CHAPTER XIV.
As the war went on and Ethel heard frequent allusions among the olderpeople to its great expense and the rapid rise in the price of all thenecessaries of life, she felt an increasing desire to be able to supportherself, and her brother and sisters. Except to them she said nothing toany one of her relatives of that ardent wish, though constantlyrevolving plans in her mind and asking help of God to carry out some oneof them.
She was so young, however, that for several years praying, thinking, andtrying to learn every useful art that those about her could teach, wasall she could do.
Every summer she, Blanche, Harry, and Nannette had the great pleasure ofa visit to Mr. Donald Keith's; and to the ladies there Ethel opened herheart, earnestly asking advice as to her future course.
Both replied, "You are too young yet to go into any kind of business,and are doing the right thing in trying to learn all you can." That gaveher great encouragement, though she felt it hard to wait, and oftenwished she could grow up faster.
The Cootes had moved away in less than a year after the children weretaken from them, and another and very different man, with a lovely wifeand several children, had taken charge of the church and possession ofthe parsonage; all of which added very much to Ethel's enjoyment of hervisit to that neighborhood.
Both there and at home the war was ever the principal and most absorbingtopic of conversation; each victory for the National arms broughtjoy--alas! not unmingled with poignant regret, often almostheart-breaking sorrow for the slain--to each family. George and AlbertEldon were in many engagements, both were wounded at different times,yet they escaped without loss of life or limb. First one and then theother came home on a short furlough--for they had re-enlisted for thewar--were made much of by friends and relatives, their parents andsisters in particular, and wept over anew when at the expiration oftheir time of leave they went back to rejoin their regiment; for theybelonged to the same one.
Mrs. Keith or her mother occasionally wrote to Ethel. In March of 1865 aletter came, telling the young girl they would be in the city the nextday to get a sight of Mr. Rupert Keith--who had been at home for a time,a paroled prisoner, but was now returning to his regiment, having beenexchanged--and of his nephews, Percy Landreth and Stuart Ormsby, lads ofseventeen, who had just enlisted and were with their uncle on their wayto the seat of war--and inviting her to meet them at the station, as theywould like to see her and felt sure she would like to see the soldiers,who were ready to give their lives for the salvation of their country.
Ethel was delighted and easily obtained permission to go.
The troops dined in Philadelphia, and the Keith party had time for abrief interview with their relatives and friends with whom Ethel was.She was introduced to and shook hands with them. She was pleased withthe looks of both uncle and nephews, and their evident ardent devotionto the cause of the Union for whose defence they had enlisted.
She and others watched with tear-dimmed eyes as again the troops took uptheir line of march for the South, keeping step to the music of theband. Would they ever tread those streets again? or were they doomed todie on some battlefield, or starve and freeze in those filthyprison-pens of Andersonville, Belle Isle, and Libby? Ah, who could say?And when would this dreadful war be over?
The last soldier had disappeared from sight, and with a sigh Mrs. Keithturned to Ethel.
"We have a little shopping to do, my dear," she said; "so will have tobid you good-by unless you may go with us and care to do so."
"Thank you, ma'am, I think I must go home now, when I have done anerrand or two for Aunt Augusta and Cousin Adelaide," replied the younggirl. "But aunt told me to invite you ladies to go home with me todinner. Won't you?"
"No, my dear; we must finish our shopping and hurry home to our littlefolks, who are sure to be wanting mother and grandma. Take our thanks toyour aunt, and tell her we hope to see her at our house one of thesedays."
So the good-bys were said, and the two ladies walked away in onedirection and Ethel in another.
She visited several of the larger stores, making small purchases withwhich she had been entrusted, then turned into a side street and waspursuing her homeward way, when passing a drygoods retail store somelittle fancy articles in the window attracted her attention, and shewent in to look at them more closely and price them.
She was waited on by a middle-aged woman of very pleasing countenance,with whom she presently fell into conversation. There were ready-madearticles of women's and children's wear on the counter and in the showcase, and in the back part of the store was a sewing machine with apartly finished garment upon it.
"I see you have some very pretty aprons and other ready-made things forchildren," remarked Ethel, "and you make them yourself, I suppose?"glancing toward the machine as she spoke.
"Yes, miss, but I don't get much time for sewing since I have no one butmyself to tend the store; except when mother finds time now and then towait on a customer. That's not often, though, for the house-work and thechildren keep her busy pretty much all the time from daylight to dark."
"Then I should think it might pay you to have a young girl to wait oncustomers."
"Yes, miss, if I could get the right sort; but most young things aregiddy and thoughtless, some inclined to be saucy to customers, andothers not perfectly honest. I've had several that tried me in thoseways; then I had a really good, honest, and capable one; but she had toleave because her father and brothers went off to the war, the onlysister left at home took sick, and she--Susy, the one that was withme--had to go and help the poor mother to do the work and take care ofthe invalid."
A thought--a hope that here might be an opening for her--had struck Ethel,and timidly she put a few questions in regard to the work required, thetime that must be given to it, and the wages paid.
The woman answered her queries pleasantly and patiently, then asked herif she knew of someone who wanted such a situation and would be at alllikely to suit.
"No, I--I am not certain, but I think perhaps she might if--if her friendswon't object," stammered Ethel confusedly and with a vivid blush.
"Is it yourself, miss?" asked Mrs. Baker, the storekeeper, smilingkindly into the sweet, childish face. "I feel right sure we could getalong nicely together if you're willing to make the trial, though to besure you're rather young."
"Oh, I should like to," returned Ethel in eager delight. "I--I'm anorphan, and have a dear little brother and two little sisters, and Iwant to earn something to make a home for us all, so that we can betogether and be independent."
"That's right; independence is a grand thing. But if it's not animpertinent question, where and how do you live now?" asked Mrs. Baker,with a look of keen interest.
"We have two very kind uncles who give us homes--two of us in one houseand two in the other. We see each other every day, but that's not justthe same as living together."
"Well, but, dear child, you couldn't support four--yourself and twoothers."
"Not now, but maybe after a while, if--if I learn how to make money andwork very hard and don't spend any more than is really necessary."
"Your wish to do all that does you a deal of credit, but I'm afraid youcan hardly accomplish so much. My husband is gone to the war, and it'salmost more than I can do to make a living for mother and the childrenand myself. So you see I couldn't pay a big salary to a young thing likeyou or to anybody; especially till you, or whoever it was, had learnedsomething of the business."
"Oh, no, certainly not! But I'd willingly work for a little till I learnenough to be really worth more," returned Ethel half breathlessly; forshe seemed to see some hope--some prospect of an opportunity to begin herlong-desired effort to attain to the little home she and Blanche, Harryand Nannette, had been talking of for years.
"Well, I like your looks, and--perhaps we might try it," Mrs. Baker saidafter a moment's cogitation, "though I'm afraid maybe your folks may notbe quite willing."
Ethel colored at that. "I think I'll try it, if y
ou are willing," shesaid. "I think I could sell goods--wait on customers, I mean, makechange, and all that; and I know how to use the sewing machine--we haveone at my uncle's where I live, and I've learned on it. So I could helpwith that, if you want me to. Indeed, I'd try to make myself so usefulthat you wouldn't want to get rid of me," she added with a smile.
"I don't believe I should," returned Mrs. Baker pleasantly. "Well, youmay come and try it, if you like."
"Oh, thank you!" exclaimed Ethel, her eyes shining. "When shall Ibegin?"
"To-morrow, if you like; but if you're really decided to come we'dbetter settle about the terms. You'd expect to board and sleep here, Isuppose?"
"I suppose so, if you want me to," returned Ethel with a sigh, thinkingof Nannette's distress on learning that she was to be left alone atUncle Albert's.
"Yes, I'd rather you would," said Mrs. Baker. "I've a right nice littlebedroom for you opening into mine. Shall I show it to you?"
"Yes, if you please."
They went into the back part of the house, leaving the store in the careof Mrs. Ray, the mother of Mrs. Baker, up a narrow winding stairway andinto a small room opening on one side into the hall, on another into alarger bedroom. Everything looked neat and clean, but the furniture wasscant and plain, by no means an agreeable contrast to the room Ethel nowoccupied at her uncle's, or indeed with any room in his large andcommodious dwelling.
Ethel was conscious of some sinking of the heart at the thought of thenot pleasant exchange, but independence was sweet; still sweeter thethought of getting even one step nearer the realization of her dream ofthe little home of their own for herself, brother, and sisters.
And it was quite as good a room--as well furnished at least--as the onethey had occupied at Mr. Coote's.
Mrs. Baker could almost read the young girl's thoughts in her speakingcountenance.
"I dare say your room at your uncle's must be far better furnished andlarger than this," she remarked. "I wish for your sake I had a nicer oneto offer you."
"But one can't have everything in this world," returned Ethel, forcing asmile, "and I had rather be independent even in a small and poorlyfurnished ten by ten room than living on somebody else in a palace."
"That's a right feeling, I think," said Mrs. Baker. "I don't have anygreat amount of respect for folks that are willing to live at otherpeople's expense when they might take care of themselves."
With that she led the way down the stairs and into the store again,where they continued their talk till they came to a definitearrangement. It was that Ethel should come in a day or two and try howshe liked the business, and how well she could suit her employer. Shetold of the needlework she had been doing at odd moments for the pastyears since her return to the city, and of which she had now accumulateda large supply, and asked if Mrs. Baker would like to buy them of herfor sale in the store.
"I don't know," was the reply in a meditative tone. "Bring them along ifyou like and let me see them. I'm inclined to think your better planwould be to buy some muslin and make up the garments; then sell them onyour own account here in the store; you may do it and welcome."
"Oh, thank you! how kind you are!" exclaimed Ethel joyously. Then with apromise to be there early the next day, she bade good-by and hastened onher homeward way in a nutter of excitement. She was, oh, so glad that atlast a prospect was opening before her of being some day able to earnmoney for the support of herself, and her brother and sisters. And howdelightful that she could at once relieve her uncles of all expense forher own maintenance. They would surely be pleased that she was to becomeat once self-supporting; for only a day or two before this she hadoverheard some talk between her cousins Arabella and Olive in which theyspoke of the expense their father and uncle were at in supporting theirorphan cousins, pronouncing it a shame that it should be so now wheneverything was so costly in consequence of the war.
It had made Ethel feel very badly, and greatly increased her longingdesire to be able to earn her own living; and surely, taking all thisinto consideration, her uncles must approve of the effort she was aboutto make.
And it could hardly be worse to work in that store for so pleasant andkind a woman, as Mrs. Baker evidently was, than to be expected to waitat all times and seasons upon her aunt and cousins, meekly receiving andobeying all their orders, and bearing fault-finding and scolding withoutretort or remonstrance, no matter how unkind and unjust she might feelit to be. The only hard part would be the separation from her brotherand younger sisters, particularly Nannette, who was so accustomed tolean upon her and had been so long her special charge. The tears wouldfall as she thought of that.
But suddenly realizing that she had certainly been out much longer thanshe had expected, and would probably be assailed with a torrent ofreproaches on her arrival at home, she hastily wiped away her tears andquickened her steps.
Her reception on her arrival was even worse than she had feared.
"Mrs. Eldon wants you up there in her dressin' room right away, MissEthel," said the girl who opened the door and admitted her in answer toher ring.
"Very well," Ethel replied, and tripped lightly up the stairs, thoughher heart beat at the prospect before her.
She found her aunt lying idly on the sofa in her dressing gown andslippers, her hair in curl papers, and a paper-covered novel in herhand. "Well, miss," she exclaimed, "a pretty time you have been gone,leaving me lying here with nobody to read to me; for your cousins areall too busy of course, and not one of them has a voice so well suitedto allay the nervousness that drives me so nearly distracted."
"I'm sorry, Aunt Augusta," replied the young girl in a patient tone. "Idid not mean to stay so long, but I had some errands----"
"Oh, did you match that lace?"
"Yes, ma'am," Ethel answered, taking a little roll from her pocket."Here it is."
"Then make haste and carry it to the sewing room, and tell Miss Finch tobaste it in the neck and sleeves of that new black silk of mine. Thenleave your hat and sack in your own room and come here and read to me."
Ethel, though longing to go in search of Nannette, from whom she mustpart, in a large measure, so soon, also to consider and gather togetherwhat she would need to take with her to Mrs. Baker's, obeyed the orderwithout any show of reluctance, and spent the next hour in reading toher aunt.
By that time Mrs. Eldon had fallen asleep, perceiving which the younggirl stole silently from the room and went to her own.
But she had scarcely reached it and shut herself in when the door wasopened again by someone on the outside and Arabella put in her head,asking, "Where's that sewing silk I told you to get me? and the buttons?did you match them?"
"Yes; here they are," returned Ethel, taking them from her pocket andhanding them to her cousin.
"And why did you not bring them to me at once when you got home?"
"Aunt Augusta has kept me busy ever since."
"You are not in her room now, are you?" queried Arabella sarcastically.
"No, but I have just come from it, and I really forgot all about thepurchases for you, Arabella."
"Well let me advise you not to forget so readily another time," was thehaughty rejoinder, and Arabella hurried away; but Ethel heard her remarkto Minnie and Olive as she went into the room across the hall, "Thatgirl isn't worth her salt, and papa doing everything for her--feeding,clothing, and educating her. Really it would be a fine thing for him andus if she'd show spirit enough to go off and earn a living for herself."
"She's too young," said Olive, "papa wouldn't think of letting her doit; and after all she is quite useful to us--doing many a little job ofmending and fixing that we wouldn't care to do for ourselves."
"Well, yes, she does; but if she were not here we'd do them ourselvesand papa would be saved that much needless expense."
"Needless?"
"Yes; for she is now old enough to earn her own living. There's many ayounger girl than she doing that."
"Nonsense! you know well enough, that neither papa nor
Uncle Georgewould let her do it," Ethel heard her cousin Minnie exclaim; but then,with a sudden recollection that she was hearing what was perhaps notintended for her ear, she closed the door with tears of wounded feelingrolling down her cheeks, and began her work of gathering togetherarticles of clothing and other things she must take with her to her newabode.
She was glad that she had said positively she would go, for if heruncles should object she could tell them she had made a promise and mustbe allowed to keep it. Yet, oh, how she dreaded the telling!
At the six o'clock dinner she was very silent and a close observer mighthave detected traces of tears on her cheeks, but her uncle's thoughtswere upon the news of the day and some business transaction, and hefailed to notice anything peculiar about his little niece.
On leaving the table he went into the library and took up the eveningpaper. His wife and older daughters had gone to their own apartments todress for an evening party or concert, the younger children to theplayroom, and he was alone till Ethel stole quietly in after him.
He glanced up at her as she drew near his chair.
"What is it, Ethel, my dear? have you something to say to me?" he askedpleasantly, "something you want no one else to hear?" Then noticing howher color came and went, that her eyes were full of tears and she wastrembling visibly, "Why, what is it, child?" and he drew her near to hisside, put an arm about her as he spoke, and bade her not to be afraid totell him all that troubled her.
"Oh, uncle, you are so kind!" she sobbed, the tears now rolling down hercheeks; "I do love you so, but--but I can't bear to stay here and be suchan expense and burden to you when you have so many children of your ownto provide for and I ought to be earning my own living."
"Tut, tut, who has put all that nonsense into your head?" he asked in atone of mingled amusement and irritation. "I won't have it. I amentirely able to take care of my brother's little girl as well as myown. So stop crying, dry your eyes, and be as happy and merry as youcan, nor ever think that uncle grudges you your home, victuals, andclothes."
"Oh, I don't, I don't think that, dear Uncle Albert," she said, puttingher arms about his neck and kissing him with ardent affection; "but I'malmost a woman now and I want to earn my own living and, as soon as I'mable, to help my brother and sisters; and, and--oh, please don't be angrywith me, but I--I've made an engagement to be a clerk in a little storewith a very nice kind woman who will treat me just like one of thefamily and----"
"Is it possible, Ethel!" exclaimed Mr. Eldon, and his tone was full ofdispleasure. "Indeed I shall allow nothing of the kind. Let my brother'sdaughter go into a store? No, indeed! not while I have abundant means tosupport her as well as my own family."
"But, uncle, I've promised," sobbed Ethel, "and you know we must keepour promises."
"I dare say the woman will release you from the promise; at least for aconsideration, if not without. Ah, here comes your Uncle George," asjust then that gentleman entered the room.
"What do you think, brother? This foolish child has--without consultingyou or me, or anybody else for that matter--engaged herself as clerk to awoman keeping a little thread and needle store."
"Well, that's astounding news!" exclaimed Mr. George Eldon, seatinghimself and looking very hard, with something of a frown on his face, atEthel. "Come here, child, and tell me all about it."
Ethel obeyed, wiping her eyes and saying pleadingly, "Please, uncle,don't be angry with me. I--I can't bear to be such an expense to UncleAlbert now when I'm getting so old, and so----"
"Ay, yes, very big and very old," he returned, taking her hand anddrawing her to him; "so big and so old that it must cost a great deal tofeed and dress you. Uncle Albert ought to be very glad to get rid ofsuch an expense. And you are never of any use; don't do any errands forAunt Augusta or her daughters or make yourself useful in any way." Helooked so grave and spoke in such a serious tone that Ethel feltpuzzled.
"I have tried to be of use, uncle," she said humbly, "but I know theycan do very well without me. And I want to learn to make money, so thatI can help Blanche and Harry and Nannette; because after a while it willcost a great deal to clothe and feed and educate them; and you and UncleAlbert have your own children to take care of."
"Well, really! she's not so much of a baby as I had thought," he said,looking searchingly into her face with a grim sort of a smile on hisown. "How old are you, Ethel, my sage niece?"
"In my sixteenth year, uncle. So you see I'm not a baby but almost awoman."
"Ah, well! let us hear all about these plans and prospects."
Thus encouraged, Ethel went at once into all the particulars of herinterview with Mrs. Baker, what she had engaged to do, and what shehoped to accomplish. Her uncles listened attentively, and finding theycould not persuade her to a willing relinquishment of her project,finally consented to allow her to make the trial; stipulating howeverthat if she found the exertion too great, or for any reason was unhappyor uncomfortable in her new quarters, she should at once give up theeffort at self-support, and return to her present home; Uncle Albertassuring her of a warm welcome there.