CHAPTER XIII.
GOOD NEWS.
IT seemed to Kathie in these days as if she had her hands very full. Theweeks were hardly long enough. Yet what could be left out? The dailycall at the Darrells', or the Morrisons', for now Ethel looked to seeher every day, and used to confide to her the sums that bothered, thethoughts that puzzled, and the many things which come to trouble littlegirls; and if sometimes Kathie considered them tiresome or foolish, sheremembered how patient dear Aunt Ruth used to be with her in the oldtimes,--and now she had Uncle Robert saved to her by Ethel's loss.
No, neither of those could be given up, nor the school-lessons, nor themusic, nor even Sarah, who _was_ improving.
The blue ribbon had delighted her exceedingly. Kathie said, very gentlyindeed,--that is, prefacing and ending it with something pleasant,--"Ithink it will be much prettier for your hair than any other color." Thatstarted Sarah upon a new tack.
"I wish you would tell me something about colors," she begged in hernext letter. "I always remember how lovely you looked that night at theFair, and some of the ladies too. I can't be pretty, I know, but I'dlike to look nice, so that people wouldn't laugh at me. Now that I havebegun, there are so many things that I want to know. Cousin Ellen helpsme a good deal, and she is such a rest to mother. She has thepleasantest way of managing the children, and does such a deal ofsewing. Father said I might raise all the chickens I wanted to thissummer, and I think I'll buy a nice rocking-chair for the parlor. O, Ihave crocheted two beautiful tidies, and one of them is about as good assold for two dollars and a half. If it isn't too much trouble, I wouldlike to send the money to you, and let you buy me some books. You knowwhat is pretty and interesting. And if you would only tell me what wouldbe nice for summer dresses and a hat."
The ice being once broken, discussions upon dress followed quitefrequently. When Kathie was in any doubt she referred the subject toAunt Ruth. It was plain that Sarah was emerging from her crude andbarbaric state, yet she showed no disposition thus far to drift overinto the frothy waves of vanity. With her other knowledge seemed to comeshrewd, practical self-knowledge.
Jim too had been made the happy recipient of some useful books. Heseemed to have a great taste for wood-working,--"conjuring," his fathersaid,--and talked a little of going to the city to learn a trade, butMr. Strong had no fancy for giving him up now, when he was such a help.
"The farm is plenty large enough for two," Mr. Strong said, "and there'sno life so independent."
But Mr. Conover felt that it ought to be rendered interesting as well.So he asked Jim to come down to Cedarwood and take a look around, whichdelighted the youth greatly, and gave him some new ideas.
The rumors concerning Belle Hadden's father proved too true. It was anaggravated case, and each day brought new circumstances to light. It wasuseless to think of holding their position in Brookside. Acquaintancesbegan to make ceremonious calls, or bow coldly. A few of the girls inschool openly rejoiced.
"Thank the Lord my father never stole nor cheated," said Mary Carson."I'd rather be a plebeian than a thief."
The mortification was too much. Belle begged and prayed that she mightbe allowed to leave Brookside, and finally a visit to an aunt wasdetermined upon. She was a queen to the last moment, though, and saidher good-bys to the few with a haughty grace.
"Thus endeth the reign of the patricians," commented Emma Lauriston.
There was a grave, perplexed light in Sue Coleman's eyes.
"Belle was real fascinating," she said; "but I wonder that we--that someof us hadn't more sense last winter. We all went to persecuting andruling out Kathie Alston, who bore it all like a saint. Belle hadcourage and pride, but there was something nobler in Kathie." Yet Sueknit her brows in silent perplexity.
"But there is another view of it that puzzles me, after all," she said,breaking her long silence. "Where _do_ people make a distinction? Nowsuppose Kathie Alston invited this _protegee_ of hers to her house, andyou or I should drop in--it would look ill-bred to take Kathie away fromher guest, and yet it is not likely her talk would interest us much.Then as Kathie grows larger--well, it is all of a muddle in my brain. Idare say these Strongs are good, honest, respectable people, and--thereis no use in smoothing it over--Mr. Hadden was dreadfully dishonest. Alltheir grandeur and fine clothes belong by right to some one else. Andyet they are allowed to go into the best society. Is it _quite_ right?"
"Not the _very_ best, perhaps," returned Emma, slowly. "A good manypeople do insist upon worth, virtue, honesty, and all that."
"And then, as Kathie said, Belle was not to blame for her father'ssins."
"It seems to me now that Belle's mistake was in trying to decide whoshould be greatest, and pushing down all who did not exactly suit her.She had no right to be the judge."
"Who of us has? And here is another question. You remember Mrs. Duncan?She went to the city about a fortnight ago, and had a business offer.First, I must tell you that she was very elegantly brought up, but herfather died, and somehow the fortune melted into thin air. She went tovisit an aunt, and met Mr. Duncan, who was cashier in a bank. They havealways lived very nicely,--stylishly, Belle would say,--but now theyhave nothing, and Mrs. Duncan has no friends who can take care ofher. She has forgotten a good deal of her French and her otheraccomplishments, and teachers' situations are hard to get. Well, a Mrs.Marsh in the city has offered Mrs. Duncan eight hundred dollars a yearto take a position in her millinery establishment. She has a marvellousfaculty for trimming,--equal to any French woman. And why wouldn't shebe just as good and just as much of a lady if she did take it? Will itmake her coarse and vulgar?"
"No," answered Emma, decisively.
"Yet I dare say the Hadden children would not be allowed to associatewith the Duncan girls. I cannot seem to get at the wrong, nor where itcomes in."
"I believe, after all, Kathie Alston has the secret,--the little leavenwhich leavens the whole lump."
"Only some of us object to being leavened"; and Sue finished with alaugh.
But though Kathie had not heard the talk, there was a secret uneasinessin her soul as well. Sarah Strong was begging her to come up toMiddleville again, and Uncle Robert believed the relaxation would do hergood.
"Mamma," she said, thoughtfully, "there are one or two puzzles that Icannot make quite clear to my own mind."
"What is the matter now? Any new gift for Sarah?"
"Not a gift exactly, but--a great pleasure. When I was with them in thewagon that day, and they were both so cordial and warm-hearted, itappeared rude, or at least impolite, not to ask them to call here. Mrs.Strong said, 'Sarah wouldn't look well among your grand people'; butthere was such a sad, wistful look in Sarah's eyes, as if somehow shefelt that she was shut out."
"And you would like to have her come?" returned Mrs. Alston, with asmile.
"I was thinking how happy it would make her, mamma. I don't believe sheever saw so many pretty things together in her life,--and she is so fondof them."
"And what puzzles you?"
"Whether it would be quite--I don't mean that I am too proud," catchingherself with a quick breath, while a scarlet flush quivered from brow tochin.
"Whether it would be proper,--is that what you mean?" asked her mother.
"Yes"; and Kathie began to twist the fringe of the nearest tidy.
"Miss Jessie asked you to her house, you know. We lived very plainlythen, and you had to wear a cheap delaine for best dress all winter."
"Then you think I may?" she exclaimed, joyously, while her soft eyesbrightened.
"It all depends upon the manner of the asking. I think she might comesome Saturday when you were alone and have a very pleasant visit. It isnot likely she would enjoy meeting several of the girls here."
"O mamma, I should ask no one!"
"Not because we should be so ashamed of Sarah, but on account of herfeelings. It is best for little girls to exercise tact, as well asgrown-up people; and sometimes it proves awkward work trying to makedifferent kin
ds or sets harmonize. By observing a few simple rules, andstudying the comfort of both parties, you may be able to give allgreater happiness."
"Then, when I go up, I shall invite Sarah in so cordial a manner thather mother will see that I mean every word."
"Yes; for the unkindest invitation of all is to ask people purely out ofcompliment."
The smooth brow was slightly shadowed again. "Mamma," she said, in a lowtone, "can people--grown-up ladies, I mean--get along without saying ordoing things that they really do not mean to have taken in earnest?"
"They had better not say them. A Christian woman will be truthful firstof all; but it is not necessary to make candor a cloak for theindulgence of unkind or heartless remarks. Religion, it seems to me,holds the essence of true politeness,--to do unto others as you wouldhave them do unto you."
The next day Kathie was quite late in getting home, having stopped atthe Darrells'. Uncle Robert and mamma were up in Aunt Ruth's room.
"What will you give me for a letter with a grand seal as if it came fromthe very Commander-in-Chief or the President? Look! To 'Miss KathieAlston.' What correspondent have you in Washington, we would all like toknow?"
Uncle Robert held the letter above her head. A bold, peculiarhandwriting that she had never seen before. Whose could it be?
"I am sure I don't know," coloring with interest and excitement. "I havea gold piece in my purse."
"I will not be quite so mercenary as that. You shall tell us whom it isfrom."
Kathie took the letter and broke it open so as not to destroy the seal,saw the beginning,--"My dear little friend,"--ran her eye over the twopages without taking in anything, and looked at the signature.
"O," with a cry of surprise, "it is from General Mackenzie! Why,"--andthen she began to read in good earnest,--"Mr. Morrison is alive, safe!General Mackenzie found him. O Uncle Robert!"
She could not finish the rest, but buried her head on Uncle Robert'sshoulder to have a good little cry out of pure joy and thankfulness.
"Shall I read it aloud?"
She placed the letter in his hand.
"MY DEAR LITTLE FRIEND,--I dare say you will be surprised at receiving a letter from a busy old soldier like me, but I met with an incident a few days ago with which you are so intimately connected that I cannot resist the good excuse. Of course all the glorious news and rejoicing has reached you, but we here on the spot are hearing new things daily, some joyful, but many sad. We went up the James River one morning to a small settlement originally negro quarters, where we heard a number of wounded prisoners had been taken. We found thirty poor fellows in all, who had suffered terribly from neglect, for though the negroes were well-meaning and very warm-hearted, they were miserably poor and ignorant. Half a dozen of the soldiers had been very ill from fevers, and upon questioning them I found one was--whom do you think?--your uncle's substitute, a William Morrison. That took me back to last winter at once, and to my little friend, so do not wonder if we had a good long talk about you and the beautiful Cedarwood of which I have heard so much. I believe it did the poor fellow a world of good. He was wounded and taken prisoner, and brought up here by the negroes, as far as I can learn. In those few days of our final successes the small events were overlooked in the glory of the grander ones. His wound was not very severe, but fever set in, and for three weeks he was delirious. About ten days ago he wrote home, but he was not sure that his messenger was reliable. He was much better, and we despatched those who could travel to head-quarters at once. I fancy that he will be mustered out as soon as possible. If his friends should not have heard, will you please inform them? He holds you all in such warm and grateful remembrance that it was delightful to talk to him. I rejoice with you that he is safe, and I do not question but that he has done a soldier's whole duty, I thought I discerned in him the spirit of another little soldier, who I dare say finds some battles to fight. Give my regards to your family, and do not feel surprised when I tell you that you may expect me at Cedarwood some day before long.
"Truly yours, "W. MACKENZIE, U. S. A."
"It hardly seems possible!" Kathie said, with a sob. "But they have notheard, and they will be so glad!"
Uncle Robert began to pace the room, much moved. Of late death hadappeared such a certainty, and though he knew the life had been freelygiven for his, his first emotions were those of devout gratitude to Godthat this sacrifice had not been required. Then he paused beforeKathie. "My little darling," he said, "it is _your_ good news. Andthough the Morrisons may hear it in a day or two from other sources, weowe it to them immediately. Will you go?"
Kathie wanted to very much, but O, how was she ever to get through withit! Her voice seemed to be all a quiver of tears.
"Would you like me to accompany you?
"If you will."
So Kathie bathed her face and tried to rub the little throbs out of hertemples. In a few moments she was ready, and the two walked down theavenue.
"There _cannot_ be any mistake?" she exclaimed, pausing at the door.
"O no."
Grandmother was holding the baby, who had a slight cold and fever. Ethelsat at the window, hemming some breadths of ruffling. She sprang up andbrought out chairs for them, and after one or two little inquiries wentback to her work. Oddly enough the conversation ceased for a fewmoments, and in the silence Kathie fancied that she heard her heartbeat, it was in such a tumult.
"I believe Kathie has some news for you," announced Mr. Conover,gravely.
Kathie rose and twined her arms around Ethel's neck.
"It is this," she said, all in a tremble,--"I cannot tell it as I ought,but your dear father is alive, Ethel, and is coming home soon."
"Not William! Miss Kathie!" and grandmother almost let the baby fall.
"Yes," replied Mr. Conover; "we heard to-day. I have brought theletter."
"The Lord be praised!" Then grandmother came over to Kathie, but she andEthel were crying softly in each other's arms.
"Child, are you one of God's own--Heaven-sent? for you bring us joycontinually."
"But it was sent to me," Kathie said, over a great break and falter. "IfI could have made it so in the beginning,--but I couldn't, and God kepthim safely. We all waited and prayed."
"And I despaired! I am worse than doubting Thomas! Ah, how good God isto us all!"
Mrs. Morrison entered with a pail of milk "O," she exclaimed, "you havehad news! Have they found his body?"
"His body and soul. He will be back shortly. The tidings came through afriend of Kathie."
"Dear Ethel, little one, it is blessed news! You would never have wantedfor love and kindness while Hugh and I were alive; but there's no lovequite like a parent's. How Hugh will rejoice! He never could give him upaltogether."
"Mr. Conover has a letter to read," said grandmother.
Little did General Mackenzie imagine that his words would bring so greata joy. They all listened breathlessly, and then wanted it read overagain to lengthen out the good news. And when at dusk Uncle Robertdeclared they must go, they all begged for Kathie to stay and drink tea,and would take no refusal.
"But I must return," said Uncle Robert, "or the table will be kept forus both."
Mrs. Morrison made some biscuits, and brought out her china, as well asa damask table-cloth. Hugh, coming in, wondered at the feast; butEthel's first word told him all. She, poor child, was brimful of joy. Itdid one good to look at the roses on her cheeks, and hear the littlelaughs that came for joy, and yet were so near to tears.
When Kathie reached home she was absolutely tired with all theexcitement, and mamma said there must be no lessons that night; so theytook the lounge in the shaded half-light of the library, and Kathie laidher head in Uncle Robert's lap, for it almost ached. And there they hada tender
talk.
"But we shall never forget it," she said. "It seems as if it would helpme to remember all the pains and sorrows and burdens that we can try tobear for one another."
"It is what God means us to learn and to do. 'For no man liveth untohimself, and no man dieth unto himself.'"
"And we are all so oddly linked in with one another,--such a littlething brought the Morrisons here, and then my meeting General Mackenziegave him an interest. The news would have come in a day or two, Isuppose; but, Uncle Robert, it seemed so good, since he risked his lifein your place, that we should be the first to take the joyful tidings tothem. I haven't anything in the world to ask."
"Yes, my darling, I am so glad that General Mackenzie did find him; andmore than glad that our brave soldiers can return to their own pleasantfiresides."
"Neither of _our_ soldiers was very grand in the world's estimation,that is, as to position, but they have both suffered a good deal for thecause. It is so sweet to think that, though the world knows nothingabout it, God remembers."
"And that no act of self-denial or heroism goes without its rewardthere. It is hard sometimes to see it passed so unnoticed in this world,but I suppose that is where patience needs to have her perfect work."
Kathie wrote a little note to Rob the next morning, beside getting herlessons; and before the day ended they had a letter from Mr. Morrisonhimself, announcing that he was to be sent home on a furlough.
"I shall have a dangerous rival," exclaimed Mr. Meredith, in his teasingtone, "and when General Mackenzie comes I expect to be quiteovershadowed. No stars nor bars nor shoulder-straps,--nothing but a poorunknown private! What good could he do?"
"He followed his captain and did his duty."
"Good!" exclaimed Charlie, who was standing beside his brother-in-law."You will never find Kathie being caught by the glitter and show."
The old smile twinkled in Mr. Meredith's eyes.
"Well, I will promise not to be _very_ jealous. Only you know you sentme off to war, so you ought to allow me some special indulgence."
"I!" exclaimed Kathie, coloring violently.
"Yes, you cannot disown me; I am one of your soldiers. Dear littleKathie, I hope always to be true to my colors."
The last was uttered in a low tone, but it brought a more vivid flushthan the preceding sentence. Though now her eyes were downcast, yet inher heart of hearts she understood.
"It seems as if Rob ought to come home in the general returning. Howglad I shall be to see the dear old fellow!"
Was Rob fighting the good fight?