ida early displayed a remarkable taste for drawing. As soon as this wasdiscovered, her adopted parents took care that she should have abundantopportunity for cultivating it. A private master was secured, who gaveher lessons twice a week, and boasted everywhere of the progress made byhis charming young pupil.
"What's the good of it?" asked Rachel. "She'd a good deal better belearnin' to sew and knit."
"All in good time," said Timothy. "She can attend to both."
"I never wasted my time that way," said Rachel. "I'd be ashamed to."
Nothing could exceed Timothy's gratification, when, on his birthday, Idapresented him with a beautifully drawn sketch of his wife's placid andbenevolent face.
"When did you do it, Ida?" he asked, after earnest expressions ofadmiration.
"I did it in odd minutes," she answered, "when I had nothing else todo."
"But how could you do it, without any of us knowing what you wereabout?"
"I had a picture before me, and you thought I was copying it, but,whenever I could do it without being noticed, I looked up at mother asshe sat at her sewing, and so, after a while, I finished the picture."
"And a fine one it is," said the cooper, admiringly.
Mrs. Harding insisted that Ida had flattered her, but this Ida would notadmit.
"I couldn't make it look as good as you, mother," she said. "I tried,but somehow I didn't succeed as I wanted to."
"You wouldn't have that difficulty with Aunt Rachel," said Jack,roguishly.
Ida could not help smiling, but Rachel did not smile.
"I see," she said, with severe resignation, "that you've taken toridiculing your poor aunt again. But it's only what I expect. I don'tnever expect any consideration in this house. I was born to be a martyr,and I expect I shall fulfill my destiny. If my own relations laugh atme, of course I can't expect anything better from other folks. But Ishan't be long in the way. I've had a cough for some time past, and Iexpect I'm in consumption."
"You make too much of a little joke, Rachel," said the cooper,soothingly. "I'm sure Jack didn't mean anything."
"What I said was complimentary," said Jack.
Rachel shook her head incredulously.
"Yes, it was. Ask Ida. Why won't you draw Aunt Rachel, Ida? I thinkshe'd make a very striking picture."
"So I will," said Ida, hesitatingly, "if she will let me."
"Now, Aunt Rachel, there's a chance for you," said Jack. "Take myadvice, and improve it. When it's finished it can be hung up in the ArtRooms, and who knows but you may secure a husband by it."
"I wouldn't marry," said Rachel, firmly compressing her lips; "not ifanybody'd go down on their knees to me."
"Now, I'm sure, Aunt Rachel, that's cruel of you," said Jack, demurely.
"There ain't any man I'd trust my happiness to," pursued the spinster.
"She hasn't any to trust," observed Jack, _sotto voce_.
"Men are all deceivers," continued Rachel, "the best of 'em. You can'tbelieve what one of 'em says. It would be a great deal better if peoplenever married at all."
"Then where would the world be a hundred years hence?" suggested hernephew.
"Come to an end, most likely," answered Aunt Rachel; "and I'm not surebut that would be the best thing. It's growing more and more wickedevery day."
It will be seen that no great change has come over Miss Rachel Harding,during the years that have intervened. She takes the same dishearteningview of human nature and the world's prospects as ever. Nevertheless,her own hold upon the world seems as strong as ever. Her appetitecontinues remarkably good, and, although she frequently expressesherself to the effect that there is little use in living, she would beas unwilling to leave the world as anyone. It is not impossible that shederives as much enjoyment from her melancholy as other people from theircheerfulness. Unfortunately her peculiar mode of enjoying herself iscalculated to have rather a depressing influence upon the spirits ofthose with whom she comes in contact--always excepting Jack, who has alively sense of the ludicrous, and never enjoys himself better than inbantering his aunt.
"I don't expect to live more'n a week," said Rachel, one day. "My sandsof life are 'most run out."
"Are you sure of that, Aunt Rachel?" asked Jack.
"Yes, I've got a presentiment that it's so."
"Then, if you're sure of it," said her nephew, gravely, "it may be aswell to order the coffin in time. What style would you prefer?"
Rachel retreated to her room in tears, exclaiming that he needn't be insuch a hurry to get her out of the world; but she came down to supper,and ate with her usual appetite.
Ida is no less a favorite with Jack than with the rest of the household.I
ndeed, he has constituted himself her especial guardian. Rough as he isin the playground, he is always gentle with her. When she was justlearning to walk, and in her helplessness needed the constant care ofothers, he used, from choice, to relieve his mother of much of the taskof amusing the child. He had never had a little sister, and the care ofa child as young as Ida was a novelty to him. It was perhaps this veryoffice of guardian to the child, assumed when she was young, that madehim feel ever after as if she were placed under his special protection.
Ida was equally attached to Jack. She learned to look to him forassistance in any plan she had formed, and he never disappointed her.Whenever he could, he would accompany her to school, holding her by thehand, and, fond as he was of rough play, nothing would induce him toleave her.
"How long have you been a nursemaid?" asked a boy older than himself,one day.
Jack's fingers itched to get hold of his derisive questioner, but he hada duty to perform, and he contented himself with saying: "Just wait afew minutes, and I'll let you know."
"I dare say you will," was the reply. "I rather think I shall have towait till both of us are gray before that time."
"You will not have to wait long before you are black and blue," retortedJack.
"Don't mind what he says, Jack," whispered Ida, fearing that he wouldleave her.
"Don't be afraid, Ida; I won't leave you. I'll attend to his businessanother time. I guess he won't trouble us to-morrow."
Meanwhile the boy, emboldened by Jack's passiveness, followed, with moreabuse of the same sort. If he had been wiser, he would have seen a stormgathering in the flash of Jack's eye; but he mistook the cause of hisforbearance.
The next day, as they were going to school, Ida saw the same boy dodginground the corner with his head bound up.
"What's the matter with him, Jack?" she asked.
"I licked him like blazes, that's all," said Jack, quietly. "I guesshe'll let us alone after this."
Even after Jack left school, and got a position in a store at twodollars a week, he gave a large part of his spare time to Ida.
"Really," said Mrs. Harding, "Jack is as careful of Ida as if he was herguardian."
"A pretty sort of a guardian he is!" said Aunt Rachel. "Take my word forit, he's only fit to lead her into mischief."
"You do him injustice, Rachel. Jack is not a model boy, but he takes thebest care of Ida."
Rachel shrugged her shoulders, and sniffed significantly. It was quiteevident that she did not have a very favorable opinion of her nephew.