Chapter Twelfth.
"We're not ourselves, When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind To suffer with the body." --SHAKS. KING LEAR.
THE neighbors were very kind; coming in with offers of assistance innursing the sick, bringing dainties to tempt their appetites,encouraging them with the assurance that they were but sharing thecommon lot; "almost everybody expected a chill about once in two orthree weeks; especially this time of year; and they weren't oftendisappointed, and thought themselves fortunate if they could stop at oneparoxysm till the week came round again.
"Quinine would generally stop it, and when people had a long siege ofthe ague, they often got used to it so far as to manage to keep up andabout their work; if not at all times at least between the chills, whichas a general thing came only every other day.
"Indeed it was no unusual thing for them to feel quite bright and wellon the intermediate day."
The Lightcaps were not a whit behind the others in these little acts ofkindness. Rhoda Jane forgot her envy of Mildred on learning that she wassick and seemed to have lost her relish for food.
One morning Miss Stanhope, who was getting breakfast, was favored withan early call from Miss Lightcap.
She appeared at the open kitchen door basket in hand, and marched inwithout stopping to knock. "I heerd Miss Mildred was sick and couldn'teat nothin'," she said; "and I knowed you hadn't no garden sass o' yourown; so I fetched over some tomats; we have a lot this year, realsplendid big ones, and there ain't nothin' tastes better when you'regettin' over the agur, than tomats.
"Just you cut 'em up with vinegar and pepper and salt, and if she don'tsay they're first-rate eatin'--I'm mistaken; that's all."
"Thank you, you're very kind, Miss Nightcap," said Aunt Wealthy, lookingso pleased and grateful that the girl could not take the misnomer as anintentional insult.
"Pshaw!" she said, "it's nothin'; we've plenty of 'em."
Having emptied her basket upon the table, she was starting for the door,but looked back.
"Say, do you want a girl?"
"Yes, indeed, if we can get one that's worth anything."
"Well, Celestia Ann Hunsinger told me she wouldn't mind coming here fora spell; 'cause she wants money to git new clo'es."
"What sort of a girl is she?"
"Pretty high-strung and spunky, but some punkuns for work."
"Thank you. I'll tell Mrs. Keith about it, and send you word directlyafter breakfast."
"All right. I guess she'll come if you want her."
She was scarcely gone when the door at the foot of the stairs opened,and Mildred's pale face appeared.
"Aunt Wealthy, it is too bad to see you at work here. Let me getbreakfast. I do think I can. The children are dressing each other,mother has the baby and won't let me do anything up there."
"Well, you'll not find me a whit more tractable," returned MissStanhope. "Let you get breakfast, indeed! I'd be worse than a brute if Idid.
"Go into the sitting-room and lie down on the lounge," she continuedtaking up one of the finest tomatoes and beginning to divest it of itsskin, "and I'll bring you something presently that I really hope willtaste good to you.
"That Miss Heavycap brought you a present. She's not over refined, butgood-hearted, I think, in spite of her rude ways and rough talk."
"Yes, they have been very kind and neighborly; I wish they were the sortof people one could enjoy being intimate with," Mildred said, languidly."Auntie, let me skin those tomatoes."
"Child, you look ready to drop."
"Do I?" smiling faintly, "well, I'll sit down to it. I really can't letyou do everything. How fine and large these are; are they what RhodaJane brought?"
"Yes; for your breakfast. I hope you'll relish them; and the corn-pone Ihave in the oven, too."
"See here! haven't I learned how?" cried Rupert exultingly, stepping inat the open door and holding up a foaming bucket of milk "Viny neverpersuaded old Suky to give us so much."
"It's beautiful," said Aunt Wealthy, taking it from him with acongratulatory smile. "I'll strain it at once before the cream beginsto rise."
"I'll carry the pans down cellar. And what more can I do, auntie?"
"You may draw the butter up out of the well, presently, when breakfastis quite ready."
"And let it down again when the meal's over. Hello, Milly! is that you?how white and weak you look!"
"Yes," she said, laying the last tomato in the dish, "I believe I'llhave to lie down, as Aunt Wealthy bade me, till breakfast is ready."
She tottered into the sitting-room and laid herself down on the loungefeeling so miserably weak and forlorn, so homesick for the old homewhere they had all enjoyed good health, that the tears would come inspite of every effort to restrain them.
Breakfast was to be eaten here; the table was already set, neatly, too,with snowy cloth, shining silver and delicate china; but there was alook of discomfort about the room that vexed and tried her orderly soul;sand on the carpet, dust on the furniture, children's toys and a fewarticles of clothing scattered here and there--and she had no strengthto rise and put it in order.
"And no one else is much better able," she sighed to herself, "for AuntWealthy, mother and Zillah have all had chills within a week. Oh dear,this dreadful country! why did we ever come to it!"
She heard her father's voice in the kitchen.
"Here, Aunt Wealthy, is some steak; rather better than usual, I think;can we have a bit broiled for breakfast?" and Miss Stanhope's cheerytones in reply,
"Yes, Stuart, I'll put it right on. I'm so glad you succeeded in gettingsome fresh meat. It's something of a rarity to us in these days, and Ihope they'll all relish it, Marcia and Milly, especially; for they bothneed something to build up their strength."
"Where are they? not able to be up?"
His tone was anxious and concerned.
Mildred did not catch the words of Miss Stanhope's reply, but the dooropened, her father came to her side, stooped over her and kissed herpale cheek tenderly.
"How are you, daughter? Don't be discouraged; we'll have you all rightbefore long."
"O father, I'm so out of heart," she sobbed, raising herself to put herarms round his neck and lay her head on his shoulder.
"Oh, that won't do! you must be brave and hopeful," he said, strokingher hair. "You're not so very ill, my child; ague is not a dangerousdisease."
"It isn't that, but there's so much to be done and nobody to do it;we're all so poorly."
"Don't fret about the work; we'll find some one to do it."
"But they don't do it right. Viny never would spread up a bed straightor sweep or dust without leaving half the dirt behind her. And when shewashed she faded the calicoes, shrank the flannels and made the whiteclothes a wretched color, though she tore them to pieces with hardrubbing and wringing."
"Well, we'll have just to try not to mind these trifles or be tooparticular," he said, soothingly. "Ah, here comes the breakfast," asMiss Stanhope, Rupert, Zillah and Ada trooped in, each bearing a dish,"let me help you to the table."
"I don't feel in the least hungry," she objected.
"Then eat to please father."
"And mother too," said Mrs. Keith coming in with Baby Annis in her arms."Come, daughter, dear, auntie has prepared an excellent meal for us.With some help from our kind neighbors too, I hear."
"Yes," assented Miss Stanhope, "and I've directed them according topreparations and they do taste good. Come now; when I see you eating,I'll tell you a bit of news the girl brought besides."
Mildred laughed, felt her spirits begin to rise, tasted the tomatoes,pronounced them excellent and went on to make a good hearty meal.
The world looked brighter after that.
It had been decided to try Miss Hunsinger if she could be got. Mr. Keithwent in search of her shortly after breakfast, and within an hour shewas duly installed into office.
She was a tall, strong woman with a l
arge proportion of bone and muscle;ditto of self-conceit and impudence united to uncommon energy anddecision, and a faculty of turning off a great amount of work; doing itthoroughly well too.
At first she seemed a great improvement upon Viny, and Mildred's heartrejoiced in a complete sweeping, dusting and setting to rights of thewhole house.
The children had been sent out to play in the shade of the saplinggrove, while Mrs. Keith superintended the operations of the new help,and Miss Stanhope and Mildred, in the parlor, busied themselves, the onewith the week's mending for the family, the other over her sometimeneglected studies.
"She's a real new broom--is my Celestia Ann," said Mrs. Keith, comingcheerily in, "leaves no dirty corners or cobwebs, no wrinkles in sheetsor spreads."
"O, mother, what a blessing?" cried Mildred, "if she'll only stay so."
"Ah, there's the rub! she cannot be a rose without a thorn. What was itRhoda Jane said of her, Aunt Wealthy?"
The old lady reflected a moment ere she answered.
"Large potatoes, I think it was, Marcia; and I understood it to meanthat she was a good worker. Something also that gave me the impressionthat she might be high-tempered and saucy. But as you say, we cannotexpect thorns without roses."
"She's getting dinner now," remarked Mrs. Keith, "and seems to feel asmuch at home there as about her other work. I've told her what to get,and showed her where everything is; and now I shall leave her to her owndevices; and see what will be the result."
Half an hour later the door of the parlor, where now the whole familywere gathered, was thrown open with the announcement,
"Dinner's ready; all on the table here."
Having given the summons Miss Hunsinger rushed back to the table inadvance of the family, seated herself, spread out her elbows upon it andwith a nonchalant air said, "Come, folks, it's all ready; set right up."
There was a rapid exchange of glances among the party addressed, but nota word of remonstrance or disapproval was uttered. Physically unequal tothe work that must be done, they were helpless in the hands of their"help."
The meal was begun in a profound silence which she was the first tobreak.
"Ther's some hot biscuits out thar," with a jerk of the head toward thekitchen door.
"You may bring some in," said Mrs. Keith.
"Just let one o' your gals do it this time, I will next. Turn about fairplay you know."
Mildred's eyes flashed, and she opened her lips to speak; then closedthem firmly as she thought of the consequences to her mother and auntshould this girl be sent away before she was able to take up even a partof the burden of the work.
"I'll go, mother," said Zillah, hastily leaving her place, "I don't mindit; but if I were paid for doing it, I would want to earn my money bydoing it myself."
"Well, my dear, what do you think of your new help?" queried Mr. Keith,mischievously when they had withdrawn to the privacy of the parlor.
"The thorn is rather large and sharp," she answered laughing, "but weare not the only people in the world who must make a choice of evils."
"For my part," said Mildred severely, "I think it's a species ofdishonesty to take pay for doing the work of a family and then ask themto do it themselves."
"Aren't you a trifle too hard on her, dear?" said Miss Stanhope. "It wasvery forward and impertinent, but I think hardly dishonest, because sheis not expected to do quite all the work of the family."
"Here comes Emmaretta Lightcap," said Ada, who was standing in the opendoorway. "She has an old faded calico dress, and sunbonnet and barefeet, just as usual; and a tin pan in her hands."
"Come in, Emmaretta."
The little girl stepped over the threshold and approaching Mrs. Keithsaid,
"Here's more tomats mother sent you and a bird for her," pointing toMildred, "Gote he's been out shootin' and he sent it to her."
"He's very kind, take him my thanks for it," said Mildred, coloring, andvexed with herself for doing so. "Please tell your sister, too, that Ithank her for the tomatoes and that I liked them very much."
"Are you a comin' to our school? cause Miss Damaris, she said you was,"said the child, turning to Ada, while waiting for her pan, which Zillahhad carried away to empty it.
"No! no, indeed!" cried Ada; "I don't like her, and wouldn't go therefor anything!"
"Hush, hush, Ada! you don't know Miss Drybread," said Mrs. Keith, quitesurprised at the outbreak.
"Yes, mother; don't you remember she was here one day?"
"Rhoda Jane, she's comin' over to see you this evenin'," said the littlemaid, taking her pan and departing.
Mildred's countenance fell; she appreciated Rhoda Jane's kindness; butcould not enjoy her society.
"Why, Ada," said Mr. Keith, "I knew nothing of your dislike to MissDrybread; and so when she met me in the street this morning and askedme to send her a scholar, I thought of Milly's sickness and that shemust not have so much to do, and promised that you should go."
"O father!" exclaimed the child beginning to cry.
Then they all tried to comfort her, and finally she grew in a measurereconciled to her fate.