Mildred's New Daughter Part 18

"But oh, it will be so long to wait," sighed the little girl, and Ethel felt like echoing the sigh, for her heart was very sore over Nan's distress as well as her own sorrow, that they must now learn to live apart, at least for a time. But both at length wept themselves to sleep.

The situation did not look very much brighter to them in the morning, and there were traces of tears upon the cheeks of both when they took their places at the breakfast table.

Their aunt had not come down. She was seldom present at that early meal.

But all the cousins except Arabella were in their places, and it seemed that all the older ones looked askance and with no very pleasant expression at her.

But her uncle said good-morning in a very kindly tone, and heaped her plate and Nannette's with the most tempting viands the table afforded.

Ethel's heart was very full. She ate with but little appet.i.te and had finished her meal before any of the rest had satisfied their appet.i.tes.

Her uncle saw it, and on leaving the table called her into the library, where he could speak to her alone.

"Well, my child," he said, "I hope you have thought better of it by this time and do not want to leave us."

At that Ethel's tears began to fall. "I'm sorry, oh, so sorry, to leave you, uncle," she replied, "but you know promises have to be kept, and I did promise to try it. So please don't be angry with me."

"I am sorry, like yourself, my dear child," he said; "but do not blame you. Perhaps it is best you should try the plan; for as you can come back whenever you wish, it will not be risking a great deal, and I fear you will never be content until you have made the experiment. Your aunt and cousins all know about it and naturally are rather displeased, thinking it a proof that you do not value your home here as you might."

"Oh, uncle, how can they think that! I am very, very grateful for your kindness in giving me such a home for so many years; but it would be asking too much of you to keep on supporting me and my sister Nannette now when I have grown old enough to do something for myself and may hope, if I begin at once to learn to make money, that in a few years I may be able to help her and Blanche and Harry till they too are able to earn their own living. Don't you really think, uncle, that it is what is right and best for me to do?"

"That is a question we need not discuss now, since you are decided to try it," he said, looking at his watch. "Well, child, I must be off to my business now; so let me kiss you good-by, and do not forget that if you want to come back at any time, your Uncle Albert's door is always open to you--his dead brother's daughter." He took her in his arms and caressed her tenderly as he spoke.

"Dear uncle, you have always been so good, so good and kind to me!" she sobbed, clinging about his neck. "Oh, don't ever think for one minute that it's because I don't love you dearly, dearly, that I'm going away."

"No, I do not think that," he said soothingly, caressing her hair and cheek with his hand, "but if you come back soon to stay with me, I shall think that is a proof that you do love me."

"Indeed, indeed, I do!" she exclaimed earnestly, the tears coursing down her cheeks as she spoke. "And mayn't I come here to see you when I wish and can be spared from the store?"

"Certainly; and it is possible I may some day call in upon you. Give me your address."

She gave it, and he wrote it down in his notebook.

"How soon do you go?" he asked.

"I promised to be there by nine o'clock this morning," she replied.

"So soon? Well, then I think it will not be best for you to see your aunt before starting. She is not likely to be up and would not wish to be disturbed, and you will be in again soon. So just leave your good-by with the girls."

Ethel was well content with that arrangement, for she had dreaded the parting interview with Mrs. Eldon; besides she was pressed for time to finish her packing and take leave of the others.

The adieus of her cousins were very coldly spoken, and no interest shown in her new enterprise. That saddened her, though she had hardly expected anything else. But the parting with Nannette, who wept and clung to her in an almost frantic abandonment of grief and despair, was the hardest thing of all. Blanche and Harry also were much distressed over the parting, but forgot their own sorrow in efforts to soothe and comfort poor little Nannette. At last Blanche succeeded in doing so in a measure by promising that when they were out for their walk that afternoon they would all go to see Ethel in her new abode.

"Oh, yes, so you must! That's a good idea, Blanche," exclaimed Ethel. "I don't think Mrs. Baker will mind, and I shall be just as glad to see you as you will be to see me."

"But are we sure to be able to find the place?" asked Harry, standing near. "Here, I'll write it down--street and number, I mean," taking a small blank book from his pocket as he spoke, "and then we'll be sure not to forget."

"That's right, Harry," Ethel said with a faint smile. "I think you are going to make a good business man, as Uncle Albert says." She gave the requested information, then a hasty and last good-by to each and hurried away, leaving Nannette in tears, the other two looking distressed and woe-begone.

CHAPTER XVI.

Ethel left her uncle's house in tears, but before reaching her destination had wiped them away and a.s.sumed an air of determined cheerfulness. Mrs. Baker gave her a kindly reception, said she was glad to see her, hoped she would never find reason to regret having come, and bade her sit down by the stove and get well warmed before taking off her hat and sack, for it was a cold, bl.u.s.tering March day.

"We'll not be likely to have much custom to-day," she remarked presently; "it's so raw and cold out that I should think folks that have no particular call to go abroad would be likely to stay at home. Perhaps it's a good thing for us, as we'll have time to look over the bits of needlework you were telling me of. You have brought them along, I suppose?"

"I put them in my trunk," replied Ethel.

"And that's come and been carried up to your room; and when you're right warm you may bring them down, if you choose."

Ethel presently availed herself of the permission, and Mrs. Baker and her mother, Mrs. Ray, both examined the work with interest. "I think they are very handsome indeed, and shouldn't wonder if she'd find a customer for them--some of them, anyhow--directly," remarked the old lady.

"I never saw as pretty work done by one so young."

"I quite agree with you, mother, and hope she'll make a good deal on them," returned Mrs. Baker, with a pleasant smile into Ethel's face, now rosy with pleasure at their warm commendation of her work. "I advise you to keep on, Ethel, as you tell me you have been doing, using spare moments in adding to your stock, and I think you'll find it paying you well one of these days," she continued, addressing the young girl. "If you wish, I'll buy a piece of muslin for you some day soon when I'm out purchasing goods for the store. I think maybe I can get a better bargain than you could, seeing you are so young and not used, as I am, to such business; then I'll help you with the cutting out of the garments, so that they'll be ready when you can find time to work on them."

"Oh, thank you, ma'am," exclaimed Ethel, tears of grat.i.tude springing to her eyes, "you are very kind to me."

"Tut, child, I haven't done anything yet to speak of," laughed the kind-hearted woman. "But I want to do by you as I'd want anyone to do by my little Jenny, if she should ever be left fatherless and motherless, poor little soul!" glancing with moistened eyes at her four-year-old daughter, who was playing about the floor.

"Dear little thing!" Ethel said, holding out her hand to the child, who had paused in her play to look wonderingly from one to the other, "she reminds me of what my little sister Nan was when G.o.d took our father and mother to heaven."

"My papa aint gone dere," lisped the little one, gazing up into Ethel's face; "he's gone to de war to fight de rebs."

"Has he?" said Ethel; "so have two of my cousins. Oh," turning to Mrs.

Baker, "I hope this dreadful war will soon be over!"

"So do I," was the emphatic rejoinder; "or rather I wish it; things don't look so very hopeful just at present. But folks seem to think the new general may be expected to make better progress against the rebels than the others did, I think myself it's more than likely, considering what he has done out West."

"And we are all praying for him, that the Lord will give him wisdom and success with his plans, so that this awful war may come to an end, and the country be saved," said Mrs. Ray. "The men at the head of the rebellion have a great deal to answer for. They were not oppressed, but were dreadful oppressors--of the negro first, then of the whites both North and South, in order to hold on to slavery, which they found so profitable to their pockets, besides ministering to their wicked pride."

"Well, I am sure the backbone of the rebellion is broken now; they know it can't succeed, and I for one can't see how the consciences of the rebel leaders can allow them to go on with the struggle--sacrificing so many lives to no purpose," sighed Mrs. Baker. "Now, Ethel, I will show you round the store and make you acquainted with the places of the different articles we have for sale, so that you will be able to find them when called for."

"And I must go and see to household matters," her mother said, hurrying away in the direction of the kitchen.

Ethel was kept very busy all day, except for a little while in the afternoon, when Blanche came with Harry and Nannette to see her in her new quarters.

Mrs. Baker received them kindly and invited them to come again for Ethel's sake, and though some tears were shed by the three girls at parting, they all felt better contented than they had before.

As the days, weeks, and months rolled on, Ethel was more comfortable and found things going more smoothly with her at Mrs. Baker's than she had dared to hope. Waiting upon customers was not repugnant to her, she was fond of her needlework, and not averse to using the sewing-machine; though Mrs. Baker was kindly careful not to let her do too much of that last, lest she should injure her health; also she kindly contrived some errand for her every day, squares away from the store, that she might have the benefit of outdoor air and exercise.

And there were many exchanges of visits between herself and her younger sisters and brother; occasional letters from Mrs. Keith and her mother to be read and replied to, and interesting news from the seat of war, the daily papers being eagerly searched for it by Mrs. Kay, Mrs. Baker, and herself.

With what a thrill of horror they read of the awful ma.s.sacre by the savage Forrest and his troops at Fort Pillow, taken by a resort to trickery under a flag of truce; the terrible battles of the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, Cold Harbor, and others of the sanguinary conflicts of that last year of the war of the rebellion!

These divided Ethel's attention with her needlework, waiting upon customers, doing errands for Mrs. Baker, and chatting with the little ones, who were a source of entertainment, and of whom there were two boys in addition to Jenny. They were but little fellows, going to school until the summer holidays began, but full of fun and frolic when at home, and Ethel and they soon became fast friends.

One day early in the fall Ethel received a letter from Mrs. Keith, in which she told of the coming home of her husband, a paroled prisoner from Andersonville, where he had been for some time, suffering so terribly that his health seemed ruined for life. His parents and other near relatives in Indiana were anxious to see him, she added, and they had decided to go out there for some weeks, taking the children with them. She hoped the trip would prove of benefit to Mr. Keith, and that he would return home looking and feeling more as he did before going into the army, for now he was so pale and thin that it almost broke her heart to look at him and hear his sad story of the barbarous treatment he and his fellow-prisoners had received at the hands of their cruel jailors; then from that she went on to tell of the starvation, filth, exposure to the weather, and shooting down on the slightest protest, which made of Andersonville prison-pen a veritable h.e.l.l upon earth.