IV.
_A COURTSHIP._
"WILL you come to the beach now, Nellie?" said Carrie.
"Yes, if mamma has nothing more for me to do," said Nellie; and mammatelling her that there was nothing at present, they were soon ready andon their way; Daisy also being allowed to accompany them on promise ofbeing very, very good and obedient to Nellie.
Nellie, wise, steady little woman that she was, was always to betrusted to take care of the other children, and to keep them out ofmischief, so long as she gave her mind to it; and her mother had nofear that it would be otherwise now, after the lesson of last night.Poor Nellie! the sight of that black bump on Daisy's forehead wassufficient reminder in itself, even had she not formed such goodresolutions. _She_ felt it, I believe, more than Daisy did.
An unexpected pleasure awaited Nellie and Carrie when they reached thebeach, for there they met, not only the little Bradfords, whom they nowsaw frequently, but also Lily Norris and Belle Powers, who had come topass the day with their friends, Maggie and Bessie.
Daisy and Frankie Bradford, who were great cronies and allies, weresoon busily engaged in making sand-pies, and conveying them in theirlittle wagons to imaginary customers who were supposed to live upon therocks.
Nellie had brought her doll with her. This was a doll extraordinary,a doll well known and far famed. It had been presented to Nellie byold Mrs. Howard, as a reward for her kind and generous behavior to herlittle grand-daughter Gracie, at a time when the latter had falleninto trouble and disgrace at school. To the young residents of Newport,the chief claim to distinction of the Ransom family lay in the factthat in their midst resided this wonderful creation of art. Mr. andMrs. Ransom enjoyed the glorious privilege of being "the father andmother of the girl that has the doll." Nellie herself was consideredthe most enviable of mortals, while her brothers and sisters shareda kind of reflected glory. To meet Nellie when she had her treasureout for an airing was an event in the day; and frantic rushes weremade to windows or down to gates and palings when the announcement wasmade,--"The doll is coming!"
It was impossible that Nellie should not be gratified by all thisflattering homage to her darling, and she received such tributes with aproud but still generous satisfaction, for she would always take painsto walk slowly when she saw some eager eye fastened upon the doll,or carry it so as to afford the best view of all the beauties of itstoilet; and, choice and careful as she was of it, she was always readywhen she met any of her young friends to allow them to take and nurseit for a while.
Of late, however, even this doll had been neglected and put aside inthe press of work which Nellie had laid upon herself; and this was thefirst time in several days that she had appeared in public. So Nelliewas eagerly welcomed, partly on her own account, partly on that of herdaughter; and after the latter had been duly admired, and ah'ed andoh'ed over to the heart's content of her mamma and the spectators,she was intrusted to Belle's tender care for a while, Lily having thepromise of being allowed to take her afterwards.
Nellie was never a child who cared much for romping play or frolic;quiet games and amusements suited her much better; therefore herplaymates were rather surprised when, having seen her doll safe inBelle's keeping, she proposed a race down the length of the beach, tosee who could first reach a given rock she pointed out. For Nellie,like many another little child--ay, and grown person too--when theymean to turn over a new leaf, was now disposed to run into the oppositeextreme, and to strive to make up for lost time by taking an amount ofplay and exercise to which she was not accustomed at any time.
Maggie and Lily readily agreed to her proposal, though they were rathersurprised at it, as coming from her; but Bessie declined, not beingfond of a romp, and Carrie, too, chose to stay with Bessie and Belle.
Nellie, however, soon found that strength and breath gave way,unaccustomed as she had been for weeks past to a proper amount ofexercise; and she was forced to sit down upon a stone and watch Lilyand Maggie as they sped onwards towards the goal.
They flew like the wind, and it was hard to tell which was there thefirst, for they fairly ran against one another as they reached it,and, laughing and breathless, turned to look back for Nellie, whosmilingly nodded to them from the distance.
Meanwhile Bessie, Belle, and Carrie were amusing themselves morequietly.
"Do you think your mamma would let you come to our house thisafternoon?" said Bessie to Carrie. "Mamma said we might ask you."
"Oh, yes! I'm sure she would. She quite approves of your family,"answered Carrie.
"I should think she might," said Belle.
"Mamma thought we'd all like to have a good play together," saidBessie. "And, besides, we have some new things to show you, Carrie. Wehave some white mice that Willie Richards gave us; and they are just astame, as tame."
"Oh! they're too cunning for any thing," said Belle. "They hide in yourpocket, or up your sleeve, or in your bosom if you'll let them, and eatout of your fingers, and are not one bit afraid."
"How did you tame them so?" asked Carrie, who was extremely fond ofdumb pets of all kinds.
"We did not do it," said Bessie. "Willie Richards did it before he sentthem to us; but white mice can be tamed very easily. Harry says so."
"Gray mice can be tamed too," said Belle.
"Why, no!" said Carrie. "They always scamper away from you as fast asthey can go."
"Not always," said Belle, with the air of one who had good authorityfor her statement. "Not always, do they, Bessie? For there's a littlemouse lives in our parlor at the hotel in New York, and he's just astame as he can be, and he comes out every evening to be fed."
"And do you feed him?" asked Carrie.
"Yes," said Belle. "Every evening I bring a piece of bread or crackeror cake from the dinner table for him, and when papa and I come in theparlor he is always on the hearth waiting for us. Then papa sits downby the table, and the mousey runs up his leg and jumps on the table,and then he takes the crumbs I put down for him. Oh, he's so cunning,and his eyes are so bright! And he even lets me smooth his fur with myfinger."
"How did you make him so tame?" asked Carrie.
Belle colored and hesitated, looking down upon the doll in her arms,and seeming as if she would much rather not tell the story; but Carrie,who was not very quick to see where another's feelings were concerned,repeated her question.
"Well," said Belle, slowly at first, and then, as she became interestedin her own story, with more ease, "he used to run about the room, butwas not one bit tame, and papa told the waiter to set a trap for him.And the man did; and one morning when we went in the room the littlemouse was caught. And he looked so cunning and so funny, peepingthrough the bars of the trap, that I felt very sorry about him; and,when the man was going to take him away to drown him, I cried veryhard, and begged papa to let me keep him in the trap. And because Ifelt so badly papa said I might, but I must feed him, so he would notstarve; and he very 'spressly told me I must not lift the door of thetrap, for fear the mouse would run out. Papa thought I would soon growtired of him,--he said so afterwards; but I did not, and I grew veryattached to that mouse, and he to me. But--but"--Belle's voice falteredagain, and she looked ashamed--"but I disobeyed my papa, and one day Iopened the door of the trap a te-en-y little bit, just a very littlebit; but the mouse ran out just as quick, as quick, and scampered awayto the fireplace where his hole was."
"Did your papa scold you?" asked Carrie, as Belle paused to take breath.
"No," answered Belle, remorsefully, "he didn't _scold_ me, but helooked very sorry when I told him. He always looks sorry at me when Iam not good, but he never scolds me, and that makes me feel worse thanif he was ever so cross to me."
"Well, what about the mouse?" asked Carrie.
"That very evening I was sitting on papa's knee, talking to him,"continued Belle, "and what do you think? why, the first thing I saw wasthe mouse on the hearth looking right at me. I had a maccaroon, andpapa crumbled a little bit of it on the floor, and the mouse came andea
t it. Then he played about a little while; we kept very still, and atlast he ran away. But the next night, and every night after that, hecame; and at last one evening, first thing we knew, he jumped on papa'sfoot and ran up his leg; and now every evening he does that, and sitson the table till I feed him."
"How cunning!" said Carrie. "I wish I had one; but I'd rather have awhite mouse."
"The white mice are prettier, but then they are stupider than Belle'smouse," said Bessie. "They don't do much but eat and go to sleep. Idon't think they are so very interesting."
"There's Daisy crying again," said Carrie. "Daisy, what's the matternow?" raising her voice.
Daisy only cried the louder, and the three children ran forward towhere she sat upon the sand, the picture of woe; while Frankie,busily engaged in piling sand pies into his wagon, remained sublimelyindifferent to her distress. Nellie, Maggie, and Lily came running backalso to see what was the matter.
"What _are_ you crying for, Daisy?" asked Nellie. "Frankie, do you knowwhat is the matter with her?"
"He told me he'd marry me if I let him mix the pies," sobbed thedistressed Daisy; "and now he won't."
"Now, Daisy, you ought to be ashamed to say that," cried Frankie,stopping short with a pie in each hand, and looking with a muchaggrieved air at his little playmate. "Yes, I did promise to marry herif she'd let me make the pies," he continued, turning to Nellie, "andso I will; but I promised three other girls before her, and so I toldher she'd have to wait till they were all dead, and she wouldn't havepatience, but just went and cried about it. I can't help it if so manygirls want to marry me," added the young sultan, tenderly laying hissand pies in the wagon.
Daisy had ceased her cries to listen to Frankie's statement of thecase; but her spirits were so depressed at once more hearing thisindefinite postponement of her matrimonial prospects that she brokeforth into a fresh wail of despair.
"Oh, Daisy!" said Nellie, "what shall we do with you: you're growing tobe a real cry-baby."
"Yes," said Master Frankie, seeing his way at once to a peacefulsolution of his difficulties. "And I shall never, never marry acry-baby. You'd better hurry up and be good, Daisy."
At this terrible threat, Daisy's shrieks subsided into broken sobs;and Frankie, touched by the extreme desolation of her whole aspect,farther consoled her, by telling her if she would dry her eyes and begood, he would let her "make two mixes, and marry her besides." Atwhich condescension on the part of her chosen lord and master, Daisywas in another instant beaming with smiles, and thrusting her dimpledhands into the wet sand; and the older children left her and Frankie totheir play.
All but Bessie, that is, who lingered behind to give her brother alittle moral lecture.
For Bessie's sense of justice had been shocked by Frankie'sarrangements, and the hard bargain he had driven with the devotedDaisy, who upon all occasions submitted herself to his whims, andlet him rule her with a rod of iron. Moreover, Bessie considered hisgallantry very much at fault, and thought it quite necessary to speakher mind on the subject.
"Frankie," she said with gravity, "you are selfish to Daisy, I think.You ought to let her make half the pies."
"I'm letting her do two mixes," said Frankie; "and, besides, she said Ineedn't let her do any if I'd marry her. That's fair."
"No, it's not. It's not fair, nor polite either," said Bessie,reprovingly. "You oughtn't to make it a compliment for you to marryDaisy. It is a compliment to you."
This was a new view of the subject to Frankie, and, as he stood gazingat Daisy and considering it, Bessie added,--
"Anyhow, you ought to let her do half. You're not good to be soselfish."
Daisy meanwhile had been balancing in her own mind the comparativeadvantages of the present and the future good, and came to theconclusion that she had made a foolish choice, and that the mixing ofsand pies was more to be desired than the promise, whose fulfilmentseemed so far distant; and now, with a deprecating look at Frankie, shemade known this change in her sentiments.
"I b'lieve I'd rafer mix half the mud than be your wife, Frankie," shesaid. "I'll just 'scuse myself and do the pies."
"Oh! I'll let you do half," said Frankie, encouragingly, "and marry youtoo, Daisy. I really will."
But Daisy, before whom Bessie's words had also placed the matter in anew light, now felt the advantage of her position, and was disposedto make the most of it, as she found Frankie inclined to become moreyielding.
"I'll see about marrying you," she said coquettishly, "but I _will_ dohalf the pies."
"Yes, yes, you shall," replied Frankie, now extremely desirous tosecure the prize the moment there seemed to be a possibility of itsslipping through his fingers; "and you'll really marry me, won't you,Daisy?"
"Maybe so," said Daisy, a little victorious, as was only natural, atfinding the tables thus turned.
"Ah! not maybe, Daisy. Say you truly will, dear Daisy, darling Daisy.You shall mix all the pies, Daisy, and I'll be your horse, too."
"I'll tell you anofer time," said Daisy, much enjoying the new positionof affairs.
"Ah! no, Daisy," pleaded the now humble suitor: "if you'll promise now,I'll--I'll--Daisy, I'll give you my white mice."
Daisy plumped herself down upon the sand, and gazed at Frankie,astounded at the magnitude of this offer, in return for the promisewhich, in her secret soul, she was longing to give.
"Maybe your mamma won't let you give 'em away," she said at length; andthen, with relenting in her generous little heart, she added, "and Iwouldn't like to take 'em from you, Frankie: it's too much."
"Yes, yes, mamma would let me," said Frankie, eagerly. "Bessie has apair, and Maggie a pair, and I a pair; and mamma said that was toomany, and she won't mind one bit if I give you mine. And I don't carefor them at all, Daisy, they're such stupid things. I'd just as lievegive them to you."
"Well," said Daisy, shaking her curls at him, "then I'll promise; and Ionly want to mix half the pies, Frankie, I wouldn't do 'em all, oh! notfor any thing."
This amicable agreement being sealed with a kiss, and peace thoroughlyrestored, Bessie left the two little ones to their "mixes," and wentback to the others, whom she entertained with an account of Frankie'scomplete defeat and submission. They rather rejoiced at it, for the wayin which Frankie usually lorded it over the submissive Daisy did not atall agree with their ideas of propriety.
"But do you think Frankie really means to give the white mice toDaisy?" asked Nellie.
"Why, yes," answered Bessie, "he _promised_, you know."
"But," said Nellie, doubtfully, "I do not think mamma would like Daisyto have them."
"Oh! she needn't mind," said Maggie. "Our mamma did say she was sorryWillie Richards had sent three pair; and Frankie has not really caredfor his since the first day. They're too quiet for him. Daisy mightjust as well have them."
"But I don't know if mamma would care to have them in the house," saidNellie. "She is so afraid of mice."
"What, a grown-up lady afraid of white mice!" said Lily.
"Well, she's afraid of _real_ mice," said Nellie, "and I'm not sure shewouldn't be of white ones."
"Pooh! I don't believe she would be," said Carrie. "I wish we couldhave them."
"I shouldn't think your mother would mind _white_ mice," said Belle:"you can ask her."
"You're all to come to our house this afternoon, you know," saidMaggie, "and then you can see them; and bring Daisy too, Nellie: wewant her."
After a little more talk and play, the children separated, Nellie goinghome with her sisters, and promising to come over to Mrs. Bradford'shouse as early in the afternoon as possible.
"What makes you go home so soon?" asked Carrie, supposing that it wasthose "horrid lessons" which took Nellie away.
"I thought mamma might have something else she wanted me to do," saidNellie, "and we have been down on the beach a good while."
"What makes you do the housekeeping," asked Carrie,--"just to helpmamma, or because you like to?"
"Mamma asked me
to do it to help her," said Nellie, without a thoughtof her mother's real object in proposing the plan, "but I do like to doit, it is real fun."
"I'd like to do something to help mamma," said Carrie.
"Me too," put in Daisy.
"I think you both could do something to help her, if you chose," saidNellie, with a little hesitation; for she was a modest, rather shychild, who never thought it her place to correct or give advice even toher own brothers and sisters.
"How can I?" asked Carrie, and,--
"How could I?" mimicked Daisy, looking up at her sister as she trottedalong by her side.
"Well," said Nellie, "I think you, Carrie, could be more obedient tomamma."
"I'm sure I do mind mamma," said Carrie, indignantly. "I never do anything she tells me not to."
"No," said Nellie, "you never do the things she tells you youmust _not_ do, and you generally do what she says you _must_ do;but--but--perhaps you won't like me to say it, Carrie, but sometimesyou do things which mamma has not forbidden, but which we both feelpretty sure she would not like; and then, when she knows it, it makestrouble for her."
Carrie pouted a little, she could not deny Nellie's accusation, butstill she was not pleased.
"Pooh!" she said, "I don't mean that. I mean I want to do some verygreat help for her, something it would be nice to say I had done."
"You're not large enough for that yet," said Nellie, "and I don'tbelieve you could help her more than by being good all the time."
"Then why don't you be good all the time?" said Carrie, not at allpleased. "I shouldn't think it was a great help to mamma to let Daisyfall out of bed."
Nellie colored, but made no reply.
Not so Daisy, who at once took up arms in Nellie's defence. Seizingupon her hand, and holding it caressingly to her cheek, she said toCarrie,--
"Now don't you make my Nellie feel bad about it. That falling out ofbed wasn't any thing much; and my bump feels, oh! 'most well thismorning. I b'lieve it feels better'n it did before I bumped it. Nellie,what could I do to help mamma?"
"If you tried not to cry so often, Daisy, darling, it would help mamma.It worries her when you cry, and sometimes you cry for such very littlethings."
"Does she think a bear is eating me up when she hears me cry and can'tsee me?" asked Daisy, whose mind was greatly interested in thesequadrupeds.
"No," said Nellie, "'cause she knows there are no bears here to eatlittle girls; but it troubles her to hear you cry. Besides, you aregrowing too big to cry so much, and you don't want people to call you acry-baby, do you?"
"No, I don't," answered Daisy, emphatically, "'cause then Frankie won'tmarry me. And I don't want to t'ouble mamma, Nellie. But how can I helpcrying when I hurt myse'f?"
"Oh! you can cry when you hurt yourself," said Nellie, "but try not tocry for very little things; and we'll all see what we can do to helpher. I believe I have been selfish in reading and studying all the timelately, and not thinking much about other people, especially mamma,so I will give up my books for a while, and try to help her about thehouse; and Daisy will try not to cry so much; and--and Carrie will becareful not to do the things mamma would not like her to do; will younot, Carrie?"
Carrie made no answer; she was not mollified by Nellie's taking blameto herself for her own short-comings, but only resented the gentlereproof she had herself received. Perhaps one reason was that she feltshe deserved it.
But pet Daisy took hers in good part.
"I will," she said, clapping her hands, and looking as if tears werealways the farthest thing possible from her bright face, "I will try.I won't cry a bit if I can help it, but just laugh, and be good allthe time, unless I hurt myse'f, oh! very, very much, indeed. Nellie,"pausing in her capers with an air of deep consideration,--"but, Nellie,if somebody cut off my nose, I ought to cry, oughtn't I?"
"Oh, yes! certainly," laughed Nellie.
"And if a bear _did_ come, I could sc'eam very loud, couldn't I?"
"Yes, whenever that bear of yours comes, you can cry as loud as youplease," answered Nellie.
"Oh! he's not mine," said Daisy. "He's a black man's, I b'lieve. I'spect he's an old black Injin man's. There's mamma on the piazza, an'there's two ladies come to see her."