CHAPTER IX
LOUISE
"I must go home," said Louise, with a little sigh at having to end themost pleasant visit she ever remembered. The two little girls hadfinished the lunch, and had played happily with "Lady Amy." Mrs. Scotthad left them quite by themselves, and not even the small cousins hadcome near the sitting-room.
As Louise spoke she took off the blue velvet cap, which she had wornall the afternoon, and began to untie the hair ribbon.
"Oh, Louise! Don't take off that hair ribbon. I gave it to you. It's apresent," exclaimed Faith.
Louise shook her head. "Father won't let me keep it," she answered."He wouldn't like it if he knew that I had eaten anything in thishouse. He is always telling me that if people offer to give meanything I must never, never take it."
Before Faith could speak Aunt Prissy came into the room.
"Tell your father I will come in and pay him for Faith's shoesto-morrow, Louise," she said pleasantly, "and you must come and seeFaith again."
"Yes'm. Thank you," responded Louise shyly, and nodding to Faith witha look of smiling understanding, the crippled child made her wayquickly from the room.
"Aunt Prissy, I like Louise Trent. I don't believe she is amischievous girl. Just think, she never had a doll in her life! Andher father won't let her take presents!" Faith had so much to say thatshe talked very rapidly.
"I see," responded her aunt, taking up the rumpled hair ribbon whichLouise had refused. "I am glad you were so kind to the poor child,"she added, smiling down at her little niece. "Tell me all you canabout Louise. Perhaps there will be some way to make her lifehappier."
So Faith told her aunt that Louise could not read. That she had neverbefore tasted fruit cake, and that she had no playmates, and had neverhad a present. "Why do you suppose she came to see me, Aunt Prissy?"she concluded.
"I cannot imagine. Unless it was because you are a stranger," repliedAunt Prissy. "I have an idea that I can arrange with Mr. Trent so thathe will be willing for me to make Louise a dress, and get for her thethings she ought to have. For the shoemaker is no poorer than most ofhis neighbors. How would you like to teach Louise to read?"
"I'd like to! Oh, Aunt Prissy, tell me your plan!" responded Faitheagerly.
"Wait until I am sure it is a good plan, Faithie dear," her auntreplied. "I'll go down and see Mr. Trent to-morrow. I blame myselfthat I have not tried to be of use to that child."
"May I go with you?" urged Faith.
"Why, yes. You can visit Louise while I talk with her father, since heasked you to come."
"Has the Witch gone?" called Donald, running into the room. "Didn'tyou know that all the children call the Trent girl a witch?" he askedhis mother.
"No, Donald. But if they do they ought to be ashamed. She is a littlegirl without any mother to care for her. And now she is your cousin'sfriend, and we hope to see her here often. And you must always bepolite and kind to her," replied Mrs. Scott.
Donald looked a little doubtful and puzzled.
"You ought to be more kind to her than to any other child, because sheis lame," said Faith.
"All right. But what is a 'witch,' anyway?" responded Donald.
"It is a wicked word," answered his mother briefly. "See that you donot use it again."
Faith's thoughts were now so filled with Louise that she nearly losther interest in the new dresses and shoes, and was eager for the nextday to come so that she could again see her new friend.
Faith had been taught to sew neatly, and she wondered if she could nothelp make Louise a dress. "And perhaps Aunt Prissy will teach her howto make cake," she thought; for never to taste of cake seemed to Faithto be a real misfortune. For the first night since her arrival at heraunt's home Faith went to sleep without a homesick longing for thecabin in the Wilderness, and awoke the next morning thinking about allthat could be done for the friendless little girl who could not accepta present.
"We will go to Mr. Trent's as soon as our morning work is finished,"said Aunt Prissy, "and you shall wear your new shoes and cap. And Ihave a blue cape which I made for you before you came. The morning ischilly. You had best wear that."
"I don't look like Faith Carew, I am so fine," laughed the littlegirl, looking down at her shoes, and touching the soft cloth of thepretty blue cape.
As they walked along Faith told Aunt Prissy of her plans to teachLouise to sew, as well as to read. "And perhaps you'll show her how tomake cake! Will you, Aunt Prissy?"
"Of course I will, if I can get the chance," replied her aunt.
The shoemaker greeted them pleasantly. Before Mrs. Scott could sayanything of her errand he began to apologize for his daughter's visit.
"She slipped off without my knowing it. It shan't happen again," hesaid.
"But Faith will be very sorry if it doesn't happen again," repliedAunt Prissy. "Can she not run in and see Louise while I settle withyou for the shoes?"
The shoemaker looked at her sharply for a moment, and then motionedFaith to follow him, leading the way across the shop toward a door onthe further side of the room. The shop occupied the front room of theshoemaker's house. The two back rooms, with the chambers above, waswhere Louise and her father made their home.
Mr. Trent opened the door and said: "You'll find her in there," andFaith stepped into the queerest room that she had ever seen, and thedoor closed behind her. Louise was standing, half-hidden by a clumsywooden chair. The shawl was still pinned about her shoulders.
"This ain't much like your aunt's house, is it? I guess you won't everwant to come again. And my father says I can't ever go to see youagain. He says I don't look fit," said Louise.
But Faith's eyes had brightened, and she was looking at the furtherside of the room and smiling with delight. "Oh, Louise! Why didn't youtell me that you had a gray kitten? And it looks just like 'Bounce,'"and in a moment she had picked up the pretty kitten, and was sittingbeside Louise on a roughly made wooden seat, telling her of her ownkitten, while Louise eagerly described the cleverness of her own pet.
"What's its name?" asked Faith.
"Just 'kitten,'" answered Louise, as if surprised at the question.
"But it must have a real name," insisted Faith, and it was finallydecided that it should be named "Jump," the nearest approach to thename of Faith's kitten that they could imagine.
The floor of the room was rough and uneven, and not very clean. Therewas a table, the big chair and the wooden seat. Although the morningwas chilly there was no fire in the fireplace, although there was apile of wood in one corner. There was but one window, which lookedtoward the lake.
"Come out in the kitchen, where it's warm," suggested Louise, after afew moments, and Faith was glad to follow her.
"Don't you want to try on my new cape?" asked Faith, as they reachedthe kitchen, a much pleasanter room than the one they had left.
Louise shook her head. "I daresn't," she replied. "Father may come in.And he'd take my head off."
"You are coming to see me, Louise. Aunt Prissy is talking to yourfather about it now," said Faith; but Louise was not to be convinced.
"He won't let me. You'll see," she answered mournfully. "_I_ know.He'll think your aunt is 'Charity.' Why, he won't make shoes any morefor the minister because his wife brought me a dress; and I didn'twear the dress, either."
But there was a surprise in store for Louise, for when Mrs. Scott andMr. Trent entered the kitchen the shoemaker was smiling; and it seemedto Faith that he stood more erect, and did not look so much like thepicture of the orang-outang.
"Louise, Mrs. Scott and I have been making a bargain," he said. "I amgoing to make shoes for her boys, and she is going to make dresses formy girl. Exchange work; I believe that's right, isn't it, ma'am?" andhe turned to Mrs. Scott with a little bow.
"Yes, it is quite right. And I'll send you the bill for materials,"said Aunt Prissy.
"Of course. Well, Louise, I warrant you're old enough to have properdresses. And Mrs. Scott will take you home to stay with her until
youare all fixed up as fine as this little maid," and the shoemakernodded to Faith.
"Do you mean I'm to stay up there?" asked Louise, pointing in thedirection of the Scotts' house. "I can't. Who'd take care of you,father?"
Mr. Trent seemed to stand very straight indeed as Louise spoke, andFaith was ashamed that she had ever thought he resembled the uglypicture in her mother's book.
"She's a good child," he said as if whispering to himself; but heeasily convinced Louise that, for a few days, he could manage to takecare of himself; and at last Louise, happy and excited over thischange in her fortunes, hobbled off beside Mrs. Scott and Faith, whileher father stood in the shop doorway looking after them.
It was a very differently dressed little daughter who returned to himat the end of the following week. She wore a neat brown wool dress,with a collar and cuffs of scarlet cloth, a cape of brown, and a capof brown with a scarlet wing on one side. These, with her well-made,well-fitting shoes, made Louise a very trim little figure in spite ofher lameness. Her hair, well brushed and neatly braided, was tiedback with a scarlet ribbon. A bundle containing underwear, aprons,handkerchiefs, and hair ribbons of various colors, as well as a stoutcotton dress for Louise to wear indoors, arrived at the shoemaker'shouse with the little girl.
Her father looked at her in amazement. "Why, Flibbertigibbet, you area pretty girl," he declared, and was even more amazed at the gay laughwith which Louise answered him.
"I've learned a lot of things, father! I can make a cake, truly I can.And I'm learning to read. I'm so glad Faith Carew is going to live inTiconderoga. Aren't you, father?"
Mr. Trent looked at his daughter again, and answered slowly: "Why,yes, Flibbertigibbet, I believe I am."