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THE CHILDREN ON THE TOP FLOOR
BOOKS BY NINA RHOADES
"The Brick House Series"
ONLY DOLLIE
Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson
New cover design. Large 12mo Cloth $1.00
THE LITTLE GIRL NEXT DOOR
Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson
Large 12mo Cloth $1.00
WINIFRED'S NEIGHBORS
Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson
Large 12mo Cloth $1.00
THE CHILDREN ON THE TOP FLOOR
Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson
Large 12mo Cloth $1.00
HOW BARBARA KEPT HER PROMISE
Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson
Large 12mo Cloth $1.00
LITTLE MISS ROSAMOND
Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson
Large 12mo Cloth $1.00
PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP
Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson
Large 12mo Cloth $1.00
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
BOSTON
[Illustration: The next hour passed very pleasantly.--_Page 144._]
THE
CHILDREN ON THE TOP FLOOR
BY
NINA RHOADES
Author of "Only Dollie," "The Little Girl Next Door," and
"Winifred's Neighbors"
_ILLUSTRATED BY BERTHA G. DAVIDSON_
BOSTON
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
Copyright, 1904, by Lee and Shepard
_All rights reserved_
The Children on the Top Floor
Published August, 1904.
Norwood Press
Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass.
U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A Mishap and Its Consequences 7
II. Betty's Temptation 20
III. Winifred's Thank Offering 34
IV. Gathering Clouds 48
V. Winifred to the Rescue 65
VI. Friends in Need 80
VII. A Chance for Jack 93
VIII. The Doctor's Verdict 105
IX. Suspense 115
X. A Letter and a Surprise 124
XI. At Navesink 140
XII. Drifting 153
XIII. "His Lordship" 171
XIV. Jack's New Friend 180
XV. Something Happens 196
XVI. Uncle Jack 211
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
The next hour passed very pleasantly.
_(Frontispiece)_. 144
Little Betty Randall gazing disconsolately
down on the debris of her three cream cakes, 10
Betty found them all laughing heartily over
"My Grandmother's Cat" 94
What a delightful afternoon that was! 111
That sail down the bay was a new and very
delightful experience 136
"There aren't any oars, and we're drifting" 159
"It is very good," said Lord Carresford 189
"I'm the happiest boy in the world," said
Jack 219
THE CHILDREN ON THE TOP FLOOR
CHAPTER I
A MISHAP AND ITS CONSEQUENCES
"Will you please let me have two cream cakes?"
The young woman behind the counter of the small bakery glanced kindly at
the maker of this request, a little girl in a rather neat-looking dress,
with a dark, earnest face and a pair of big, solemn brown eyes.
"They're nice and fresh to-day," she remarked pleasantly; "they came out
of the oven only an hour ago."
The customer smiled.
"I'm glad," she said; "my little brother is very fond of cream cakes."
"And how is your little brother to-day?" the woman questioned, at the
same time selecting three large, fat cream cakes from the heaped up
dish on the counter.
"He's pretty well, thank you. Oh, excuse me, but you're giving me three;
I only asked for two."
"Never mind about that, it's all right. Too bad your little brother
can't get out these fine spring days, isn't it?"
A troubled, wistful look came into the child's face.
"He would like to get out," she said sadly; "I wish he could."
"Yes, indeed, I don't wonder; it's just grand in the park these warm
afternoons. My two little boys about live there. If you could take him
out for a drive sometimes, it would do him a lot of good, I'm sure."
Before the child could answer, the door of the bakery opened, and two
more customers, a lady and a little girl of nine or ten, came in.
"Well, Winnie," said the lady smiling, as they approached the counter,
"have you decided which it is to be to-day, macaroons or chocolate
eclairs?"
"I think it had better be eclairs to-day, we had macaroons three times
last week," the little girl said, laughing, and glancing with an
expression of interest at the first customer, who had now received her
package, and was turning to leave the store. "Oh, mother," she added
eagerly, as the door closed, "did you see? that's the little girl who
lives in our house."
"Was it really?" the lady inquired, looking interested in her turn; "I
didn't notice her."
"Oh, yes, I'm quite sure; I've seen her several times on the stairs, you
know. I wish she hadn't gone so quick; I should have liked to speak to
her. It seems so queer not to know a person who lives in the same house
that you do, doesn't it?"
"And a very nice little girl she is too," put in the young woman behind
the counter, glad of an opportunity to say a good word for one of her
favorite customers. "She often comes in here, and we serve the family
with bread. They live in the apartment house on the corner."
"That's where we live," said Winifred; "do you know what the little
girl's name is?"
"Yes; it's Randall, Betty Randall; she told me so herself the other day.
Her mother's a very handsome lady, quite stylish-looking, though I
believe she gives lessons of some kind. She's a widow, with two
children, this one and a little boy, who is a cripple. It's my opinion
they've seen better days. Shall I send these things, ma'am, or will you
take them with you?"
"I will take them, thank you. Come, Winifred."
"Mother," said Winifred, as they left the bakery, "I really do wish I
knew that little girl. She has a very nice face, and if her brother is a
cripple, I might go and read to him sometimes. You know I'm very fond of
cripples."
The lady laughed.
"Well, you may speak to the child, if you like," she said kindly. "I
scarcely know whether it would do for you to call on the family. You
see, dear, a great many people live in that big apartment house, and
they may not all be desirable friends for you. But look, isn't that the
very child you are talking about? Yes, to be sure it is, and she seems
to be in trouble. She must have had a fall."
A moment later little Betty Randall, standing in the middle of the
sidewalk, gazing disconsolately down on the debris of her three cream
cakes, which lay crushed and shapeless at her feet, was startled to hear
a sweet, sympathetic voice saying close to her side:
"I'm sorry; how did it happen?"
"I slipped on a piece of orange peel," explained little Betty, at
once recognizing the lady and little girl she had seen at the baker's,
"and fell right on my bag of cream cakes. They're all spoiled."
[Illustration: Little Betty Randall gazing disconsolately down on the
debris of her three cream cakes.--_Page 10._]
"It's too bad, but hadn't you better go back for some more?" the lady
suggested pleasantly.
Betty hesitated, and her color rose.
"I think not to-day," she said a little primly; "mother might not like
it. I don't mind about myself," she added quickly, "but I'm sorry for
Jack; he's very fond of cream cakes."
"Is Jack your little brother?" Winifred asked.
"Yes; how did you know I had a little brother?"
"The woman at the baker's said so, and she said he was a cripple."
Betty's face softened wonderfully. By this time they had abandoned the
cream cakes to their fate, and were all three walking on together
towards the big apartment house on the next corner.
"Yes, he is a cripple," she said; "he can't walk at all. He had a fall
when he was a baby, and it hurt his spine."
"How very sad," said Winifred sympathetically; "how did it happen?"
"His nurse dropped him one day when mother and father were out. She
didn't tell at first, and nobody knew what was the matter with Jack,
and what made him cry whenever any one touched him. At last the doctor
found out that his spine was injured, and then she confessed."
"How old is he now?" Winifred inquired.
"He will be nine the day after to-morrow, but he seems older than that.
He's a very clever little boy; he reads a great deal, and he can draw
beautiful pictures. Mother thinks it's because he is so much by himself
that he gets to be so old-fashioned. I'm eleven, but I'm not nearly so
clever as Jack."
"I suppose you are very fond of him," said Winifred. "A person would
naturally be very fond of a brother who is a cripple."
"I love him better than anything else in the world," said Betty simply.
At that moment the apartment house was reached.
"Isn't it strange that we live in the same house and never spoke to each
other before?" remarked Winifred, as they mounted the first flight of
stairs together. "We haven't lived here very long, though; only since
January."
"We have lived here for two years," said Betty, "and we don't know any
of the people in the house."
Winifred's eyes opened wide in surprise, but they were already on the
first landing, and her mother had rung the bell of their own apartment.
"Good-bye," she said, "this is where we live. I hope I shall see you
again soon."
Betty stood for a moment gazing at the closed door, behind which her new
acquaintances had disappeared, and then she toiled on, up three more
long steep flights of stairs, until, on the very top landing of all, she
paused, and taking a key from her pocket, proceeded to open a door on
her right.
"Is that you, Betty?" called an eager little voice, as the door swung
open, and Betty passed into the small, narrow hall of the "top floor
rear apartment."
"Yes, dear; but, oh, Jack, I'm so sorry; I slipped on a horrid piece of
orange peel and spilled all the cream cakes. It'll have to be cold meat
and bread and butter to-day."
"You didn't hurt yourself, did you?" the anxious little voice inquired.
"Oh, no, not a bit, and quite an interesting thing happened. Just wait
till I take off my hat, and get your lunch ready, and I'll tell you all
about it."
Five minutes later, Betty, her little dark face somewhat flushed from
recent exertions, but looking, on the whole, very bright and happy,
entered the small front room, bearing a tray containing milk, cold
meat, and a pile of thin bread-and-butter sandwiches.
"I'll put it on the little table, and we can have lunch together," she
said cheerfully. "See what a lot of sandwiches mother's made for us."
As she spoke, Betty drew a small table close to the sofa on which lay
the little cripple. Jack watched her every movement with loving eyes.
Such a pale, wan face as it was; such a poor, shrunken little body! But
it was not a dull face, and the large, beautiful blue eyes had a bright,
glad light in them, despite the fact that their owner spent all his poor
life confined to a sofa.
"Now tell me about the interesting thing," Jack said, when Betty, having
completed her arrangements, had seated herself by his side, prepared to
enjoy the cold meat and bread and butter.
"Yes, I will. It isn't very much, though, only when I was at the baker's
who should happen to come in but the lady and the little girl who live
down on the second floor. You know, I told you about that little girl,
how pretty she was, and how she and her mother were always together.
I've seen her mother taking her to school ever so many mornings, and I
think she was on her way home from school now, for she carried books.
Well, I got my cream cakes--they were lovely ones too, and the woman
gave me three, though I only asked for two--and I was hurrying home as
fast as I could, when all of a sudden I slipped on that old orange peel,
and fell flat. My bag burst open, and of course the cream cakes were all
squashed. I got up, and was standing looking at my poor cream cakes, and
feeling so dreadfully sorry, when the lady and the little girl stopped
to speak to me. They were ever so kind. The lady said I had better go
back to the store for more, but I didn't have money enough for that, you
know."
"You didn't say so, did you?" Jack questioned anxiously.
"Of course I didn't. I just said I thought I wouldn't go back to-day,
and then we all walked home together, and the little girl asked me about
you."
"What did you tell her?"
"Oh, I said you were a very clever boy, and--why, there's the door bell;
I wonder who it can be?"
"Perhaps it's mother come home early," Jack suggested, his pale little
face brightening; "perhaps one of her pupils didn't take a lesson,
or----"
But Betty did not hear. She was already halfway across the little hall,
and in another moment was standing with the open door in her hand,
gazing in surprise at the neat, pleasant-faced servant girl who
confronted her. The girl held in her hand a plate covered with a napkin.
"Is this Miss Betty Randall?" the stranger inquired, smiling.
"Yes," said Betty, in growing bewilderment. She was sure she had never
seen the girl before.
"Well, here are some eclairs for you. Miss Winifred Hamilton sends them
to you and your little brother, and hopes you'll both enjoy them."
And before Betty could recover sufficiently from her surprise to utter a
word of either thanks or protest, the plate was in her hands, and the
servant girl was hurrying away downstairs.
It was with a very bright face, however, that the little girl came
running back into the sitting room, in answer to Jack's eager "What is
it, Betty?"
"It's eclairs, four beautiful chocolate eclairs," she explained
joyfully, "and the nice little girl downstairs has sent them to us.
"She just bought them too, for I heard her mother asking her at the
baker's whether it was to be eclairs or macaroons, and she said eclairs.
Wasn't it kind of her to send them? You do like chocolate eclairs very
much, don't you, Jack, dear?"
"I love them," said Jack heartily, "but, Betty, do you suppose mother
would like it?"
Betty's bright face clouded, but only for a moment.
"I don't believe she'd mind," she said with decision. "You see, things
to eat aren't like money, and I think it would be rude not to take them
when the little girl was so kind."
Jack acquiesced in this view of the matter, and the two children were
soon in the full enjoyment of their unexpected treat.
"Her name is Hamilton, Winifred Hamilton," remarked Betty, poising a
delicious morsel on her fork as she spoke, "and she knows my name too.
The maid asked if I wasn't Miss Betty Randall. She is such a pretty
little girl, Jack; her hair is all fluffy and crimpy round her face, and
she's got beautiful eyes."
"I wish I could see her," said Jack wistfully; "do you suppose she would
come up here if you asked her?"
"I shouldn't wonder," said Betty hopefully; "she said she was very much
interested in cripples."
Jack made an impatient movement, and a look of pain crossed his face.
"I wish I wasn't a cripple," he said, his lip beginning to tremble; "I
wish I could get up and walk like other people. I want to see things."
Betty laid down her fork, and a look of sympathy and almost womanly
tenderness came into her eyes.
"What kind of things do you want to see, Jack?" she asked gently.
"Oh, I don't know; all kinds of things. I get so tired looking out of
the window at roofs and chimneys. I should like to see a park with deer
in it, and swans and a peacock, like the one mother tells about."
"But you couldn't see that park, you know, dear, because that was in
England, away across the Atlantic Ocean."
"Well, but there is a park here, too, isn't there? I heard Mrs. Flynn
talking about it the other day. She said it was beautiful in the park
now, with all the flowers coming out."
"Oh, yes, there's Central Park, and it is very pretty, but not so pretty
as the one mother tells about."
Jack's face brightened again.
"Couldn't I go there some time?" he asked eagerly; "is it too far for
any one to carry me?"
Betty shook her head sadly.
"I'm afraid it's too far for that," she admitted, "but if we only had a
carriage you could go. The janitor would carry you downstairs, I know,
and it wouldn't be a long drive. I don't believe it would hurt your back
one bit. I'll tell you what, Jack. Day after to-morrow will be your
birthday; let's ask mother to hire a carriage, and take us both."
Betty's eyes were sparkling with the sudden inspiration, but now it was
Jack's turn to shake his head and look dubious.
"I'm afraid it would cost too much," he said mournfully; "I should love
it, but I'm really afraid it would."
"I don't believe it would be so very expensive," said hopeful Betty.
"There's a livery stable right across the street, and I'll go over this
afternoon and find out how much it costs. I've got a dollar and five
cents in my bank; I counted it last night, and mother says it's all
mine, to do just what I please with. Oh, Jack, dear, I'm sure it can't
cost more than a dollar, and I should just love to get it for your
birthday present. I wonder why we were all so stupid as never to have
thought of doing it before."