Aunt Madge's Story Part 17

"Dr. Foster says her brain has always been too active, and--"

"Madge, you'd better run along," said mother. "The baby's asleep now; but she'll wake up and want you."

I went with a new thought and a new fear, though I did not know what I thought or what I feared.

When I reached Squire Allen's, Ann Smiley came down the path to meet me.

I asked, "_Is_ Fel very low? Polly said so."

And she answered,--

"Why, no, indeed; she is as well as common. Polly is so queer."

I went into the house, and Madam Allen drew me close to her, and said,--

"Bless you, child, for coming here to cheer our little darling."

When she set me down, I saw she had been crying. I had never seen her with red eyes before.

"You and Fel may stay in the warm sitting-room," said she; "and Ann shall carry in some sponge cake and currant shrub, for Fel hardly tasted her dinner."

I remember how Fel clapped her hands, and smiled to see me; and how Ann brought the cake into the sitting-room, and drew up a little table before the fire. We sat and played keep house, and sipped currant shrub out of some silver goblets which had crossed the ocean.

It is a beautiful picture I am seeing now, as I shut my eyes: Fel, with that lovely smile on her face, as if some one were whispering pleasant things in her ear.

"I love you so, and it's so nice;" said I.

Gust came in, and she took his hand and patted it.

"Yes," said she; "I love you and Gust, and it is nice; but we'll have nicer times when we get to heaven, you know."

Gust gave her one little hug, and rushed out of the room. Then I remember throwing myself on the rug and crying; for there was an ache at my heart, though I could not tell why.

Grandpa Harrington came in, and began to poke the fire.

"Well, well," said he; "its hard for one to be taken and the other left, so it is. But Jesus blessed little children; and I wouldn't cry, my dear."

That was the last time I ever played with Fel. She grew feverish that night, and the doctor said she must not see any one. Something was the matter with her head, and she did not know people. I heard she had "water on the brain," and wondered if they put it on to make it feel cool.

There, children, I do not like to talk about it. It was all over in three short weeks, and then the angels called for Fel. She was "taken"

and I was "left," and it seemed "very hard." I grieved for a long while, and wanted to go too; but Madam Allen said,--

"You are all the little girl I have now to take in my arms. Don't you want to stay in this world to make Fel's mother happy?"

"Yes," said I; "I do."

And my own mamma said,--

"The baby needs you, too. See, she has learned to hold her hands to you!"

They all tried to comfort me, and by and by I felt happy again. I am told that the loss of my dear little friend made me a different child.

I grew more kind and gentle in my ways, more thoughtful of other people. Not very good, by any means, but trying harder to be good.

Well, I believe this is all I have to tell you of my little days, for very soon I began to be a large girl.

I am leaving off at a sad place, do you say, Prudy? Why, I don't think so. To me it is the most beautiful part of all. Just think of my dear little friend growing up to womanhood in heaven! I ought to be willing to spare her. O, yes!

She was always better than I, and what must she be now? It would frighten me to think of that, only she never knew she was good, and had such a way of not seeing the badness in me.

I shall never forget my darling Fel, and I think she will remember me if I should live to be very old. Yes, I do believe she loves me still, and is waiting for me, and will be very glad to see me when I go to the Summer Land.

Here is a lock of her hair, Fly. You see it is a beautiful golden brown, and as soft as your own. A certain poet says,--

"There seems a love in hair, though it be dead."

And that is why I shall always keep this little tress.

Now kiss me, dears, and we will all go to the study, and see what uncle Gustus is doing.

Yes, Fly, I did like your uncle Gustus, because he was Fel's brother.

Well,--I don't know--yes, dear,--perhaps that _was_ part of one little reason why I married him.