Read Mildred's New Daughter Page 12


  CHAPTER XII.

  It was some days before Ethel's prayers seemed to be answered or thekind plans of Mrs. Keith and her mother could be carried out, for thechildren were forbidden to go over there. They were permitted to be outfor only a short time each day for exercise, and were under strictorders to keep to the side of the parsonage grounds farthest from Mr.Keith's, though no reason was assigned.

  But at last, it having occurred to Mrs. Coote that the very fact of thechildren being so suddenly and entirely deprived of the privilege ofpaying frequent visits to the home of little Mary--their favoriteresort--would tend to confirm any evil report that might have reached theKeiths, she gave them leave, one afternoon, to go over there for an houror two; a permission of which they promptly availed themselves.

  They received a hearty welcome from both, the ladies and little Mary,accompanied with kind enquiries in regard to their health and why theyhad stayed away so long.

  "We weren't allowed to come," replied Harry; "they ordered us to stayover there in their yard ever since that horrid man gave me such anawful beating for just nothing at all 'cept that I couldn't study; 'twasso hot, you know, and I wanted to be out-doors under the trees."

  "Ah, you were lazy, were you, Harry?" said Mrs. Weston, with difficultyrepressing an inclination to smile.

  "Yes, ma'am, I s'pose so," returned the little lad, "but boys can't helpthat sometimes when it's warm and they're tired of lessons and the birdsare singing and the bees humming and all the little creatures out-doorshaving such a good time."

  "Ah, but the bees are gathering honey and the birds building theirnests, hatching their eggs, or rearing their young; they catch worms andinsects for them to eat, don't you know? I think all the creatures Godhas made have something to do."

  "But they don't work all the time, do they?" he queried. "And oughtn'tboys to have some time to play?"

  "Oh, yes, indeed! some time--after the lessons have been learned andrecited."

  "Well, I believe I'll go and play now with the girls out there under thetrees," he said, and ran out whistling and laughing.

  But Ethel lingered behind. She had brought no work with her, but seemedinclined to stay with the ladies.

  "Sit down in this low rocking-chair, dear, and tell us what you havebeen doing with yourself for the last week or two, that you have notbeen in to see us," said Mrs. Keith, in a kindly, caressing tone.

  "Oh, thank you, ma'am, I have wanted to come over here so badly! But itis just as Harry said, we weren't permitted," said Ethel, taking theoffered chair. "Mrs. Coote always ordered us to stay on the other sideof the garden. She didn't say why, and we are never allowed to ask thatquestion."

  "And that has been ever since the day we heard such dreadful screamsfrom Harry and saw people running to the parsonage door and windows tofind out what ailed him," said Mrs. Keith. "We were told that Mr. Cootewas beating him, and it seems it was true?"

  "Yes, ma'am," replied Ethel, tears springing to her eyes. "Oh, I thoughthe was just killing him! and for next to nothing. He's such a littlefellow, and wanted to play when he was told to study his lesson. It washot and close in the house, you know, and looked so pleasant out ofdoors!"

  "Yes. The little fellow ought to have attended better to his work, it istrue, and taken his recreation when school hours were over," said Mrs.Keith, "but I cannot think he deserved treatment so severe as was givenhim, and if I were in your place, Ethel, I should write to my uncles andtell them all the facts. I think they would manage in some way toprevent a repetition of such severe punishment, especially for so slightan offence."

  "Yes, ma'am, I have been wanting to write to my uncles and tell themeverything about it, but I couldn't, because I have no pen, ink, orpaper, no postage stamp, no money to buy anything with, and even if Ihad I wouldn't be permitted to send a letter without Mr. or Mrs. Cootereading it first. And if they found I'd written all that to my unclesthey'd whip me for doing it and tear my letter up instead of sending it,or maybe put it in the fire."

  "Well, dear child, if you want to write such a letter, I will furnishyou now with all the materials needed, and mail it for you when it isdone; because your uncles ought to be informed of the cruel treatmentreceived by their nephew and nieces." Mrs. Keith rose as she spoke,opened her writing desk, took from it pen, paper, and stamped envelope,and made Ethel seat herself at the table.

  Ethel's eyes sparkled. She took from her pocket the envelope containingthe address of the Eldon brothers, and was about to seat herself beforethe desk; but a sudden thought seemed to strike her.

  "Oh, Mrs. Keith," she exclaimed, "I can't write fast, and I'm ever soafraid that Mrs. Coote will call us to come home before I could possiblyget the letter done!"

  "Well, then, suppose I write it at your dictation, and you sign it whenfinished," said the lady.

  Ethel gave a joyful assent, dictated quite rapidly, telling of Harry'ssore punishment for his slight fault, and the severity to which theywere all subjected more or less, and begging that they might be takenfrom the care of those who treated them so ill; adding that she wasalmost sure Harry would be a good boy if he were with someone who wouldbe kind and patient with him; but Mr. Coote was never that.

  "There, I believe that is all I need to say, Mrs. Keith," concluded thelittle girl.

  "Well, dear child," said Mrs. Keith, "suppose you sit down here and addin your own handwriting that this has been, written at your dictation,and sign your name to it."

  Ethel did so, Mrs. Keith directed an envelope, enclosed the letter init, and sent it by a trusty messenger directly to the post-office.

  "Oh," asked Ethel, "do you think, Mrs. Weston and Mrs. Keith, that myuncles can be angry with me for doing this?"

  "No, dear, I am very sure they would never be willing to have theirbrother's orphan children so ill treated," said Mrs. Weston, "and Ithink they will not let many days pass before they come to see aboutit."

  Mrs. Keith expressed the same opinion and the little girl gave a sigh ofrelief; then her face clouded.

  "But oh, I shall be so sorry to go away where I can never see you dearladies!" she exclaimed, looking lovingly into their faces, while tearsgathered in her eyes--"or little Mary again."

  "Don't worry about that, dear child," said Mrs. Keith kindly; "we arenot so very far from Philadelphia, and I think your uncles will let youcome sometimes to see us."

  That comforted Ethel and she grew quite cheerful.

  The Eldon brothers entered their office together the next morning and asusual found a pile of letters, brought by the early mail, awaiting them.

  "Ah, where does this come from, I wonder!" remarked Mr. George, takingup one directed in a delicate female hand.

  He broke the seal and glanced over the contents. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "apost-script signed by our little niece Ethel. The letter was written byher dictation, she says, because she cannot write very fast, and everyword in it is true. Dear, dear, what a wretch is that Coote!" Then heread the missive aloud to his brother.

  "The scoundrel! the unfeeling monster!" exclaimed Mr. Albert in hotindignation. "He shall not be allowed another opportunity to abuse thosepoor little ones. I'll go for them at once and have them safe in my ownhouse before night. I shall take them out of his clutches without amoment's delay." He drew out his watch as he spoke, and glancing at it,"There is barely more than time for me to catch the first train," hesaid, "but I need no preparation."

  "Except some money, I presume," said his brother, handing him a roll ofbank-bills which he had just taken from the safe.

  "Ah, yes! that is very essential!" he returned, pocketing them andtaking up his hat. "Good-by; you may look for my return this afternoonwith the four children."

  "Yes, I hope so," said his brother, "and in the meantime I shall do whatI can to prepare our wives to receive the poor little things and givethem a kind and cordial welcome."

  Ethel and her little brother and sisters had just finished their dinnerwhen the door bell rang and their Uncle Albert's voice was hear
d in thehall asking for them.

  Ethel's heart beat fast with mingled hope and fear. Had he come inresponse to her letter? and if so was it in anger toward her oppressors?Her eyes turned enquiringly upon the face of Mrs. Coote, where she readboth surprise and suppressed wrath.

  "Is this some of your doing?" she muttered menacingly; but before thefrightened child could reply the door opened and Mr. Coote put in hishead, saying:

  "Mr. Eldon is here, asking to see the children. Let them come right in.No help for it, Sarah," he added in a lower tone and with a look ofsuppressed anger and apprehension. "I can't say yet whether it's anytale-telling that's brought him; but if that's the case somebody'll haveto suffer for it." And he too looked menacingly at poor trembling littleEthel.

  "There then, go along all o'you," said Mrs. Coote, who had just finishedwiping their hands and faces, "and mind what you say and do, or you mayget yourselves into trouble."

  Then Ethel spoke up bravely, "Don't be afraid, Nan," for the little onelooked sadly frightened and ready to cry; "we needn't any of us beafraid of our own dear kind Uncle Albert," and with that they allhastened into his presence.

  He received them most affectionately, hugging and kissing them in turn.

  "I have come to take you home with me," he said, "and we will start justas soon as you and your luggage can be got ready. You may go and packall your belongings, for you shall never spend another night in thishouse."

  Then turning to Coote:

  "And you, sir, may be thankful that after your brutal treatment of mylittle nephew I allow you to escape with no greater punishment than theloss of the salary that is due you for the care--such care as it has beentoo! of these poor little helpless children--my deceased brother'sorphans. My blood boils with indignation when I think of it, and I feelthat it would be a satisfaction to thrash you within an inch of yourlife. But I have decided simply to take the children where it will beout of your power to torment and ill-use them as you have been doing,leaving your punishment to Him who has said: 'Ye shall not afflict anywidow or fatherless children. If thou afflict them in any wise, and theycry at all unto me, I will surely hear their cry; and my wrath shall waxhot and I will kill you with the sword.' I wonder you are not afraid ofGod's judgments lighting upon you, for in His Word He is called thedeliverer of the fatherless, their judge, their helper, and theirfather. And you who profess to be His minister ought to be wellacquainted with His Word."

  "And you who are only a layman, should not dare to so accuse and abuseme--one of the clergy!" exclaimed Coote wrathfully, yet paling visibly ashe spoke. "Pray, sir, what proof can you bring of your insultingaccusations? which I declare to be false, for I have--according topromise--treated these ill-behaved, rebellious children with all thelenity and fatherly kindness I should had they been my own offspring."

  The children were still lingering in the room listening in round-eyedwonder to the strange and excited colloquy between the two men.

  "Ethel, dear child," said her uncle turning to her, "do not fear tospeak out and tell me in the presence of this man how he has beaten andabused you all, particularly your brother."

  "You are going to take us away, uncle?" she asked, with a timid glanceat the wrathful countenance of Coote.

  "Yes, at once; so that he will never again have an opportunity toill-use any one of you."

  "He has been very cruel to us, uncle," Ethel said in reply; "to poorHarry most of all. I'm afraid he would have killed him that last time ifthe people hadn't come to the doors and windows and made him stop. PoorHarry could hardly walk for days afterward," she added with a burst ofsobs and tears.

  "Yes, uncle, he 'most killed me, and I've got some of the marks on meyet," said Harry, pulling up his coat-sleeve and displaying some markson his arm. "Guess he would have killed me if folks hadn't come andstopped him. But I'm going to pay him back well when I'm a big man. I'lljust thrash him till he can't stand."

  "I think you'll forget about the smart and be willing to forgive himbefore that," returned Mr. Eldon with a half smile, drawing the littlefellow to him and smoothing his hair caressingly.

  Coote was striding angrily to and fro across the floor, clenching hisfists, grinding his teeth, and scowling at the little group as thoughfairly aching to knock them all down.

  Mrs. Coote was not there; she had lingered but a moment in the hall,then, having heard the announcement of Mr. Eldon that he had come totake the children away, had hastened to their room and set to work withmuch energy and despatch to gather together and pack up all thatbelonged to them.

  "There now, my dears, go and get ready for your journey," said Mr.Eldon, releasing Harry from his embrace and smiling kindly upon allfour. "Gather up all your possessions--at least all that you care tokeep. No doubt Mrs. Coote will help you with the work, and as soon asyou are ready we will start for the station." Then noting the look ofapprehension on each young face, he said: "Harry and Nannette may aswell stay here with me; so many of you would only be in Mrs. Coote'sway, and their hats and coats can be put on here."

  "But they don't look so very well dressed, uncle," said Ethelhesitatingly; "and wouldn't you like them to have their best clotheson?"

  "Ah, yes; that is well thought of," he replied. "Well, get them readyfirst and send them down here to me; then follow as soon as you and thetrunk are ready."

  At that all four hurried obediently from the parlor and up to the roomin which most of their time had been passed since their coming to thehouse. Mrs. Coote was there, down on her knees, packing their trunk withgreat expedition. She turned her head and looked grimly at them as theyentered.

  "Somebody's been telling tales, I reckon," she remarked gruffly. "Well,it'll rid me of a good deal of care and bother. I shall breathe freerwhen you're gone, for you've been no end of trouble."

  "I'm sorry if we have, ma'am," said Ethel. "I've really tried to be goodand helpful."

  "Yes, you have, Ethel, and I've been fonder of you than I ever thoughtto be of any child," returned Mrs. Coote, her voice softening. "But I'vegot to give you up now, and there's no use fretting. There, children,I've laid out all your best clothes on the bed. Get into them as fast asyou can while I finish packing your trunk."

  They made haste to obey, Ethel and Blanche helping the younger two, andin a very short time they and their trunk were ready.

  In the meanwhile Mr. Eldon had settled with Mr. Coote in full for allthat was owing on the children's account; a carriage was waiting at thegate, and the moment they appeared for their journey, he rose, told themto say good-by, then took his leave, leading Nannette, while the otherthree followed.

  Mrs. Weston, Mrs. Keith, and little Mary were out on their own porch,watching with interest what was going on next door, fearing they wereabout to lose their little friends.

  "Oh," cried Blanche, "there are our friends who've been so good to usand whom we love dearly. Uncle Albert, mayn't we run over and saygood-by to them before we go?"

  "Yes, certainly," he said. "I will go too and thank them for helpingEthel to send me word that you were not well treated or happy here."

  It had been a hasty farewell, as it was near train time, and some tearswere shed, but Mr. Eldon tried to comfort them all with the hope thatthe separation need not be for so very long, inviting the ladies andlittle Mary to visit his nephew and nieces at his house, and promisingsome day to bring Ethel, Blanche, Harry, and Nannette to see them.