CHAPTER III
PHIL HAS A VISITOR
Phil was alone, as indeed he was always, except on Sundays, or the fewhalf-holidays that came to Lisa. Once in a while Lisa begged off, orpaid another woman for doing an extra share of work in her place, ifPhil was really too ill for her to leave him. The hot sun was pouringinto the garret room, though a green paper shade made it less blinding,and Phil was lying back in a rocking-chair, wrapped in a shawl. On asmall table beside him were some loose pictures from a newspaper, apencil or two, and an old sketch-book, a pitcher of water, and an emptyplate.
The boy opened his closed eyes as Joe came in, after knocking, andlooked surprised.
"Why, Joe, what is the matter?" he asked. "You do not come twice a dayvery often."
"No," said Joe, "nor are you always a-sufferin' as you was this mornin'.I've come to know how you are, and to bring you _that_," said hetriumphantly putting the nosegay before the child's eyes.
The boy nearly snatched the flowers out of Joe's hand in his eagernessto get them, and putting them to his face he kissed them in his delight.
"Oh, Joe dear, I am _so_ much obliged! Oh, you darling, lovely flowers,how sweet you are! how delicious you smell! I never saw anything morebeautiful. Where did they come from, Joe?"
"Ah, you can't guess, I reckon."
"No, of course not; they are so sweet, so perfect, they take all my painaway; and I have been nearly smothered with the heat to-day. Just seehow cool they look, as if they had just been picked."
"It's a pity the one who sent 'em can't hear ye. Shall I bring her in?"
"Who, Joe--who do you mean?"
"Joe means me," said a soft voice; "I sent them to you, and I am MissRachel Schuyler, an old friend of Joe's. I want to know you, Phil, andsee if I cannot do something for that pain I hear you suffer so muchwith. Shall I put the flowers in water, so that they will last a littlelonger? Ah, no! you want to hold them, and breathe their sweetfragrance."
Miss Schuyler had opened the door so gently, and appeared so entirely athome, that Phil took her visit quite as a matter of course, and thoughastonished, was not at all flurried. He fastened his searching gaze uponher, over the flowers which he held close to his lips, and made up hismind what to say. At last, after deliberating, he said, simply, "I thankyou very much." His thoughts ran this way: "She is a real lady, a kind,lovely woman; she has on a nice dress--nicer than Lisa's; she has littlehands, and what a soft pleasant voice! I wonder if my mother looked likeher?"
Miss Schuyler's thoughts were very pitiful. She was much moved by thepale little face and brilliant eyes, the pleased, shy expression, theair of refinement, and the very evident pain and poverty. She could notsay much, and to hide her agitation took up the sketch-book, saying,"May I look in this, please?"
Phil nodded, still over the flowers.
As the leaves were opened, one after the other, Miss Schuyler becamestill more interested. The sketches were simply rude copies of newspaperpictures, but there was no doubt of the taste and talent that haddirected their pencilling.
"Have you ever had any teaching, Phil?" she asked.
"No, ma'am," answered Joe for Phil, thinking he might be bashful. "Hehasn't had no larnin' nor teachin' of anythin'; but it is what he wants,poor chile, and he often asks me things I can't answer for want of notknowin' nuthin' myself."
"And what is this?" said Miss Schuyler, touching the box with violinstrings across it, which was on a chair beside her.
"Please don't touch it," answered Phil, anxiously; then fearing he hadbeen rude, added, "It is my harp, and I am so afraid, if it is handled,that the fairies will never dance on it again. You ought to hear whatlovely music comes out of it when the wind blows."
Phil spoke as if fairies were his particular friends. Miss Schuylerlooked at him pitifully, thinking him a little light-headed. Joe nodded,and looked wise, as much as to say, "I told you so."
Just then Phil's pain came on again, and it was as much as he could donot to scream; but Miss Rachel saw the pallor of his face, and turningto Joe, asked:
"Does he have a doctor? Is anything done for him?"
"Nuthin', Miss Rachel, that I knows of. I never knew of his havin' adoctor."
"Poor child!" said Miss Rachel, smoothing his forehead, and fanning him.Then she tucked a pillow behind him, and did all so gently that Philtook her hand and kissed it--it eased his pain so to have just theselittle things done for him. Then she poured a little of her cordial in aglass with some water, and he thought he had never tasted anything sorefreshing. She sent Joe after some ice, and spreading her napkins outon Phil's table, set all her little store of dainties before him,tempting the child to eat in spite of his pain.
Phil thought it was all the fairies' doing and not Joe's--poor pleasedJoe--who looked on with a radiant face of delight. Phil would not eatunless Joe took one of his cakes, so the old fellow munched one toplease him.
Meanwhile Miss Schuyler gazed at the boy with more and more interest; asomething she could hardly define attracted her. At first it had beenhis suffering and poverty, for her heart was tender, and she was alwaysdoing kind deeds; but now as she looked at him she saw in his face alikeness to some one she had loved, the look of an old and familiarfriend, a look also of thought and ability, which only needed fosteringto make of Phil a person of great use in the world--one who might be aleader rather than a follower in the path of industry and usefulness.The grateful little kiss on her hand had gone deeply into her heart.Phil must no longer be left alone: he must have good food and medicalcare and fresh air, and Lisa must be consulted as to how these thingsshould be gained. So while Phil nibbled at the good things, and Joechuckled and talked, half to himself and half to Phil, Miss Schuylerwrote a note to Lisa, asking her to come and see her that evening, ifconvenient, explaining how her interest had been aroused in Phil, andthat she wanted to know more about him, and wanted to help him, and wassure she could make his life more comfortable, and that Lisa must takeher interference kindly, for it was offered in a loving spirit. Then shefolded the note, and gave it to Phil for Lisa, and arranging all hislittle comforts about him, bade him good-bye.
Phil thought her face like that of an angel's when she stooped to kisshim; and after Joe, too, had hobbled off, promising to come again soonwith his violin, he took up his pencil, and tried to sketch MissSchuyler. Face after face was drawn, but none to his taste; first thenose was crooked, then the eyes were too small, then the mouth would betwisted, and just as Lisa came in, with a tired and flushed face, hethrew his pencil away and began to sob.
"Why, my dear Phil," said Lisa, in surprise, "are you so very miserableto-night?"
"No, I am not miserable at all," said Phil, between his tears; "that is,I have had pain enough, but I have had such a lovely visitor!--Joebrought her--and I wanted to make a little picture of her, so that youcould see what she looked like, and I cannot. Oh dear! I wish I couldever do anything!"
"Ah, you are tired; drink this nice milk and you will be better."
"I have had delicious things to eat, and I saved some for you, Lisa.Look!" and he showed her the little parcel of cakes Miss Schuyler hadleft. "And see the big piece of ice in my glass."
"Some one has been kind to my boy."
"Yes; and here is a note for you; and you must dress up, Lisa, when yougo to see our new friend."
Lisa looked down at her shabby garments; they were all she had; but shedid not tell Phil that her only black silk had been sold long ago. Sheread the note, and her face brightened. There seemed a chance of betterthings for Phil.
"I will go to-night, if you can spare me."
"Not till you have rested, Lisa; and you must drink all that milk yourown self. Did you ever hear of Miss Schuyler?"
"I don't know," said Lisa, meditating; "the name is not strange to me.But there used to be so many visitors at your father's house, Phil dear,that I cannot be sure."
"She is so nice and tender and kind--Have you had a tiresome day, Lisa,"added Phil, quickly, fearing L
isa might think herself neglected in hiseager praise of the new friend.
"Yes, rather; but I can go. So Joe brought her here?"
"Yes; and see these flowers--yes, you must have some. Put them in yourbelt, Lisa."
"Oh, flowers don't suit my old clothes, child; keep them yourself, dear.Well, it is a long lane that has no turning," she said, half to herselfand half to Phil. "Perhaps God has sent us Miss Schuyler to do for youwhat I have not been able to; but I have tried--he knows I have."
"And I know it too, dear Lisa," said Phil pulling her down to him, andthrowing both arms around her. "No one could be kinder, Lisa; and Ilove this old garret room, just because it is your home and mine. Nowget me my harp, and when you have put it in the window you can go; and Iwill try not to have any pain, so that you won't have to rub meto-night."
"Dear child!" was all Lisa could say, as she did what he asked her todo, and then left him alone.