Sara, a Princess: The Story of a Noble Girl Part 24

Half-past one found them all at work again, and the afternoon hours were even shorter than those of the morning to all but baby, who began to grow homesick towards four o'clock, and who could not be comforted, even by the children, who were out of school at three. He wanted his "Wawa," and no one else. It was really pathetic to see how the little fellow clung to her, hiding his pretty wet eyes in her neck, and lovingly patting her shoulder, as he crooned his wordless reproaches in her ear, and Mrs. Hoffstott, looking on, thought this must indeed be a good sister to win such hearty affection, and felt her own motherly heart warm to the forlorn little orphaned brood. But, as Sara climbed the steep staircase, with the child clasped close, and opened the door of their little snuggery above, her heart was full. How had the loving Father cared for his children! Here she was, a princess indeed, in her own domain, surrounded by her loving subjects; and when she shut the door she seemed to shut out sorrow and care, for here all was peace.

How they enjoyed the nice hot supper, and the visit afterward, baby in Sara's lap, warming his pink toes before the bit of a blaze, which these chill nights of early spring demanded! Then, when the little fellow was in bed, out came the books, and all was still, as Molly hunted out lakes and rivers, Morton puzzled over fractions, and Sara revelled in Owen, ready at any moment to give her help to the younger ones.

Perhaps some dainty miss of eighteen, enjoying her first winter in "society," and counting up her bouquets and admirers after last night's party, might think it too tame an existence; but to Sara, reared amid toil, privation, and loneliness, it was a veritable bit of Eden.

It could not be expected that such a beautiful girl as Sara could cross the campus several times a day, and pa.s.s un.o.bserved by the hundreds of students who felt this to be their special stalking-ground; and finally, one morning when an unusual number of graceless young "Sophs" and "Freshes" were on guard there, she was subjected to so many stares, smiles, touchings of the hat, and half-heard remarks, that she entered the workroom with flushed cheeks and a perturbed manner which could not well escape the professor's keen eyes.

"You have walked too fast, Miss Olmstead; there is no such hurry these sunny mornings."

"It isn't that, sir; I--it is not agreeable crossing the campus."

"Ah!" with a lift of the eyebrows and a quizzical look at the lovely disturbed face before him. "I can well believe it! Well, there's a better way, if you would like to try it; at least a more secluded one,"

giving her a keen glance. "When you come down College Avenue, watch till you see a large brown house with a tower, and a porch with heavy pillars"--

"Oh, yes, sir; and a deep green lawn in front; I've often noticed it."

"Very well," smiling agreeably, "that's my home. Turn in at the carriage-drive, and follow it until you see an opening in the hedge; go through, and keep to the little foot-path; it will bring you here, for it's my own private way."

"Thank you," said Sara, "I will be very glad to use it," and seated herself at her desk in the business-like way she was acquiring, much to the professor's secret amus.e.m.e.nt.

That noon, as he sat opposite his wife at table, he said,--

"Marian, I want you to look out of the window about a quarter past one, and you will see a _rara avis_."

"Goodness! Henry, you're not having any of those horrid dinornis things brought to the house, are you?"

He laughed.

"No, my dear; this rare bird I have in mind is simply a handsome girl, who doesn't enjoy being stared at by the students,--in a word, my little helper, Miss Olmstead,--and I've told her to travel by my own cross- roads, because she comes in all of a flutter, mornings, after running the gantlet of those college scamps on the campus."

His wife gave a quick, appreciative nod. She was a pale, dark-eyed woman, with a face of rare intelligence and sweetness.

"Indeed I do want a peep at her, Henry; she's the fisher-girl with the family on her hands, that Madame Grandet told us about, isn't she?"

"Yes, the same; let me give you another croquette, wife." "No, thanks; I've sufficient. And how does she appear, very provincial?"

"Not at all, that I can see, unless to be modest as a violet, and business-like as a night-editor, be provincial. She speaks good English, and sensible, too, in a peculiarly pleasing voice, and has the most finished manners, to my notion; for she goes quietly about her affairs without fuss or remark, and says what there is to say in brief, clean words. No, she is anything but _outre_."

"Really, my dear, I never heard you praise a woman so highly before."

He smiled quietly.

"I neither praise nor dispraise, Marian; they are, with one notable exception simply out of my ken, ordinarily; but I like this little girl, where she is, unusually well."

"Be sure, then, I shall watch for her with all my eyes! Don't forget your papers, dear; oh, and turn your pockets inside out at once, please, till I see if you have any of my letters yet undelivered!"

He obeyed with a matter-of-course air, which showed this to be a common occurrence with the absent-minded scientist, and having yielded up two dainty, square missives, which he had not carried more than two days, took his departure.

An hour later Sara turned in at the designated carriage-drive, and followed its windings up near the house, then off towards the dividing hedge, never seeing two bright, interested eyes which were peering through the filmy lace curtains, and taking pleased note of her trim, erect figure in its black dress, and lovely, thoughtful face, below its plain straw hat; then pa.s.sed through the hedge, and, with all the delight of a child exploring some bit of woodland, followed the well- worn little path, which crossed a corner of the next yard, then skirted a tennis-court, wound by a rather suspicious-looking dog-kennel, then led into an unused gra.s.sy lane, reminding her so gently of home that she longed to linger; but, pressing on in her narrow way, she finally brought up before a gray stone pile, in which was a small door, and, opening it with some caution, found herself in the tiny square entry just back of the familiar cloak-room.

Professor Macon took in her pleased face at a glance.

"You liked my little by-way?" he asked.

"Immensely!" with a hearty accent. "May I always use it?"

"Most a.s.suredly!" and without more words both bent to their absorbing tasks.

CHAPTER XIV.

NEW FRIENDS, NEW DUTIES, AND A NEW LOSS.

The sale of Sara's collection to Professor Grandet brought her a neat little sum, with which she added a few much-needed articles of furniture to her rooms, making them more modern and comfortable; and through Mrs.

Hoffstott she finally succeeded in finding a trusty little girl, who was glad to come during the hours of Sara's absence to tend baby and do the left-over bits of work for the pittance she could afford to pay. Even this left a perilously small amount for the house expenses, and the clothing of the four; but the latter necessity was made easier by Madame Grandet and Miss Prue, both of whom found they had many articles too good to throw away. The latter had pressed enough of these upon Sara, during the packing, to make Molly and herself quite comfortable, for, as Miss Prue always wore black, her dresses were suitable now; and, the madame had come to the rescue with some of the professor's cast-off trousers for Morton's use.

It was one Sat.u.r.day afternoon, and Sara, consequently, at home by three o'clock, when she stood, armed with a pattern and some formidable- looking shears, about to attack a light gray pair of these, when there came a quick little "rat-tat-tat" at the door.

"Open it, Molly," she said abstractedly, thinking it might be either Kathie or Grisel; but instead of the round pink and white face and yellow braids she looked for, there appeared a tall lady, richly dressed, whose pale, fine countenance was quite unfamiliar.

The lady advanced.

"This is Miss Olmstead, I know; and I am Mrs. Macon. I have often seen you through the window at home."

Sara greeted her with a blush, and drew forward the best chair, inwardly experiencing a deep regret that she had not changed the baby's pinafore, and had kept her cutting operations in the parlor.

Mrs. Macon, however, seemed to notice neither, but praised the baby's pretty rings of hair, saying he reminded her of one of Raphael's cherubs, and asked Molly about her school, taking in, with evident amus.e.m.e.nt, the child's original answers, and little twists and tosses, till Sara could recover her equanimity, and be her own quiet self once more. Then she turned to her with some word of commendation for her laborious life, and added, with a light laugh,--

"You looked quite fierce with your great scissors as I came in. It wasn't the baby's hair you thought of cutting, I hope?" "Oh, no, indeed! I wouldn't cut his dear little curls for anything! I was trying to--to cut out some pants for Morton."

"You poor child! What a genius you must be to attempt it! Do you think you can?"

The tone of perfect _camaraderie_ seemed to drive away the last vestige of Sara's shyness.

"I have once or twice at home, but it's different here: the boys dress better, you see, and Morton's getting very particular. I've a good pattern, but I do feel a bit frightened to put my scissors into the goods."

"Of course you do," rising, and going over to the table to look at the pattern pinned carefully over the old garment. "But, my dear, couldn't you cut to better advantage by turning this a little? Here, let me show you."

With a rapid movement she unfastened and cast aside the jetted lace wrap she wore, and filling her mouth with pins, after the manner of womankind, began mumbling her explanations, as she turned and twisted the paper about, Sara, meanwhile, looking on with the earnestness of a priestess of Athene, listening to her oracle.

Months of meeting in fas.h.i.+onable parlors could not have made them so intimate as those ten minutes over that pattern, while their heads bobbed together, and their tongues ran on in unison. For when it was adjusted, Mrs. Macon insisted on superintending the cutting, and when this was satisfactorily accomplished, to the exclusion of the one worn place, and the ink-spatters, she was as elated as Sara herself.

"There! We've done it, we've done it! Now, if you only get them together right; you're sure you'll remember which is the front, and which the back, and when you st.i.tch them--where's your machine?"

"I haven't any," said Sara.