CHAPTER V
WINTER HAPPENINGS
Margaret came home and had a party at her house, "Infair" the olderpeople called it. Then a family tea at home, and another at Stephen's.Mrs. Verplank, the Doctor's half-sister, gave her a very elegantreception.
She was oddly changed, somehow, just as sweet, but with more dignity andcomposure; and Jim couldn't make her turn red by teasing her. The littlegirl noticed that her mother treated Margaret with a peculiar deferenceand never scolded her; and she said Philip to Dr. Hoffman.
He had some serious talks with the little girl, for he pretended to beafraid she would love Dolly and Stephen the best. Everybody had a desireto hold her, because she was so little and light. She was not to makethe baby an excuse to go the oftenest to Dolly's.
"Oh, dear," she rejoined, with a sigh, "and if John should get married,and the rest of them, as they grow up, I wouldn't have any time left formyself. But Joe isn't going to be married."
Dr. Hoffman laughed at that.
John had a sweetheart. He always dressed up in his best on Wednesdaynight. Young men in those days thought of homes and families of theirown. There were no clubs to take them in.
An odd little incident happened to Margaret's _menage_. Stephen had oneof Aunt Mary's grandsons as porter in the store. Another, who had beenbrought up as a sort of house-servant to some elderly people that deathhad visited, came to the city, and Stephen sent him to Dr. Hoffman, whowas inquiring about a factotum. He was a very well-looking andwell-mannered young coloured lad, and knew how to drive and care for ahorse. He was quite a cook also, and soon learned to do the marketing.
Margaret kept house for herself, and enjoyed her pretty new china andbeautiful cut-glass. And after a month or two Dolly persuaded her torent two rooms to two ladies, the back room on the second floor, and oneon the third. She was glad to have some company when the Doctor had tobe out. One of the ladies coloured plates for magazines and illustratedbooks. This was done by hand then, and was considered quite artisticwork. We had not printed in colours yet. The ladies were very refined,and had a small income beside the work.
The Doctor took Margaret out every pleasant afternoon. His practice wasnot large enough to work him very severely. In the evening they read orsang, as she played very nicely now. But she missed the breezy boys andtheir doings, and her mother's cheery voice ordering every one about,and, oh, she missed the little girl who didn't come half often enough.
She began a choice piece of work for her, a silk quilt. No one had goneinsane over crazy work then. This was shapely, decorous diamonds, withthe name of the wearer, or a date, embroidered on each block. TheMorgans had given her pieces from Paris and Venice and Holland, and evenHong Kong. Some were a hundred and more years old, and were gowns ofquite famous people.
This fall the American Institute Fair was held at Niblo's Garden. Therewere many curious things. Both telegraphs had been put up,--House's withits letter printing, Morse's with its cabalistic signs. How words couldtravel through a bit of wire puzzled most people. Uncle Faid went withthem one afternoon.
"No use to tell me," he declared. "The fellow at one end knows just whatthe fellow at the other end is going to say. Now if they sent it in abox, or a letter, it would look reasonable."
"I'll send you a message," said Ben; "you go down at the end, and see ifthis doesn't come to you."
He wrote on a slip of paper, and gave it to Uncle Faid, who went to theother end with a disbelieving shake of the head. And when the receiverwrote it out, and Uncle Faid compared it, the astonishment wasindescribable.
"There's some jugglery about it," he still insisted. "Stands to reason abit of wire can't really know what you say."
Hanny brought home her telegraph message; and when she showed it to NoraWhitney, the child declared it was like the queer things in some booksher papa had, called hieroglyphics. But Doctor Joe told her a strangerthing than that. He found the verses in the Psalms that were supposed toprefigure the telegraph:--
"There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.
"Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world."
"But they can't go across the ocean," said the little girl, confidently.
"Why, they are discussing the feasibility of crossing the Hudson withsome kind of sunken cable. What we shall be doing fifty years fromnow--and I shall not be such a dreadfully old man! We are learning howto live longer as well."
Fifty years! and she would be as old as the grandmothers!
The other wonderful thing was the sewing-machine. Elias Howe had learnedhow to thread the needle, the opposite way, by putting the eye in thepoint. There was a little bent piece underneath that caught the loopwhile a thread ran through it. They gave away samples, and everybodyadmitted that it _was_ wonderful.
The little girl said she could sew a great deal better. And her motherdeclared such sewing was hardly good enough for a feed-bag. Her fatherlaughed, and told her rosy fingers were good enough sewing-machine forhim.
Artificial legs and feet interested Doctor Joe very much. They hadcurious springs and wires, and the outside was pink, like realflesh,--in fact, they looked uncanny, they were so real. Hanny had seenseveral old men stumping around on cork or wooden legs about which therecould be no deception. But when any one met with a mishap now, theycould fix him up "limber as an eel," Doctor Joe said.
There was a deal of curious machinery and implements that some peoplesmiled over, which, like the sewing-machines, made fortunes for theirinventors presently; beautiful articles and jewelry; a great vegetableand flower exhibit; a small loom; weaving; carving of all kinds; andcloths and silks. Indeed, the Fair was considered a very great thing,and the country people who came in to visit it felt almost as if theyhad been to a strange country. Every afternoon and evening it wascrowded.
Jim liked his new school very much, and soon flung his Latin words athis little sister in perfect broadsides. Then he found that Ben hadsomehow picked up a good deal of Latin, and knew all the Greek alphabet;and instead of laughing at Charles Reed, as a Miss Nancy, he becamequite friendly with him.
All the children came home for a Christmas dinner, and had a delightfultime. Then Martha was married, and went to her own housekeeping, and acousin of the little German girls who lived in Houston Street, who hadjust come from Germany, petitioned for a trial. She was so bright andclean and ambitious to learn American ways that after a fortnight, Mrs.Underhill decided to keep her.
When all the visitors had gone, Hanny found it very lonely sleeping in abig room by herself. And as they couldn't move her downstairs, Mr. andMrs. Underhill went upstairs and changed their room to theguest-chamber. Hanny missed her sister very much when night came. Butthen she had so many lessons to study; and after the history of Holland,they took up that of Spain, which was as fascinating as any romance.
Everybody was a good deal excited this winter about a curiousphenomenon. At a small town in Western New York two sisters hadannounced that they could hold communication with the spirit-world, andreceive messages from the dead. Little raps announced the spirit of yourfriend or relative. To imaginative people, it was simply wonderful. Andnow the Misses Fox were giving exhibitions and making converts.
People recalled the old Salem witchcraft, and not a few considered itdirect dealing with the Evil One. Ben was deeply interested. He and Joetalked over clairvoyance and mesmerism,--a curious power developed by alearned German, Dr. Mesmer, akin to that of some of the old magicians.Ben was very fond of abnormal things; but Joe set down communicationwith another world as an impossibility. Still, a good many peoplebelieved it.
The children joined the singing-school again, and Charles Reed sang atseveral concerts. He went quite often to the Deans, and occasionallycame over to the Underhills. Both houses were so delightful! If he onlyhad a sister, or a brother! Or if his mother would do something besidescrub and clean the house! Social life was so attractive to him.
One day she d
id do something else. It was February, and the snow and icehad melted rapidly. All the air was full of the sort of chill that goesthrough one. She wanted some windows washed, and the yard cleared up,and was out in the damp a long while. That night she was seized with asudden attack of pleurisy. Mr. Reed sprang up and made a mustarddraught; but the pain grew so severe that he called Charles, and senthim over for Doctor Joe. By daylight, fever set in, and it was so severea case that Doctor Joe called a more experienced doctor in consultation,and said they must have a nurse at once.
Charles had never seen her ill before. And when the doctors looked sograve, and the nurse spoke in such low tones, he was certain she couldnot live. He was so nervous that he could not get his lessons, androamed about the house in a frightened sort of way. The nurse was usedto housekeeping as well, and when she was needed downstairs Charlesstayed in the sick-room. His mother did not know him or any one, butwandered in her mind, and was haunted by the ghosts of work in a mannerthat was pitiful to listen to. The nurse said she had made work heridol. There were two days when Mr. Reed stayed at home, though he sentCharles off to school. They had a woman in the kitchen now, a relativehe had written for, Cousin Jane that Charles had once met in thecountry. She was extremely tidy; but she put on an afternoon gown, and awhite apron, and found time in the evening to read the paper.
On the second afternoon both doctors went away just as Charles camehome. His father was standing on the stoop with them, and Doctor Joelooked down and smiled. The boy's heart beat with a sudden warmth, as hewent down the area steps, wiped his feet, and hung up his cap andovercoat with as much care as if his mother's sharp eyes were on him.There was no one in the room; but he sat down at once to his lessons.
Presently his father entered. His eyes had a pathetic look, as if theywere flooded with tears.
"The doctor gives us a little hope, Charles," he said, in a rathertremulous voice. "It's been a hard pull. The fever was broken yesterday;but she was so awful weak; indeed, it seemed two or three times in thenight as if she was quite gone. Since noon there has been a decidedchange; and, if nothing new happens, she will come around all right. Itwill be a long while though. She's worked too hard and steady; but ithas not been my fault. At all events, we'll keep Cousin Jane just aslong as we can. And now I must run down-town for a few hours. TellCousin Jane not to keep tea waiting."
Charles sat in deep thought many minutes. His father's unwonted emotionhad touched him keenly. Of course he would have been very sorry to havehis mother die, yet how often he had wished for another mother. Thethought shocked him now; and yet he could see so many places where itwould be delightful to have her different. Careful as she was of him, hehad no inner consciousness that she loved him, and he did so want tohave some one he could love and caress, and who would make herselfpretty. Hanny loved her father and mother so much. She "hung around"them. She sat in her father's lap and threaded his hair with her softlittle fingers. She had such pretty ways with her mother. She didn'tseem ever to feel afraid.
Neither did the Deans. Of course they were all girls; but there were Benand Jim and, oh, Doctor Joe teased his mother, and was sweet to her, andeven kissed her, grown man that he was!
Charles could hardly decide which mother he liked the most, but hethought Mrs. Dean. Mrs. Underhill sometimes scolded, though it neverseemed real earnest.
He felt more at home with the Deans. Perhaps this was because Mrs. Deanhad always coveted a boy, and, like a good many mothers, she wanted areal nice, smart, refined boy. Charles was obedient and truthful, neatand orderly, and always had his lessons "by heart." He was very proudof his standing in school. He could talk lessons over with more freedomto Mr. Dean than with his own father. And Josie was always so proud ofhim. Perhaps the reason he liked the Deans so well was because he wassuch a favourite with them, and appreciation seemed very sweet to theboy who had so little in his life.
Mr. Dean seemed to think there was great danger of his growing up aprig; but Mrs. Dean always took his part in any discussion. Mr. Dean wasvery fond of having him over to sing; and Josie gave him her pianolessons, only she kept a long way ahead.
Oh, how many, many times Charles had wished he was their son! There wereso many boys in the Underhill family, he was quite sure they couldn'twant any more.
But just now he felt curiously conscience-stricken, though greatlyconfused. He supposed his mother _did_ want him, though she alwaysconsidered him so much trouble, and talked about her "working frommorning to night and getting no thanks for it." He had felt he wouldlike to thank her specially for some things, but ought he, _must_ he, begrateful for the things he did not want and were only a trouble andmortification to him? And was it wicked to wish for some other mother?
He would try not to do it again. He might think of Mrs. Dean as hisaunt, and the girls his cousins. And he would endeavour with all hismight to love his own mother.
Years afterward, he came to know how great an influence this hour had onhim in moulding his character. But he did not realise how long he haddreamed until he heard Cousin Jane's brisk voice,--it was not a cross orcomplaining voice,--saying:--
"Why, Charles, here in the dark! Well, we have had a pretty severe time;but your mother's good constitution has pulled her through. And thatyoung doctor's just splendid! I haven't had much opinion of youngdoctors heretofore. To be sure, there has been Dr. Fitch; but I thinkDr. Underhill works more as if his life depended on it. And if youweren't very hungry, Charles, we might wait until your father comeshome. About seven, he said. I must confess that Cousin Maria has one ofthe best and most faithful of husbands. He isn't sparing any expense,either."
Charles flushed with delight to hear his father praised for his devotionto his mother.
"I'd like to wait, Cousin Jane," he replied in an eager tone.
"I'll make a cup of tea and take a bit of bread and cold meat up to Mrs.Bond. Then I'll come back and set the table."
She had lighted the lamps while she was talking, and Charles hurried upwith his neglected lessons, studying in earnest.
It was half-past seven when his father came in. No one fretted, however.His brisk walk had given him a good colour, and his eyes had brightened.He seemed so pleased that they had waited for him. Cousin Jane did makeevents go on smoothly. The tea was hot, as he liked it; and there was aplate of toast, of which he was very fond.
When he took out his paper, he said to Charles:--
"You might run over to the Deans and tell them the good news. They havebeen so kind about inquiring. I wouldn't stay more than ten or fifteenminutes."
He had not been over in a week, and they were glad to see him, as wellas to hear the hopeful tidings. But the girls had quite a bit ofcasuistry in their talk that night as they were going to bed, partly asto how Charles could be so glad, and partly whether one ought to be gladunder all circumstances, when events happened that did not really tendto one's comfort.
"But Mary Dawson said she wasn't sorry when her stepmother died, and shewouldn't tell a story about it. Her stepmother wasn't much crosser thanMrs. Reed. You know Mrs. Dawson wouldn't let the girls go tosinging-school, and she made them wear their outgrown dresses, and shedid whip them dreadfully. I couldn't have been sorry either."
"But it would be awful not to have any one sorry when you were dead."
"I think," began Josie, gravely, "we ought to act so people _will_ besorry. If you are good and kind, and do things pleasantly--Mrs. Reed isalways doing; but I guess it is a good deal the _way_ you do. You seemother and father do think of the things we like, when they are rightand proper. They show they love us and like to have us love them inreturn."
"Oh, I just couldn't live without mother!" and the tears overflowedTudie's eyes.
"And I know it would break her heart, and father's, too, if they lostus. And so we ought to try and make each other happy. I mean to thinkmore about it. And, oh, Tudie, if Mrs. Reed could be converted! Peopleare sometimes when they've been very ill. Suppose we pray for that."
They did heart
ily; and Josie resolved not to miss one night. It wouldmake bonny Prince Charlie so happy to have his mother changed into asweet, tender woman.
Charles didn't dare pray for that. God knew what was best for any one,and He _did_ have the power. He wondered what things were right to putin one's prayers. Some years after he came to know it was "all things,"just as one might ask of a human father, knowing that sometimes even thefather after the flesh, in his larger wisdom, saw that it was best todeny.
"Don't you want to look in on your mother?" Cousin Jane said the nextmorning. He had not seen her in several days.
"Oh, yes," answered Charles.
Mrs. Reed had been thin before; but now she looked ghostly, with hersunken eyes and sharpened nose and chin. Charles had a great desire tokiss her; but she did not approve of such "foolishness." Her poorskeleton hand, that had done so much hard and useless work, lay on thespread in a limp fashion, as if it would never do anything again.
Charles took it up and pressed it to his cheek. Mrs. Reed opened hereyes, and a wavering light, hardly a smile, crossed her face.
"I've been very sick," and, oh, how faint the sound was, quivering, too,as if it had not the strength to steady itself! And then the thin lidsfell. The death-like pallor startled him.
"But you're going to get well again."
The boy's sweet, confident tone touched her. She did not dare open hereyes, lest she should cry, she was so weak. Then he said,"Good-morning," and went softly out of the room, feeling that he wasglad in every pulse of his being that God had given her back to them.
Doctor Joe had a good deal of credit for the case. Dr. Fitch admittedthat it had been very severe, and required the utmost watchfulness. Mrs.Underhill was very proud of her son's success "in his own country," asshe termed it. And she said when Mrs. Reed was well enough to seevisitors, she would go over and call. Indeed, it had created a good dealof interest in the neighbourhood, and Charles found himself treated witha peculiar deference among the children.
Mrs. Reed's recovery was very slow, however. Mrs. Bond went away whenshe could begin to go about the room and help herself. Cousin Jane was agood nurse, and she declared, "There wasn't work enough to keep herhalf busy." She did the mending and the ironing; Mr. Reed insisted theyshould have a washerwoman. Mrs. Reed sighed when she thought of theexpense. It had been the pride of her life that she never had a fit ofillness, and had never hired a day's work done except when Charles wasborn.
She was sure now that the house must be in an awful plight. She neverfound time to sit down in the morning and read a book or paper. CousinJane changed her gown every afternoon, and wore lace ruffles at theneck, just plain strips of what was called footing, that she pleated upherself. Then, too, she wore white muslin aprons,--a very old fashionthat was coming back. And though Mrs. Reed couldn't find fault when shesaw Charles and his father always as neat as a pin, still she was surethere must be a great need of thoroughness somewhere. She prided herselfupon being "thorough."
Mrs. Underhill came over one day with the Doctor, and they had a reallynice call. Of course Mrs. Reed couldn't understand how she ever managedwith such a houseful of boys. Yet she was fresh and fair, and seemed totake life very comfortably. Then they were always having so much companyat the Underhills.
"Yes," said Mrs. Underhill, with a mellow sort of laugh that agreedcapitally with her ample person,--"yes, we have such a host ofcousins,--not all own ones, but second and third. And since my daughterwas married, the house seems lonesome at times. All the boys are awayat work but Jim; and Hanny has so many places to go, that, what withlessons and all, I don't seem to get much good of her. But I've a nicekitchen-girl. She was a great trial when she first came, with her notknowing much English, and her German ways of cooking. But she's quitelike folks now, and very trusty. How fortunate you found a relative tocome in and do for you! And the Doctor says you must give up hard workfor a long while to come."
Mrs. Reed sighed, and said she should be glad enough to get about again.
The Deans came over, and some of the other neighbours; and Mrs. Reedfound it very pleasant. One afternoon late in March, Mr. Reed came homequite early, and carried his wife down into the dining-room. He hadasked the Deans over to tea, and Doctor Joe. And there was the table,spick and span, the silver shining, the windows so clean you couldn'tsee there was any glass in them, the curtains fresh, the tableclothironed so that every flower and leaf in it stood out. There wasn't aspeck of dust anywhere!
The kitchen was in nice order; the range black and speckless, theclosets sweet with their fresh white paper. And Cousin Jane's bread andbiscuit were as good as anybody's, her ham tender and a luscious pink,her two kinds of cake perfection.
Charles sat next to his mother, a tall, smiling boy with a clean collarand his best roundabout. It was the first tea-party he ever remembered,and he was delighted. He was so polite and watchful of his mother thatit really went to her heart.
For seven weeks the house had gone on without her, and she couldn't seeany change for the worse. Mr. Reed looked uncommonly well, and was avery agreeable host. The Doctor complimented her, and said next week heshould come and take her out driving; and that, to do him real credit,she must get some flesh on her bones.
It was a very pleasant time; and Charles was so happy that his motherwondered if there wasn't something better in the world than work andcare.