CHAPTER X.
Ethel had been greatly interested in Mrs. Weston's story of Washingtonand the Revolution. She was eager to hear more, and found both ladies ofthe Keith family kindly ready to gratify her whenever she was allowed tocarry her needlework over there instead of doing it in the room in theparsonage appropriated to the use of herself, brother, and sisters. Shewas given very little time for recreation, so could not read much forherself on that or any other subject; perceiving which, Mrs. Westonoften read to her, pausing now and then to explain anything the littlegirl did not seem to entirely comprehend, so helping the child to agreat deal of information which at that time she could have gained in noother way.
Ethel was very grateful; and, loving, generous little soul that she was,wanted others to share her pleasure; so repeated to Harry and the littlesisters all she thought they could understand of what she had learnedfrom the ladies. Also, supposing that Mrs. Coote was well read on thesubject, she ventured to ask some questions of her.
"I know nothing about those old times in this country, and what's more,I don't want to know; so let me hear no more about it," was theungracious rejoinder, and Ethel dared not venture another word.
"You're no American," Mrs. Coote went on presently, "so why should youcare about those old stories?"
"I--I believe I'm half American," Ethel returned hesitatingly. "I wasborn in Jamaica and so was my dear mamma."
"Eh! I didn't know that before. But Jamaica is only a tolerably largeisland, and though it's on this side the ocean it belongs to England.And your father was born in old England, wasn't he?"
"Yes: and I like England, but Cousin George says as we've come toAmerica to live for the rest of our lives, we're Americans now."
"Humph! So as you behave well I for one don't care whether you areAmericans or English," returned. Mrs. Coote; and there the conversationdropped.
Whenever the weather was at all suitable the three younger children weresent out of doors to play, Ethel joining them when her task was done,and usually they were all invited into Mrs. Keith's yard or house.
But stormy days had to be spent shut up in their own small room, andpoor little Ethel was almost at her wit's end to keep Harry and Nannettefrom making such a disturbance as would bring reproof and sometimes sorepunishment upon them.
They had little or no love for Mrs. Coote, who never lavished anydemonstrations of affection upon them, and from her husband they shrankas from a dangerous foe. Fortunately they rarely saw him except whensummoned to a recitation of the verses of Scripture which they werecompelled to learn for the express purpose of enabling him to show offto chance visitors as one who was successfully training up in the waythey should go the young orphans committed to his fatherly care.
As their Uncle Albert had promised, they were remembered at Christmastime by the relatives in Philadelphia, a box being sent direct to Ethel,in Mr. Coote's care. Fortunately it reached the house one day in hisabsence, and Mrs. Coote put it privately away, never breathing a word tohim of its arrival.
On Christmas morning, soon after breakfast, she opened it herself inpresence of the children, first telling them whence it had come andcautioning them to be perfectly quiet, or they might lose some of thecontents.
There were fruits, cakes, candies, and toys; all in such plentifulsupply that the children were almost wild with delight.
All four urged Mrs. Coote to share with them. She looked pleased thatthey should wish it, accepted a very little, then saying, "If you likeyou can, after a bit, carry some over to your friends at Mr. Keith's;and, Ethel, to-morrow you may write a little letter of thanks to youruncles and the rest in Philadelphia, and I will mail it for you," sheleft them to the enjoyment of their gifts.
If anything could have added to their felicity it was the note from Mrs.Keith, presently brought in by her servant girl, inviting all four totake their Christmas dinner with little Mary, and to come as early aspossible with Mrs. Coote's consent.
"Oh, Mrs. Coote, can't we go this minute?" asked Blanche and Harry in abreath, while Nannette piped, "Me wants to go, dus now; dis minute," andEthel's soft brown eyes made the same request.
"Yes, yes; I'll be only too glad to be rid of your noise and chatter forthe rest of the day," was the rather ungracious reply. "But you've allgot to be dressed in your best first," she added, going to the closetand taking down the dresses the little girls were wont to call their"Sunday frocks," in which she presently proceeded to array them.
That did not take long, and they were soon at the door of Mr. Keith'shospitable dwelling, exchanging a merry Christmas with the ladies andlittle Mary, displaying the toys sent by their relatives inPhiladelphia, and offering a share of their sweets from the same source.
Then they were led into the parlor where was a beautiful Christmas treeloaded with ornaments and gifts.
"Oh," cried Ethel, tears starting to her eyes as she spoke, "how itreminds me of Christmas times when our dear papa and mamma were withus!"
"Yes, I remember the one we had last Christmas," said Blanche; "and Ithink this one is just as pretty as it was."
"So do I," said Harry. "Oh, thank you, ma'am!" as Mrs. Keith took down abag of marbles and another of candy and handed them to him.
"And this is for dear little Nannette," she said, disengaging a dollfrom the tree and putting it into the hands of the baby girl, whoreceived it in almost speechless delight.
There was another almost exactly like it for her own little Mary, alarger one for Blanche, a neat housewife and pretty book for Ethel, anda bag of candies for each of the five; for little Mary had waited forhers until the coming of her guests.
What a happy day it was to the children! The grown people seemed to laythemselves out for their enjoyment; games and stories filled most of thetime not taken up with the partaking of the grand Christmas dinner ofturkey and all the usual accompaniments for the first course--plumpudding, ice-cream, fruits, and cake for the dessert.
The Eldons were sent for by Mrs. Coote at their usual early bedtime, andobeyed the summons without a murmur.
"Dear Mrs. Keith, you and Mrs. Weston are so good and kind to us; we'vehad such a pleasant time," Ethel said as she bade good-night.
"You are very welcome, dear child," was the kindly response, "and I hopeyou and my little Mary will have many a pleasant time together while youare living so near us."
"Thank you, ma'am; I hope so, too," returned Ethel gratefully, thenhurried away with her little brother and sisters.
Mrs. Coote met them at the parsonage door. "Go right up to your room andto bed everyone of you," she said, and they silently obeyed.
"Strange that their uncles didn't send some Christmas remembrance to thechildren," remarked Mr. Coote to his wife as they sat together at thetea table.
"Possibly they may have thought they had enough to do in providing fortheir own, and that you and I might find some little thing for those youpromised to treat as if they were your own," she rejoined in a slightlysarcastic tone.
"Humph! we're not in circumstances to do much for our own if we had'em," he sniffed angrily; "so I don't consider myself pledged to doanything of the kind."
"And the children didn't expect it, I'm sure; nobody would ever mistakeyou for a Santa Claus," she returned with a not particularly pleasantlaugh.
He colored and flashed an angry look at her, but let the remark pass insilence. Neither then nor afterward did his wife let him know of theChristmas box sent to the children. She had given them only a part ofthe sweets that day, but they received the rest in small instalmentstill all were gone.
So long as the weather was pleasant a part of nearly every day was spentat the house of their kind neighbors, but when it stormed their onlyrefuge for the greater part of the time was the small room appropriatedto them over the kitchen in their temporary home. It was hard for all,but especially for Harry and Nannette, to be so constantly confined tosuch close quarters, and Ethel could not always keep them quiet; theysometimes played noisily, at others fretted and
cried aloud because theywere so tired of staying in that little room where there was so smallspace for running and romping.
Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Coote would tolerate such noise, and again andagain the hearts of Ethel and Blanche were made to ache by the sorepunishment meted out to the little brother and sister. And sometimesthey themselves were in disgrace and severely dealt with for failures intheir tasks, or anger or too much sympathy shown the other two when theywere punished.
These were great trials, as also was the reciting of their Bible versesto Mr. Coote, and being made to repeat them before company. They werewarned not to tell any tales to the neighbors, and threatened with direconsequences if they disobeyed. So most of their troubles were kept tothemselves.
Ethel looked and longed for the promised visit from her uncle Albert,but he did not come; he seemed to have forgotten his promise. Then aftera while Mr. Coote took to reading to the children letters which he saidcame from their uncles, reproving and threatening them with punishmentfor rebellious conduct toward those who now had them in charge, andbidding them be very obedient and submissive.
Those letters were deliberate forgeries, but the innocent little onesnever dreamed of such deceit and wickedness on the part of the man whoprofessed to be so good, and poor Ethel was well nigh heartbroken thather uncles should think so ill of her and her dear little brother andsisters, and write so cruelly to them.
She tried very hard to be good and industrious at her tasks, wanting thetime to come as soon as possible when she would be able to supportherself, Blanche, Harry, and Nannette.
Thinking of that she put forth every effort to learn the various kindsof needlework Mrs. Coote undertook to teach her, with the assurance thatif she became expert in them all she could some day earn money in thatway.
At times the child's heart beat high with hope that when she was grownup she would be able to make with her own earnings a little home forherself, brother, and sisters. Remembering the unkind treatment they hadoften received at the hands of the aunts and cousins in Philadelphia shewas not at all sure that they would be much better off could they returnthere--and if they could go back how hard it would be to bid farewell tothe kind friends next door--but what could be more delightful than to getaway from these stern guardians often so unkind and unjust. And then,when she was old enough to know how to set about it, perhaps she couldfind her maternal grandparents, and they would give a good home to theirdaughter's orphan children.
Their uncle Albert did at length make them a hasty visit, but Mr. Cootetook good care that they should not be left for a moment alone with him.Also he treated them with the greatest and most effusive kindness intheir uncle's presence, so that Mr. Eldon left them there feelingassured that they had a very happy home.
Thus two years rolled slowly away to Ethel and Blanche, Harry andNannette, bringing little change except that they all grew older andtaller; wiser too in some respects and more than ever fondly attached toeach other, and the next-door neighbors who treated them so kindly.