XV.

  _WILLIE'S VISIT._

  "There," said Mrs. Granby, holding Willie Richards at arm's length fromher, and gazing at him with pride and admiration,--"there, I'd like tosee the fellow, be he man, woman, or child, that will dare to say myboy is not fit to stand beside any gentleman's son in the land."

  Certainly Mrs. Granby had no need to be ashamed of the object of heraffectionate care. His shoes, though well worn and patched, had beenblacked and polished till they looked quite respectable; the suit madefrom his father's old uniform was still neat and whole, for Willie'spresent quiet life was a great saving to his clothes, if that wereany comfort; his white collar was turned back and neatly tied with ablack ribbon, and Mrs. Granby had just combed back the straight locksfrom his pale, fair forehead in a jaunty fashion which she thoughthighly becoming to him. There was a look of hope and peace on hisdelicate face which and not been there for many a long day, for lastnight his father had told him that the doctor had an almost sure hopeof restoring his sight, if he were good and patient, and that theoperation was to take place the next week. The news had put fresh heartand life into the poor boy, and now, as Mrs. Granby said this, helaughed aloud, and throwing both arms about her neck, and pressing hischeek to hers, said,--

  "Thank you, dear Auntie Granby. I know I am nice when you fix me up.Pretty soon I shall _see_ how nice you make me look."

  "Come now, Jennie, bring along that mop of yours," said Mrs. Granby,brandishing a comb at Jennie, and, half laughing, half shrinking, thelittle girl submitted to put her head into Mrs. Granby's hands. But,as had been the case very often before, it was soon given up as ahopeless task. Jennie's short, crisp curls defied both comb and brush,and would twist themselves into close, round rings, lying one overanother after their own will and fashion.

  "I don't care," said Jennie, when Mrs. Granby pretended to be veryangry at the rebellious hair,--"I don't care if it won't be smoothed;it is just like father's, mother says so; and anything like him is goodenough for me."

  "Well, I won't say no to that," said Mrs. Granby, putting down thebrush and throwing Jennie's dress over her head. "The more you're likehim in all ways, the better you'll be, Jennie Richards, you mind that."

  "I do mind it," said Jennie. "I know he's the best father ever lived.Isn't he, Willie?"

  "S'pose that's what all young ones says of their fathers and mothers,"answered Mrs. Granby, "even s'posin' the fathers and mothers ain'tmuch to boast of. But you're nearer the truth, Jennie, than some ofthem, and it's all right and nat'ral that every child should think itsown folks the best. There's little Miss Bradfords, what you're goin' upto see, they'd be ready to say the same about their pa."

  "And good reason, too," chimed in Mrs. Richards. "He's as true andnoble a gentleman as ever walked, and a good friend to us."

  "That's so," answered Mrs. Granby, "I'll not gainsay you there neither.And that's come all along of your man just speaking a kind word or twoto that stray lamb of his. And if I'd a mind to contradick you, which Ihaint, there's Sergeant Richards himself to back your words. The bairnsis 'most ready, sergeant; and me and Mary was just sayin' how strangeit seemed that such a friend as Mr. Bradford was raised up for youjust along of a bit of pettin' you give that lost child. It's as thegentleman says,--'bread cast upon the waters;' but who'd ha' thoughtto see it come back the way it does? It beats all how things do comearound."

  "Under God's guidance," said the policeman, softly. "The Lord's waysare past finding out."

  "I'll agree to that too," answered Mrs. Granby, "bein' in anaccommodatin' humor this afternoon. There, now, Jennie, you're ready.Mind your manners now, and behave pretty, and don't let Willie goto falling down them long stairs at Mrs. Bradford's. There, kissyour mother, both of you, and go away with your father. I s'pose heain't got no time to spare. I'll go over after them in an hour or so,Sergeant Richards."

  Here Tommy began very eagerly with his confused jargon which no onepretended to understand but Jennie.

  "What does he say, Jennie?" asked the father.

  "He says, 'Nice little girl, come some more. Bring her doggie,'" saidJennie; then turning to her mother, she asked, "Mother, do you b'lieveyou can understand Tommy till I come back?"

  "I'll try," said her mother, smiling; "if I cannot, Tommy and I must bepatient. Run now, father is waiting."

  Mrs. Granby followed them to the door, and even to the gate, where shestood and watched them till they were out of sight, for, as she toldMrs. Richards, "it did her a heap of good to see the poor things goin'off for a bit of a holiday."

  The policeman and his children kept steadily on till they reached thepark near which Mr. Bradford lived, where they turned in.

  "How nice it is!" said Willie as the fresh, sweet air blew across hisface, bringing the scent of the new grass and budding trees. "It seemsa little like the country here. Don't you wish we lived in the country,father?"

  "I would like it, Willie, more for your sake than for anything else,and I wish from my heart I could send you and mother off to the countrythis summer, my boy. But you see it can't be managed. But I guesssomehow father will contrive to send you now and then up to CentralPark, or for a sail down the bay or up the river. And you and Jenniecan come over here every day and play about awhile, and that will put abit of strength in you, if you can't get out into the country."

  "And then I shall see; sha'n't I, father? I hear the birds. Are theyhopping about like they used to, over the trees, so tame and nice?"

  "Yes," answered his father, "and here we are by the water, where's awhole heap of 'em come down for a drink." In his new hope, Willie tooka fresh interest in all about him.

  "Oh, I hear 'em!" said Willie, eagerly, "and soon I'll see 'em. Will itbe next week, father?" and he clasped tightly the hand he held.

  "I don't know about next week, sonny. I believe your eyes have to bebandaged for a while, lest the light would be too bright for them,while they're still weak, but you will have patience for that; won'tyou, Willie?"

  Willie promised, for it seemed to him that he could have patience andcourage for anything now.

  "Oh!" said Jennie, as they reached Mr. Bradford's house, and went upthe steps, "don't I wish I lived in a house like this!"

  "Don't be wishing that," said her father. "You'll see a good manythings here such as you never saw before, but you mustn't go to wishingfor them or fretting after the same. We've too much to be thankful for,my lassie, to be hankering for things which are not likely ever to beours."

  "'Tis no harm to wish for them; is it, father?" asked Jennie, as theywaited for the door to be opened.

  "It's not best even to wish for what's beyond our reach," said herfather, "lest we should get to covet our neighbors' goods, or to bediscontented with our own lot; and certainly we have no call to dothat."

  Richards asked for Mrs. Bradford, and she presently came down,bringing Maggie and Bessie with her. Jennie felt a little strange andfrightened at first when her father left her. Making acquaintance withMaggie and Bessie in her own home was a different thing from coming tovisit them in their large, handsome house, and they scarcely seemed toher like the same little girls. But when Maggie took her up-stairs, andshowed her the baby-house and dolls, she forgot everything else, andlooked at them, quite lost in admiration.

  Willie was not asked to look at anything. The little sisters hadthought of what he had said the day they went to see him, and agreedthat Bessie was to take care of him while Maggie entertained Jennie.He asked after Flossy, and the dog was called, and behaved quite aswell as he had done when he saw Willie before, lying quiet in his armsas long as the blind boy chose to hold him, and putting his cold noseagainst his face in an affectionate way which delighted Willie highly.

  There was no difficulty in amusing Jennie, who had eyes for all thatwas to be seen, and who thought she could never be tired of handlingand looking at such beautiful toys and books. But perhaps the childrenwould hardly have known how to entertain Willie for any length of time,if a new pleasure had
not accidentally been furnished for him.

  Maggie and Bessie had just taken him and his sister into the nursery tovisit the baby, the canary bird, and other wonders there, when therecame sweet sounds from below. Willie instantly turned to the door andstood listening.

  "Who's making that music?" he asked presently in a whisper, as if hewere afraid to lose a note.

  "Mamma and Aunt Bessie," said Maggie.

  "Would you and Jennie like to go down to the parlor and hear it?" askedBessie.

  Willie said "Yes," very eagerly, but Jennie did not care to go wherethe grown ladies were, and said she would rather stay up-stairs ifMaggie did not mind.

  Maggie consented, and Bessie went off, leading the blind boy by thehand. It was both amusing and touching to see the watch she keptover this child who was twice her own size, guiding his steps witha motherly sort of care, looking up at him with wistful pity andtenderness, and speaking to him in a soft, coaxing voice such as onewould use to an infant.

  They were going down-stairs when they met Aunt Patty coming up. Shepassed them at the landing, then suddenly turning, said, in the short,quick way to which Bessie was by this time somewhat accustomed,"Children! Bessie! This is very dangerous! You should not be leadingthat poor boy down-stairs. Where are your nurses, that they do notsee after you? Take care, take care! Look where you are going now!Carefully, carefully!"

  Now if Aunt Patty had considered the matter, she would have known shewas taking the very way to bring about the thing she dreaded. Williehad been going on fearlessly, listening to his gentle little guide; butat the sound of the lady's voice he started, and as she kept repeatingher cautions, he grew nervous and uneasy; while Bessie, instead ofwatching his steps and taking heed to her own, kept glancing up at heraunt with an uncomfortable sense of being watched by those sharp eyes.

  However, they both reached the lower hall in safety, where Bessie ledher charge to the parlor-door. "Mamma," she said, "Willie likes musicvery much. I suppose you would just as lief he would listen to you andAunt Bessie."

  "Certainly," said mamma. "Bring him in."

  But before they went in, Willie paused and turned to Bessie.

  "Who was that on the stairs?" he asked in a whisper.

  "Oh! that was only Aunt Patty," answered the little girl. "You need notbe afraid of her. She don't mean to be so cross as she is; but she isold, and had a great deal of trouble, and not very wise people to teachher better when she was little. So she can't help it sometimes."

  "No," said Willie, slowly, as if he were trying to recollect something,"I am not afraid; but then I thought I had heard that voice before."

  "Oh, I guess not," said Bessie; and then she took him in and seated himin her own little arm-chair, close to the piano.

  No one who had noticed the way in which the blind boy listened to themusic, or seen the look of perfect enjoyment on his pale, patient face,could have doubted his love for the sweet sounds. While Mrs. Bradfordand Miss Rush played or sang, he sat motionless, not moving a finger,hardly seeming to breathe, lest he should lose one note.

  "So you are very fond of music; are you, Willie?" said Mrs. Bradford,when at length they paused.

  "Yes, ma'am, very," said he, modestly; "but I never heard music likethat before. It seems 'most as if it was alive."

  "So it does," said Bessie, while the ladies smiled at the boy'sinnocent admiration.

  "I think there's a many nice things in this house," continued Willie,who, in his very helplessness and unconsciousness of the many newobjects which surrounded him, was more at his ease than his sister.

  "And mamma is the nicest of all," said Bessie. "You can't think howprecious she is, Willie!"

  Mrs. Bradford laughed as she put back her little daughter's curls, andkissed her forehead.

  "I guess she must be, when she is your mother," said Willie. "You mustall be very kind and good people here; and I wish, oh, I wish it wasyou and your sister who gave the money for Dr. Dawson. But never mind;I thank you and love you all the same as if you had done it, only Iwould like to think it all came through you. And father says"--

  Here Willie started, and turned his sightless eyes towards the opendoor, through which was again heard Mrs. Lawrence's voice, as she gavedirections to Patrick respecting a parcel she was about to send home.

  "What is the matter, Willie?" asked Mrs. Bradford.

  "Nothing, ma'am;" answered the child, as a flush came into his palecheeks, and rising from his chair, he stood with his head bent forward,listening intently, till the sound of Aunt Patty's voice ceased, andthe opening and closing of the front-door showed that she had gone out,when he sat down again with a puzzled expression on his face.

  "Does anything trouble you?" asked Mrs. Bradford.

  "No, ma'am; but--but--I _know_ I've heard it before."

  "Heard what?"

  "That voice, ma'am; Miss Bessie said it was her aunt's."

  "But you couldn't have heard it, you know, Willie," said Bessie,"'cause you never came to this house before, and Aunt Patty never wentto yours."

  These last words brought it all back to the blind boy. He knew now."But she _did_," he said, eagerly,--"she did come to our house. That'sthe one; that's the voice that scolded mother and Auntie Granby andJennie, and that put the money into the Bible when we didn't know it!"

  Mrs. Bradford and Miss Rush looked at one another with quick, surprisedglances; but Bessie said, "Oh! you must be mistaken, Willie. It's quite_un_possible. Aunt Patty does not know you or your house, and shenever went there. Besides, she does not"--"Does not like you to havethe money," she was about to say, when she thought that this would beneither kind nor polite, and checked herself.

  But Willie was quite as positive as she was, and with a little shake ofhis head, he said, "Ever since I was blind, I always knew a voice whenI heard it once. I wish Jennie or Mrs. Granby had seen her, they couldtell you; but I know that's the voice. It was _you_ sent her, afterall, ma'am; was it not?" and he turned his face toward Mrs. Bradford.

  "No, Willie, I did not send her," answered the lady, with another lookat Miss Rush, "nor did any one in this house."

  But in spite of this, and all Bessie's persuasions and assurances thatthe thing was quite impossible, Willie was not to be convinced that thevoice he had twice heard was not that of the old lady who had left themoney in the Bible; and he did not cease regretting that Jennie had notseen her.

  But to have Jennie or Mrs. Granby see her was just what Mrs. Lawrencedid not choose, and to avoid this, she had gone out, not being able toshut herself up in her own room, which was undergoing a sweeping anddusting. She had not been afraid of the sightless eyes of the littleboy when she met him on the stairs, never thinking that he mightrecognize her voice; but she had taken good care not to meet those ofJennie, so quick and bright, and which she felt would be sure to knowher in an instant. But secure as Aunt Patty thought herself, when shewas once out of the house, that treacherous voice of hers had betrayedher, not only to Willie's sensitive ears, but to that very pair of eyeswhich she thought she had escaped. For, as the loud tones had reachedMaggie and Jennie at their play, the latter had dropped the toy sheheld, and exclaimed, in a manner as startled as Willie's, "There's thatwoman!"

  "What woman?" asked Maggie.

  "The old woman who brought the money to our house. I know it is her."

  "Oh, no, it is not," said Maggie; "that's Aunt Patty, and she's anold lady, not an old woman, and she wouldn't do it if she could. Sheis real mean, Jennie, and I think that person who took you the moneywas real good and kind, even if we did feel a little bad about it atfirst. Aunt Patty would never do it, I know. Bessie and I try to likeher, and just as we begin to do it a little scrap, she goes and doessomething that makes us mad again, so it's no use to try."

  "But she does talk just like the lady who came to our house," persistedJennie.

  "You can see her if you have a mind to," said Maggie, "and then you'llknow it is not her. Come and look over the balusters, but don't let hersee you, or
else she'll say, 'What are you staring at, child?'"

  They both ran to the head of the stairs, where Jennie peeped over thebalusters.

  "It _is_ her!" she whispered to Maggie. "I am just as sure, as sure.She is all dressed up nice to-day, and the other day she had on an oldwater-proof cloak, and a great big umbrella, and she didn't look sonice. But she's the very same."

  "Let's go down and tell mamma, and see what she says," said Maggie, asthe front-door closed after Aunt Patty.

  Away they both rushed to the parlor; but when Jennie saw the ladies,she was rather abashed and hung back a little, while Maggie broke forthwith, "Mamma, I have the greatest piece of astonishment to tell you,you ever heard. Jennie says she is quite sure Aunt Patty is the womanwho put the money in the Bible and paid Dr. Dawson. But, mamma, itcan't be; can it? Aunt Patty is quite too dog-in-the-mangery; is shenot?"

  "Maggie, dear," said her mother, "that is not a proper way for you tospeak of your aunt, nor do I think it is just as you say. What do youmean by that?"

  "Why, mamma, you know the dog in the manger could not eat the hayhimself, and would not let the oxen eat it; and Aunt Patty would notbuy the grove, or tell papa what was the reason; so was she not likethe dog in the manger?"

  "Not at all," said Mrs. Bradford, smiling at Maggie's reasoning. "Thetwo cases are not at all alike. As you say, the dog would not let thehungry oxen eat the hay he could not use himself, but because AuntPatty did not choose to buy the grove, we have no right to suppose shewould not make, or has not made some other good use of her money, andif she chooses to keep that a secret, she has a right to do so. No, Ido not think we can call her like the dog in the manger, Maggie."

  "But do you believe she gave up the grove for that, mamma? She wouldnot be so good and generous; would she?"

  "Yes, dear, I think she would. Aunt Patty is a very generous-heartedwoman, although her way of doing things may be very different from thatof some other people. Mind, I did not say that she _did_ do this, butWillie and Jennie both seem to be quite positive that she is the oldlady who was at their house, and I think it is not at all unlikely."

  "And shall you ask her, mamma?"

  "No. If it was Aunt Patty who has been so kind, she has shown veryplainly that she did not wish to be questioned, and I shall saynothing, nor must you. We will not talk about it any more now. We willwind up the musical box, and let Willie see if he likes it as well asthe piano."

  Very soon after this, Mrs. Granby came for Willie and Jennie, andno sooner were they outside of the door than they told of thewonderful discovery they had made. Mrs. Granby said she was not at allastonished, "one might have been sure such a good turn came out of_that_ house, somehow."

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  Title decoration, chap. 16]