Page 1 of What Katy Did Next




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  She paid a visit to the little garden.FRONTISPIECE.]

  WHAT KATY DID NEXT

  BY

  SUSAN COOLIDGE

  This Story is Dedicated

  TO

  THE MANY LITTLE GIRLS

  (SOME OF THEM GROWN TO BE GREAT GIRLS NOW),

  _Who, during the last twelve years, have begged that somethingmore might be told them about KATY CARR, and what she did afterleaving school._

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER

  I. AN UNEXPECTED GUEST

  II. AN INVITATION

  III. ROSE AND ROSEBUD

  IV. ON THE "SPARTACUS"

  V. STORY-BOOK ENGLAND

  VI. ACROSS THE CHANNEL

  VII. THE PENSION SUISSE

  VIII. ON THE TRACK OF ULYSSES

  IX. A ROMAN HOLIDAY

  X. CLEAR SHINING AFTER RAIN

  XI. NEXT

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  SHE PAID A VISIT TO THE LITTLE GARDEN

  "SHE WAS HAVING THE MEASLES ON THEBACK SHELF OF THE CLOSET, YOU KNOW"

  KATY WAS FEEDING GRETCHEN OUT OF A BIGBOWL FULL OF BREAD AND MILK

  AMY WAS LEFT IN PEACE WITH HER FAWN

  CHAPTER I.

  AN UNEXPECTED GUEST.

  The September sun was glinting cheerfully into a pretty bedroomfurnished with blue. It danced on the glossy hair and bright eyes of twogirls, who sat together hemming ruffles for a white muslin dress. Thehalf-finished skirt of the dress lay on the bed; and as each crispruffle was completed, the girls added it to the snowy heap, which lookedlike a drift of transparent clouds or a pile of foamy white-of-eggbeaten stiff enough to stand alone.

  These girls were Clover and Elsie Carr, and it was Clover's firstevening dress for which they were hemming ruffles. It was nearly twoyears since a certain visit made by Johnnie to Inches Mills, of whichsome of you have read in "Nine Little Goslings;" and more than threesince Clover and Katy had returned home from the boarding-school atHillsover.

  Clover was now eighteen. She was a very small Clover still, but it wouldhave been hard to find anywhere a prettier little maiden than she hadgrown to be. Her skin was so exquisitely fair that her arms and wristsand shoulders, which were round and dimpled like a baby's, seemed cutout of daisies or white rose leaves. Her thick, brown hair waved andcoiled gracefully about her head. Her smile was peculiarly sweet; andthe eyes, always Clover's chief beauty, had still that pathetic lookwhich made them irresistible to tender-hearted people.

  Elsie, who adored Clover, considered her as beautiful as girls inbooks, and was proud to be permitted to hem ruffles for the dress inwhich she was to burst upon the world. Though, as for that, not much"bursting" was possible in Burnet, where tea-parties of a middle-ageddescription, and now and then a mild little dance, represented "gayety"and "society." Girls "came out" very much, as the sun comes out in themorning,--by slow degrees and gradual approaches, with no particularone moment which could be fixed upon as having been the crisis of thejoyful event.

  "There," said Elsie, adding another ruffle to the pile on thebed,--"there's the fifth done. It's going to be ever so pretty, I think.I'm glad you had it all white; it's a great deal nicer."

  "Cecy wanted me to have a blue bodice and sash," said Clover, "but Iwouldn't. Then she tried to persuade me to get a long spray of pinkroses for the skirt."

  "I'm so glad you didn't! Cecy was always crazy about pink roses. I onlywonder she didn't wear them when she was married!"

  Yes; the excellent Cecy, who at thirteen had announced her intention todevote her whole life to teaching Sunday School, visiting the poor, andsetting a good example to her more worldly contemporaries, had actuallyforgotten these fine resolutions, and before she was twenty had becomethe wife of Sylvester Slack, a young lawyer in a neighboring town!Cecy's wedding and wedding-clothes, and Cecy's house-furnishing had beenthe great excitement of the preceding year in Burnet; and a freshexcitement had come since in the shape of Cecy's baby, now about twomonths old, and named "Katherine Clover," after her two friends. Thismade it natural that Cecy and her affairs should still be of interest inthe Carr household; and Johnnie, at the time we write of, was making hera week's visit.

  "She _was_ rather wedded to them," went on Clover, pursuing the subjectof the pink roses. "She was almost vexed when I wouldn't buy the spray.But it cost lots, and I didn't want it in the least, so I stood firm.Besides, I always said that my first party dress should be plain white.Girls in novels always wear white to their first balls; and freshflowers are a great deal prettier, any way, than artificial. Katy saysshe'll give me some violets to wear."

  "Oh, will she? That will be lovely!" cried the adoring Elsie. "Violetslook just like you, somehow. Oh, Clover, what sort of a dress do youthink I shall have when I grow up and go to parties and things? Won't itbe awfully interesting when you and I go out to choose it?"

  Just then the noise of some one running upstairs quickly made thesisters look up from their work. Footsteps are very significant attimes, and these footsteps suggested haste and excitement.

  Another moment, the door opened, and Katy dashed in, calling out,"Papa!--Elsie, Clover, where's papa?"

  "He went over the river to see that son of Mr. White's who broke hisleg. Why, what's the matter?" asked Clover.

  "Is somebody hurt?" inquired Elsie, startled at Katy's agitated looks.

  "No, not hurt, but poor Mrs. Ashe is in such trouble."

  Mrs. Ashe, it should be explained, was a widow who had come to Burnetsome months previously, and had taken a pleasant house not far from theCarrs'. She was a pretty, lady-like woman, with a particularly graceful,appealing manner, and very fond of her one child, a little girl. Katyand papa both took a fancy to her at once; and the families had grownneighborly and intimate in a short time, as people occasionally do whencircumstances are favorable.

  "I'll tell you all about it in a minute," went on Katy. "But first Imust find Alexander, and send him off to meet papa and beg him to hurryhome." She went to the head of the stairs as she spoke, and called"Debby! Debby!" Debby answered. Katy gave her direction, and then cameback again to the room where the other two were sitting.

  "Now," she said, speaking more collectedly, "I must explain as fast as Ican, for I have got to go back. You know that Mrs. Ashe's little nephewis here for a visit, don't you?"

  "Yes, he came on Saturday."

  "Well, he was ailing all day yesterday, and to-day he is worse, and sheis afraid it is scarlet-fever. Luckily, Amy was spending the day withthe Uphams yesterday, so she scarcely saw the boy at all; and as soonas her mother became alarmed, she sent her out into the garden to play,and hasn't let her come indoors since, so she can't have been exposedto any particular danger yet. I went by the house on my way downstreet, and there sat the poor little thing all alone in the arbor,with her dolly in her lap, looking so disconsolate. I spoke to her overthe fence, and Mrs. Ashe heard my voice, and opened the upstairs windowand called to me. She said Amy had never had the fever, and that thevery idea of her having it frightened her to death. She is such adelicate child, you know."

  "Oh, poor Mrs. Ashe!" cried Clover; "I am so sorry for her! Well, Katy,what did you do?"

  "I hope I didn't do wrong, but I offered to bring Amy here. Papa won'tobject, I am almost sure."

  "Why, of course he won't. Well?"

  "I am going back now to fetch Amy. Mrs. Ashe is to let Ellen, who hasn'tbeen in the room with the little boy, pack a bagful of clothes and putit out on the steps, and I shall send Alexander for it by and by. Youcan't think how troubled poor Mrs. Ashe was. She couldn't help cryingwhen she said that Amy was all she had left in the world. And I nearlycried too, I wa
s so sorry for her. She was so relieved when I said thatwe would take Amy. You know she has a great deal of confidence in papa."

  "Yes, and in you too. Where will you put Amy to sleep, Katy?"

  "What do you think would be best? In Dorry's room?"

  "I think she'd better come in here with you, and I'll go into Dorry'sroom. She is used to sleeping with her mother, you know, and she wouldbe lonely if she were left to herself."

  "Perhaps that will be better, only it is a great bother for you,Clovy dear."

  "I don't mind," responded Clover, cheerfully. "I rather like to changeabout and try a new room once in a while. It's as good as going on ajourney--almost."

  She pushed aside the half-finished dress as she spoke, opened a drawer,took out its contents, and began to carry them across the entry toDorry's room, doing everything with the orderly deliberation that wascharacteristic of whatever Clover did. Her preparations were almostcomplete before Katy returned, bringing with her little Amy Ashe.

  Amy was a tall child of eight, with a frank, happy face, and long lighthair hanging down her back. She looked like the pictures of "Alice inWonderland;" but just at that moment it was a very woful little Aliceindeed that she resembled, for her cheeks were stained with tears andher eyes swollen with recent crying.

  "Why, what is the matter?" cried kind little Clover, taking Amy in herarms, and giving her a great hug. "Aren't you glad that you are comingto make us a visit? We are."

  "Mamma didn't kiss me for good-by," sobbed the little girl. "She didn'tcome downstairs at all. She just put her head out of the window andsaid, 'Good-by; Amy, be very good, and don't make Miss Carr anytrouble,' and then she went away. I never went anywhere before withoutkissing mamma for good-by."

  "Mamma was afraid to kiss you for fear she might give you the fever,"explained Katy, taking her turn as a comforter. "It wasn't because sheforgot. She felt worse about it than you did, I imagine. You know thething she cares most for is that you shall not be ill as your cousinWalter is. She would rather do anything than have that happen. As soonas he gets well she will kiss you dozens of times, see if she doesn't.Meanwhile, she says in this note that you must write her a little letterevery day, and she will hang a basket by a string out of the window, andyou and I will go and drop the letters into the basket, and stand by thegate and see her pull it up. That will be funny, won't it? We will playthat you are my little girl, and that you have a real mamma and amake-believe mamma."

  "Shall I sleep with you?" demanded Amy,

  "Yes, in that bed over there."

  "It's a pretty bed," pronounced Amy after examining it gravely for amoment. "Will you tell me a story every morning?"

  "She was having the measles on the back shelf of thecloset, you know."]

  "If you don't wake me up too early. My stories are always sleepytill seven o'clock. Let us see what Ellen has packed in that bag,and then I'll give you some drawers of your own, and we will put thethings away."

  The bag was full of neat little frocks and underclothes stuffed hastilyin all together. Katy took them out, smoothing the folds, and crimpingthe tumbled ruffles with her fingers. As she lifted the last skirt, Amy,with a cry of joy, pounced on something that lay beneath it.

  "It is Maria Matilda," she said, "I'm glad of that. I thought Ellenwould forget her, and the poor child wouldn't know what to do with meand her little sister not coming to see her for so long. She was havingthe measles on the back shelf of the closet, you know, and nobody wouldhave heard her if she had cried ever so loud."

  "What a pretty face she has!" said Katy, taking the doll out ofAmy's hands.

  "Yes, but not so pretty as Mabel. Miss Upham says that Mabel is theprettiest child she ever saw. Look, Miss Clover," lifting the other dollfrom the table where she had laid it; "hasn't she got _sweet_ eyes?She's older than Maria Matilda, and she knows a great deal more. She'sbegun on French verbs!"

  "Not really! Which ones?"

  "Oh, only 'J'aime, tu aimes, il aime,' you know,--the same that ourclass is learning at school. She hasn't tried any but that. Sometimesshe says it quite nicely, but sometimes she's very stupid, and I have toscold her." Amy had quite recovered her spirits by this time.

  "Are these the only dolls you have?"

  "Oh, please don't call them _that!_" urged Amy. "It hurts their feelingsdreadfully. I never let them know that they are dolls. They think thatthey are real children, only sometimes when they are very bad I use theword for a punishment. I've got several other children. There's oldRagazza. My uncle named her, and she's made of rag, but she has such badrheumatism that I don't play with her any longer; I just give hermedicine. Then there's Effie Deans, she's only got one leg; and Mopsathe Fairy, she's a tiny one made out of china; and Peg ofLinkinvaddy,--but she don't count, for she's all come to pieces."

  "What very queer names your children have!" said Elsie, who had come induring the enumeration.

  "Yes; Uncle Ned named them. He's a very funny uncle, but he's nice. He'salways so much interested in my children."

  "There's papa now!" cried Katy; and she ran downstairs to meet him.

  "Did I do right?" she asked anxiously after she had told her story.

  "Yes, my dear, perfectly right," replied Dr. Carr. "I only hope Amy wastaken away in time. I will go round at once to see Mrs. Ashe and theboy; and, Katy, keep away from me when I come back, and keep the othersaway, till I have changed my coat."

  It is odd how soon and how easily human beings accustom themselves to anew condition of things. When sudden illness comes, or sudden sorrow, ora house is burned up, or blown down by a tornado, there are a few hoursor days of confusion and bewilderment, and then people gather up theirwits and their courage and set to work to repair damages. They clearaway ruins, plant, rebuild, very much as ants whose hill has beentrodden upon, after running wildly about for a little while, begin alltogether to reconstruct the tiny cone of sand which is so important intheir eyes. In a very short time the changes which at first seem so sadand strange become accustomed and matter-of-course things which nolonger surprise us.

  It seemed to the Carrs after a few days as if they had always had Amy inthe house with them. Papa's daily visit to the sick-room, theiravoidance of him till after he had "changed his coat," Amy's lessons andgames of play, her dressing and undressing, the walks with themake-believe mamma, the dropping of notes into the little basket, seemedpart of a system of things which had been going on for a long, longtime, and which everybody would miss should they suddenly stop.

  But they by no means suddenly stopped. Little Walter Ashe's case provedto be rather a severe one; and after he had begun to mend, he caughtcold somehow and was taken worse again. There were some serioussymptoms, and for a few days Dr. Carr did not feel sure how things wouldturn. He did not speak of his anxiety at home, but kept silence and acheerful face, as doctors know how to do. Only Katy, who was moreintimate with her father than the rest, guessed that things were goinggravely at the other house, and she was too well trained to askquestions. The threatening symptoms passed off, however, and littleWalter slowly got better; but it was a long convalescence, and Mrs. Ashegrew thin and pale before he began to look rosy. There was no one onwhom she could devolve the charge of the child. His mother was dead; hisfather, an overworked business man, had barely time to run up once aweek to see about him; there was no one at his home but a housekeeper,in whom Mrs. Ashe had not full confidence. So the good aunt deniedherself the sight of her own child, and devoted her strength and time toWalter; and nearly two months passed, and still little Amy remained atDr. Carr's.

  She was entirely happy there. She had grown very fond of Katy, and wasperfectly at home with the others. Phil and Johnnie, who had returnedfrom her visit to Cecy, were by no means too old or too proud to beplay-fellows to a child of eight; and with all the older members of thefamily Amy was a chosen pet. Debby baked turnovers, and twisted cinnamoncakes into all sorts of fantastic shapes to please her; Alexander wouldlet her drive if she happened to sit on the front seat of th
e carryall;Dr. Carr was seldom so tired that he could not tell her a story,--andnobody told such nice stories as Dr. Carr, Amy thought; Elsie inventedall manner of charming games for the hour before bedtime; Clover madewonderful capes and bonnets for Mabel and Maria Matilda; and Katy--Katydid all sorts of things.

  Katy had a peculiar gift with children which is not easy to define. Somepeople possess it, and some do not; it cannot be learned, it comes bynature. She was bright and firm and equable all at once. She both amusedand influenced them. There was something about her which excited thechildish imagination, and always they felt her sympathy. Amy was atractable child, and intelligent beyond her age, but she was never quiteso good with any one as with Katy. She followed her about like a littlelover; she lavished upon her certain special words and caresses whichshe gave to no one else; and would kneel on her lap, patting Katy'sshoulders with her soft hand, and cooing up into her face like a happydove, for a half-hour together. Katy laughed at these demonstrations,but they pleased her very much. She loved to be loved, as allaffectionate people do, but most of all to be loved by a child.

  At last, the long convalescence ended, Walter was carried away to hisfather, with every possible precaution against fatigue and exposure, andan army of workpeople was turned into Mrs. Ashe's house. Plaster wasscraped and painted, wall-papers torn down, mattresses made over, andclothing burned. At last Dr. Carr pronounced the premises in a sanitarycondition, and Mrs. Ashe sent for her little girl to come home again.

  Amy was overjoyed at the prospect of seeing her mother; but at the lastmoment she clung to Katy and cried as if her heart would break.

  "I want you too," she said. "Oh, if Dr. Carr would only let you come andlive with me and mamma, I should be so happy! I shall be so lone-ly!"

  "Nonsense!" cried Clover. "Lonely with mamma, and those poor children ofyours who have been wondering all these weeks what has become of you!They'll want a great deal of attention at first, I am sure; medicine andnew clothes and whippings,--all manner of things. You remember Ipromised to make a dress for Effie Deans out of that blue and brownplaid like Johnnie's balmoral. I mean to begin it to-morrow."

  "Oh, will you?"--forgetting her grief--"that will be lovely. The skirtneedn't be _very_ full, you know. Effie doesn't walk much, because ofonly having one leg. She will be _so_ pleased, for she hasn't had a newdress I don't know when."

  Consoled by the prospect of Effie's satisfaction, Amy departed quitecheerfully, and Mrs. Ashe was spared the pain of seeing her only childin tears on the first evening of their reunion. But Amy talked soconstantly of Katy, and seemed to love her so much, that it put a planinto her mother's head which led to important results, as the nextchapter will show.