On the third day there arrived a long letter from Jane in which she gave certain suggestions concerning the new member of the family, and ended: "Ma, she"s got a story, but don"t make her tell any more of it than she wants. She"s awful sensitive about it, and trust me, she"s all right!
She"s been through a lot. Just make her feel she"s got some folks that loves and trusts her."
Ma, wise beyond her generation and experience, said no more, and took the little new daughter into her heart. She took the opportunity to inform the village gossips that a friend of Jane"s had come to rest up and get a year"s country air, boarding with them; and so the amalgamation of Betty Stanhope into the life of the little town began.
The "job" proved to be for only part of the day, so that Betty was free most of the mornings to help around the house and take almost a daughter"s place. That she was a rare girl is proved by the way she entered into her new life. It was almost as if she had been born again, and entered into a new universe, so widely was her path diverging from everything which had been familiar in the old life. So deep had been her distress before she came into it that this new existence, despite its hard and unaccustomed work, seemed almost like heaven.
It is true there was much bad grammar and slang, but that did not trouble Betty. She had been brought up to speak correctly, and it was second nature to her, but no one had ever drummed it into her what a crime against culture an illiterate way of speaking could be. She never got into the way of speaking that way herself, but it seemed a part of these people she had come to know and admire so thoroughly, as much as for a rose to have thorns, and so she did not mind it. Her other world had been so all-wrong for years that the hardships of this one were nothing. She watched them patch and sacrifice cheerfully to buy their few little plain coa.r.s.e new things. She marveled at their sweetness and content, where those of her world would have thought they could not exist under the circ.u.mstances.
She learned to make that good stew with carrots and celery and parsley and potatoes and the smallest possible amount of meat, that had tasted so delicious the night she arrived. She learned the charms of the common little bean, and was proud indeed the day she set upon the table a luscious pan of her own baking, rich and sweet and brown with their coating of mola.s.ses well baked through them. She even learned to make bread and never let any one guess that she had always supposed it something mysterious.
During the week that Nellie was preparing to go to the city, Betty had lessons in sewing. Nellie would bring down an old garment, so faded and worn that it would seem only fit for the rag-bag. She would rip and wash, dye with a mysterious little package of stuff, press, and behold, there would come forth pretty breadths of cloth, blue or brown or green, or whatever color was desired. It seemed like magic. And then a box of paper-patterns would be brought out, and the whole evening would be spent in contriving how to get out a dress, with the help of tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs or sleeves of another material. Betty would watch and gradually try to help, but she found there were so many strange things to be considered.
There, for instance, was the up and down of a thing and the right and wrong of it. It was exactly like life. And one had to plan not to have both sleeves for one arm, and to have the nap of the goods running down always. It was as complicated as learning a new language. But at the end of the week there came forth two pretty dresses and a blouse. Betty, as she sat sewing plain seams and trying to help all she could, kept thinking of the many beautiful frocks she had thrown aside in the years gone by, and of the rich store of pretty things that she had left when she fled. If only Nellie and Jane and little Emily could have them! Ah, and if only she herself might have them now! How she needed them! For a girl who had always had all she wanted it was a great change to get along with this one coa.r.s.e serge and ap.r.o.ns.
But the sewing and other work had not occupied them so fully that they had not had time to introduce Betty into their little world. The very next evening after she arrived she had been taken to that wonderful church entertainment that the girls had told her about on the way from the station, and there she had met the minister"s wife and been invited to her Sabbath school cla.s.s.
Betty would not have thought of going if Nellie and her mother had not insisted. In fact, she shrank unspeakably from going out into the little village world. But it was plain that this was expected of her, and if she remained here she must do as they wanted her to do. It was the least return she could make to these kind people.
The question of whether or not she should remain began to come to her insistently now. The children clamored every day for her to bind herself for the winter, and Jane"s mother had made her most welcome. She saw that they really wanted her; why should she not stay? And yet it did seem queer to arrange deliberately to spend a whole year in a poor uncultured family. Still, where could she go and hope to remain unknown if she attempted to get back into her own cla.s.s? It was impossible. Her mother had just the one elderly cousin whom she had always secretly looked to to help her in any time of need, but his failing her and sending that telegram without even a good wish in it, just at the last minute, too, made her feel it was of no use to appeal to him. Besides, that was the first place her stepmother would seek for her. She had many good society friends, but none who would stand by her in trouble. No one with whom she had ever been intimate enough to confide in. She had been kept strangely alone in her little world after all, hedged in by servants everywhere. And now that she was suddenly on her own responsibility, she felt a great timidity in taking any step alone.
Sometimes at night when she thought what she had done she was so frightened that her heart would beat wildly as if she were running away from them all yet. It was like a nightmare that pursued her.
Mrs. Hathaway had sent for her and made arrangements for her to begin her work with the little Elise the following week when the present governess should leave, and Betty felt that this might prove a very pleasant way to earn her living. The Hathaways lived in a great brick house away back from the street in grounds that occupied what in the city would have been a whole block. There was a high hedge about the place so that one could not see the road, and there were flower-beds, a great fountain, and a rustic summerhouse. Betty did not see why days pa.s.sed in such a pleasant place would not be delightful in summertime.
She was not altogether sure whether she would like to have to be a sort of servant in the house--and of course these cold fall days she would have to be much in the house--but the nursery had a big fireplace in it, a long chest under the window where toys were kept, and many comfortable chairs. That ought to be pleasant, too. Besides, she was not just out looking for pleasant things on this trip. She was trying to get away from unbearable ones, and she ought to be very thankful indeed to have fallen on such comfort as she had.
There was another element in the Carson home that drew her strongly, although she was shy about even thinking of it, and that was the frank, outspoken Christianity. "Ma" tempered all her talk with it, adjusted all her life to G.o.d and what He would think about her actions, spoke constantly of what was right and wrong. Betty had never lived in an atmosphere where right and wrong mattered. Something sweet and pure like an instinct in her own soul had held her always from many of the ways of those about her, perhaps the spirit of her sweet mother allowed to be one of those who "bear them up, lest at any time they dash their feet against a stone." Or it might have been some memory of the teachings of her father, whom she adored, and who in his last days often talked with her alone about how he and her own mother would want her to live. But now, safe and quiet in this shelter of a real home, poor though it was, the G.o.d-instinct stirred within her, caused her to wonder what He was, why she was alive, and if He cared? One could not live with Mrs. Carson without thinking something about her G.o.d, for He was an ever-present help in all her times of need, and she never hesitated to give G.o.d the glory for all she had achieved, and for all the blessings she had received.
The very first Sabbath in the little white church stirred still deeper her awakening interest in spiritual things. The minister"s wife was a sweet-faced woman who called her "my dear" and invited her to come and see her, and when she began to teach the lesson Betty found to her amazement that it was interesting. She spoke of G.o.d in much the same familiar way that "Ma" had done, only with a gentler refinement, and made the girls very sure that whatever anybody else believed, Mrs.
Thornley was a very intimate friend of Jesus Christ. Betty loved her at once, but so shy was she that the minister"s wife never dreamed it, and remarked to her husband Sunday night after church, when they were having their little, quiet Sabbath talk together, that she was afraid she was going to have a hard time winning that little new girl that had come to live with Mrs. Carson.
"Somehow I can"t get away from the thought that she comes from aristocracy somewhere," she added. "It"s the way she turns her head, or lifts her eyes or the quiet a.s.surance with which she answers. And she smiles, Charles, never grins like the rest. She is delicious, but somehow I find myself wondering if I have remembered to black my shoes and whether my hat is on straight, when she looks at me."
"Well, maybe she"s the daughter of some black sheep who has gone down a peg, and our Father has sent her here for you to help her back again,"
said her husband with an adorable look at his helper. "If anyone can do it you can."
"I"m not so sure," she said, shaking her head. "She maybe doesn"t need me. She has Mrs. Carson, remember, and she is a host in herself. If anybody can lead her to Christ she can, plain as she is."
"Undoubtedly you were meant to help, too, dear, or she would not have been sent to you."
His wife smiled brilliantly a look of thorough understanding: "Oh, I know. I"m not going to shirk any but I wish I knew more about her. She is so sad and quiet, I can"t seem to get at her."
Even at that moment Betty lay in her little cot bed under the roof thinking about the minister"s wife and what she had said about Christ being always near, ready to show what to do, if one had the listening heart and the ready spirit. Would Christ tell her what to do, she wondered, now right here, if she were to ask him? Would He show her whether to stay in this place or seek further to hide herself from the world? Would He show her how to earn her living and make her life right and sweet as it ought to be.
Then she closed her eyes and whispered softly under the sheltering bedclothes, "O Christ, if you are here, please show me somehow and teach me to understand."
CHAPTER IX
WHEN Betty had been in Tinsdale about a month it was discovered that she could play the piano. It happened on a rainy Sunday in Sunday school, and the regular pianist was late. The superintendent looked about helplessly and asked if there was anybody present who could play, although he knew the musical ability of everybody in the village. The minister"s wife had already pleaded a cut finger which was well wrapped up in a bandage, and he was about to ask some one to start the tune without the piano when Mrs. Thornton leaned over with a sudden inspiration to Betty and asked:
"My dear, you couldn"t play for us, could you?"
Betty smiled a.s.sent, and without any ado went to the instrument, not realizing until after she had done so that it would have been better policy for her to have remained as much in the background as possible, and not to have shown any accomplishments lest people should suspect her position. However, she was too new at acting a part to always think of these little things, and she played the hymns so well that they gathered about her after the hour was over and openly rejoiced that there was another pianist in town. The leader of Christian Endeavor asked her to play in their meeting sometimes, and Betty found herself quite popular.
The tallest girl in their cla.s.s, who had not noticed her before, smiled at her and patronized her after she came back from playing the first hymn, and asked her where she learned to play so well.
"Oh, I used to take lessons before my father died," she said, realizing that she must be careful.
Emily and Bob came home in high feather and told their mother, who had not been able to get out that morning, and she beamed on Betty with as warm a smile as if she had been her own daughter:
"Now, ain"t that great!" she said, and her voice sounded boyish just like Jane"s. "Why, we"ll have to get a pianna. I heard you could get "em cheap in the cities sometimes--old-fashioned ones, you know. I heard they have so many old-fashioned ones that they have to burn "em to get rid of "em, and they even give "em away sometimes. I wonder, could we find out and get hold of one?"
"I guess "twould cost too much to get it here," said Bob practically.
"My! I wisht we had one. Say, Lizzie, "f we had a pianna would you show me how to read notes?"
"Of course," said Betty.
"Well, we"ll get one somehow! We always do when we need anything awfully. Look at the bathtub! Good-night! I"m goin" to earn one myself!"
declared Bob.
"Mrs. Crosby"s gotta get a new one. P"raps she"ll sell us her old one cheap."
That was the way the music idea started, and nothing else was talked of at the table for days but how to get a piano. Then one day Emily came rushing home from school all out of breath, her eyes as bright as stars, and her cheeks like roses. "Mrs. Barlow came to our school to-day and talked to the teacher, and I heard her say she was going away for the winter. She"s going to store her goods in the Service Company barn, but she wants to get somebody to take care of her piano. I stepped right up and told her my mother was looking for a piano, and we"d be real careful of it, and she"s just delighted; and--it"s coming to-morrow morning at nine o"clock! The man"s going to bring it!"
She gasped it out so incoherently that they had to make her tell it over twice to get any sense out of it; but when Bob finally understood he caught his little sister in his arms and hugged her with a big smacking kiss:
"You sure are a little peach, Em"ly!" he shouted. "You"re a pippin of the pippins! I didn"t know you had that much nerve, you kid, you! I sure am proud of you! My! Think of havin" a pianna! Say, Betty, I can play the base of chopsticks now!"
The next evening when Betty got home from the Hathaways there was the piano standing in the big s.p.a.ce opposite the windows in the dining-room.
Ma had elected to have it there rather than in the front room, because it might often be too cold in the front room for the children to practice, and besides it wouldn"t be good for the piano. So the piano became a beloved member of the family, and Betty began to give instructions in music, wondering at herself that she knew how, for her own music had been most desultory, and n.o.body had ever cared whether she practiced or not. She had been allowed to ramble among the great masters for the most part unconducted, with the meagerest technique, and her own interpretation. She could read well and her sense of time and rhythm were natural, else she would have made worse work of it than she did.
But she forthwith set herself to practicing, realizing that it might yet stand her in good stead since she had to earn her living.
Little Emily and Bob stood one on either side and watched her as she played, with wondering admiration, and when Betty went to help their mother Bob would sit down and try to imitate what she had done. Failing, he would fall headlong into the inevitable chopsticks, beating it out with the air of a master.
It was the piano that brought to Betty"s realization the first real meaning of the Sabbath day. Bob came down early and went at the piano as usual banging out chopsticks, and a one-fingered arrangement of "The Long, Long Trail," while his mother was getting breakfast. Betty was making the coffee, proud of the fact that she had learned how. But Bob had accomplished only a brief hint of his regular program when the music stopped suddenly and Betty glanced through the kitchen door to see Ma standing with her hand on her son"s shoulder and a look on her face she had not seen before: It was quite gentle, but it was decided:
"No, Bob! We won"t have that kinda music on Sunday," she said. "This is G.o.d"s day, an" we"ll have all we can rightly do to keep it holy without luggin" in week-day music to make us forget it. You just get t" work an"
learn "Safely Through Another Week," an" if you can"t play it right you get Lizzie to teach you."
Bob pouted:
"There ain"t nothin" wrong with chopsticks, Ma. "Tain"t got words to it."
"Don"t make any diffrence. It b"longs to weekdays an" fun, an" anyhow it makes you think of other things, an" you can"t keep your mind on G.o.d.
That"s what Sunday was made fer, to kinda tone us up to G.o.d, so"s we won"t get so far away in the week that we won"t be any kind of ready for heaven some time. An" anyhow, "tisn"t seemly. You better go learn your Golden Text, Bob. The minister"ll be disappointed if you don"t have it fine."
Betty stood by the window thoughtfully looking out. Was that what Sunday was made for, or was it only a quaint idea of this original woman? She wished she knew. Perhaps some time she would know the minister"s wife well enough to ask. She would have liked to ask Ma more about it, but somehow felt shy. But Ma herself was started now, and when she came back to the kitchen, as if she felt some explanation was due the new inmate of the family, she said:
"I don"t know how you feel about it. I know city folks don"t always hold to the old ways. But it always seemed to me G.o.d meant us to stick to Sunday, and make it diff"rent from other days. I never would let my children go visitin", nor play ball an" we always tried to have something good for supper fixed the night before. I heard somebody say a long time ago that it says somewhere in the Bible that Sunday was meant to be a sign forever between G.o.d and folks. The ones that keeps it are his"n, an" them as don"t aren"t. Anyhow, that"s the only day we have got to kinda find out what"s wanted of us. You wouldn"t mind just playin"