LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

that Martha had set down, she darted up the wide, old-fashioned staircase. At the first turn she paused.

      “Where is my room, aunty?” she inquired, looking back at her hostess.

      As she stood there on the great square landing, with one foot on the stair above, and the candle held high above her head, she looked so white and eerie, so like a small wraith, that Miss Priscilla could scarcely believe she was real, and indulged in a vague hope that the vision would disappear as suddenly as it had come.

      But Martha felt that it was her turn now, and she said:

      “Shall I make up the spare-chamber bed, ma’am?”

      “Yes,” said Miss Priscilla, catching gladly at a temporary solution of the problem; “take her there, and put her to bed. I’ll make no plans until morning.” And shutting her teeth together with a snap, Miss Priscilla went to her room and was seen no more that night.

      Miss Dorinda did likewise, and Martha said:

      “Now, if you’ll come with me, little miss, I’ll try to make you comfortable.”

      Ladybird, still holding her dog, followed Martha to the great spare bed-chamber.

      “Is this my room?” she said wonderingly, looking at the massive mahogany furniture and old-fashioned decorations.

      “It is for to-night, miss, whatever happens to-morrow.”

      “Oh, I like it,” said the child, contentedly; “only, it seems so big. But it’s very pleasant, and when my things come, I can stack them all away in these big bureaus and chests of drawers. But what a funny bed! It’s like a queen’s bed. I’ll play I’m a queen, and you be my lady in waiting, will you, Martha?”

      “Yes, miss,” said the good-natured Martha, smiling at the strange little girl, who had already won her heart. “And where’s your bag, miss, with your night-clothes?”

      “Why, do you know, I forgot it and left it on the train. I came alone from Boston, and when the man said ‘All out for Plainville,’ I just jumped out and forgot everything. But you can lend me a nightie, can’t you? and to-morrow I think my boxes will come.”

      So Martha provided her new charge from her own wardrobe; and the child laughed gleefully when, in a night-dress far too long for her, and a ruffled night-cap tied under her chin, she found herself ready to climb into the four-poster bed.

      There was a wide dimity ruffle all around the top, and a dimity valance below, and long dimity curtains all around. These were looped back at one side with huge rosettes, and with Martha’s assistance the little girl stepped on a chair, and so up on the high feather bed. As she sank down into it, and it nearly closed over her, she laughed merrily.

      “It is like drowning in the sea,” she said; “the billows are high on both sides of me. Where’s Cloppy, Martha?”

      “Here he is, miss. Shall I put him in the cellar?”

      “Cellar? No, indeed; put him at the foot of the bed, please; and I hope he won’t smother. Oh, how good these sheets smell! Why do they?”

      “That’s lavender, miss; we always keep it between the fresh linen.”

      “Well, it’s just lovely. Good night, Martha.”

      “Good night, miss,” and Martha took the candle and went away, and Ladybird was asleep in ten seconds.

      CHAPTER IV

      A FEW QUESTIONS

      The next morning Ladybird woke early, with a strange feeling of suffocation. The day was warm, and the dimity curtains, the feather bed, and the night-cap all combined to stifle a little girl who was fond of fresh air.

      She hopped out of bed and ran to the window, the extra length of Martha’s long night-dress tripping her feet and flapping against her hands.

      Throwing open the blinds, she saw that the window opened on a veranda roof, and swinging herself over the sill, she stood delightedly gazing at the spring beauty of Primrose Farm.

      She was soon joined by Cloppy, who had scrambled out of the feather nest and followed in his young mistress’s steps.

      “Hello, Cloppy-Dog,” she cried as she picked him up, “how do you like our new home? I think it is lovely. Let’s look in at these windows.”

      There were several along the veranda, each with closed blinds. Ladybird tried them all, but could not open any until she reached the last one. There the blinds flew open at her touch and disclosed an open window with a pair of the ever-recurring dimity curtains tied back with blue ribbons.

      Ladybird perched herself on the window-sill and surveyed the room.

      Opposite the window was a curtained bed like the one she had slept in, and as she looked, a night-capped face appeared at the opening and stared at the intruder.

      Except that the face between the window-curtains was young, and the face between the bed-curtains was old, it was almost like a reflection in a mirror.

      Ladybird smiled most engagingly and chanted:

      “Good morning, Aunt Dorinda; I’m sitting in your window.”

      And then, with the little dog still in her arms, she jumped down into the room.

      “I’ll just hop in beside you for a minute,” said she, approaching the bed, “’cause my feet are cold – though it’s a lovely warm morning. What time do you have breakfast?”

      As she spoke she snuggled herself, dog and all, into her aunt’s bed, and softly patted the old lady’s cheek.

      Miss Dorinda knew she ought to be stern, but it was impossible, with the little childish face framed in its big cap-ruffle looking up into her own, and she said:

      “About eight o’clock, dearie; are you hungry?”

      “Yes, ’m; I’m ’most starved. The train was late last night, and I didn’t get any supper.”

      “Why, you poor child! There, that’s the rising-bell. Run right back to your room and dress; the breakfast-bell will ring in just thirty minutes. Can you be ready?”

      “In thirty minutes? I should hope so!” said Ladybird, laughing.

      Gathering up her dog, she stepped through the window and ran along the veranda roof to her own room.

      Peeping in, she saw Martha staring in dismay at the empty bed.

      “Hello, Martha,” she cried gaily, “did you think I was lost? I’ve been calling on my aunt; it’s such a lovely morning for visiting, you know. But I’m as hungry as a bear, and now I think I’ll get dressed and go to breakfast.”

      She jumped into the room, and with Martha’s assistance her toilette was soon made; then she seized her dog and went dancing down-stairs.

      After wandering through several of the large rooms she came to the dining-room, where the breakfast-table was laid; seeing nothing to eat, she went on to the kitchen.

      Bridget looked at her with no kindly eye, for she resented any intrusion on the quiet of Primrose Hall as much as Miss Priscilla did.

      But when Ladybird said wistfully, “I’m very hungry,” the good-hearted old cook fell a victim at once to the irresistible charm of the strange child.

      “Are ye that, miss? And what would ye like now?”

      “Oh, anything! – I don’t care what; and if I go and sit at the table will you bring me something?”

      “I will indeed, miss. Run along, thin, and set at the place forninst the side-board.”

      And so that’s how it happened that when, a few minutes later, Miss Priscilla and Miss Dorinda came into the dining-room they found their guest ensconced at their table and apparently enjoying herself very much.

      “Good morning, aunties,” she said smilingly. “I ought to have waited for you, I know, but truly, I was so hungry I just couldn’t. And Bridget brought me such lovely things! I never had strawberries and cream

Скачать книгу