"I HAD A LITTLE HUSBAND NO BIGGER THAN MY THUMB"
"Aunt Nance, what's the use you ain't got no husband an' baby children?"
Mildred always said use instead of reason.
"Lots of reasons!" answered Nance, smiling at her little companion.
Mildred had moved herself and all her belongings into the guest-chamber.
Her mother had at first objected, but when she found it made Nance happy
to have the child with her, she gave her consent.
"Ain't no husbands come along wantin' you?"
"That is one of the reasons."
"I'm going to make Dodo marry you when he gets some teeth."
"Thank you, darling! Dodo would make a dear little husband."
"Dodo wouldn't never say nothin' mean to you. He's got more disposition
than any baby in the family."
"I am sure he wouldn't," said Nance, trying to count the stitches as she
neatly turned the heel of the grey sock she was knitting. Nance was
always knitting in those days.
"'Cose if I kin get you a husband a little teensy weensy bit taller than
Dodo, I'll let you know."
"Fine! But Dodo will grow."
"Maybe you'll make out to shrink up some. Katy kin shrink you. My muvver
said Katy kin shrink up anything. She done shrinked up Dodo's little
shirts jes' big enough for my dolly. I's jes' crazy 'bout Katy. I'm
gonter ask her kin she shrink you up no bigger'n Dodo an' then won't you
be cunning? You can look jes' like you look now only teensy weensy
little. Your little feet'll be so long, not great big ones like mine,
an' your little hands will be 'bout as big as my little fingers
an'--an'--you kin knit little bits of baby socks an' I kin take you out
ridin' in my little doll-baby carriage, all tucked in nice."
"But then I'll be too little to marry Dodo. You won't trust your doll to
Dodo, and if I'm so teensy maybe he might break me."
"Well, then, I guess Katy'll have to stretch you some. She done
stretched the shirt mos' a mile."
"What do you say to taking a little walk?"
"I say: 'Glory be!' That's what Kizzie, our cook, says when she's
happy."
"Shall we take Dodo out in his carriage?"
"If I can put my dolly in, too!"
Dodo was awake and pleased to be included in this outing, if gurglings
and splutterings were an indication of happiness. He and the doll were
tucked safely in. Katy, who had been longing for the time to come when
she could scrub the nursery, was delighted to be relieved of her charge
for the time being.
"Where shall we walk?" asked Nance.
"Down by the lake! My dolly ain't never seed the lake yet. They's a
little blue boat down there what my papa, the 'fessor, done say he
gonter set sail in some day. He say he gonter go way out in the middle
of the lake where th' ain't no little girls with curls to come tickle
his nose in the morning. My papa is kind and good, but he sho' do hate
to have his nose tickled with curls early in the morning."
The lake! How many memories it brought back to Nance! The blue boat
might be the same one in which Judy Kean had her memorable midnight
jaunt, or was it a canoe? Nance smiled at the picture that arose in her
mind's eye. It was their Junior year and Judy had gone off in a fit of
jealousy and rage, and when she came to herself she was out in the
middle of the lake while Molly and Nance rowed frantically after her.
What a time they had covering their tracks to keep Judy from being found
out and perhaps even expelled! Nance laughed aloud.
The sun was warm on that day in late March, almost like a southern sun.
Dodo, lazy baby, had slipped from his sitting posture and lay flat on
his back. He had the same characteristics as Mildred's doll baby: the
moment he lay down his eyes closed.
"Oh, what a sleepy husband I have got!" cried Nance. "Let's camp out
here, darling. I brought my knitting and while my little husband
sleeps----"
"And my doll baby, too!"
"You can play in that nice clean sand. Don't go too close to the water."
There was a stretch of beach at that side of the lake where a small pier
had been built for a boat-landing. The sand was fine and white, a most
delectable medium for houses or pies, whatever the young sculptor wished
to create.
Nance seated herself on a nice warm rock while her little companion
busied herself collecting pebbles for the castle she contemplated
building. The sock grew under the girl's skillful fingers while her
thoughts were miles away from the poor soldier whose foot it was
destined to cover. Dodo snoozed peacefully and no doubt the doll did,
too.
"Look! Look! Aunt Nance, I've done found some kitty flowers!" cried
Mildred, rushing to Nance with a switch of willow catkins she had found
growing near the water's edge.
"'I had a little pussy
Her coat was silver grey.
She lived down in the meadow,
She never ran away.
"'Her name was always Pussy,
She never was a cat.
'Cause she was a Pussy-Willow.
Now what do you think of that?'"
sang Nance. "Now let me teach you that nice verse so you can say it to
your father."
Mildred obediently learned the poetry in so short a time that her
teacher marveled at her cleverness and good memory.
"Now, darling, you mustn't go quite so close to the water again. Aunt
Nance will gather a big armful of the pussy-willows to take back to
Mother, but you might get your little tootsies wet if you go too close
to the edge. Then I'll have to put you in the carriage with my husband
and run home every step of the way."
Mildred trotted off with assurances of caution. Nance settled herself to
her knitting and her thoughts. What a boon this universal knitting has
become to women who want to think and be busy at the same time! The
girl's thoughts were centered on herself. What was she to do with her
life? The desire to teach had left her with the years she had spent
nursing her father and mother. United States was on the verge of
war--any moment it might be declared. That would mean the women of the
land would be in demand just as they had been in Europe. There would be
work to do, but what was her share to be?
This little breathing time with Molly was very sweet, but it could not
go on forever. The time would come when she must take up life again. Her
unruly thoughts would dwell on how different things would have been had
Andy McLean not shown himself so unreasonable. She might have gone to
the front with him. There was work in the hospitals in France for others
besides trained nurses, lots of work! Cooking, cleaning, sewing, peeling
potatoes, scrubbing floors--nothing was too menial for her. It would
have been sweet to work near Andy, shoulder to shoulder in spirit even
if he would happen to be the surgeon in charge and she a poor scrub
girl. She might have been taking care of some of the war orphans.
Minding little babies was her long suit, it seemed. A big tear gathered
and spilled on the toe of the sock that was being so neatly finished
off.
A shrill scream broke on the still air.
"I'm a-sinkin'! I'm a-sinkin'!"
"Mildred!" cried Nance, jumping to her feet.
"Never mind, nurse, I'll go after her," said a stern voice from behind
her. "You had better look after your other charge," in a tone which made
no attempt to veil its sarcasm.
Dodo had awakened and was sitting up in the carriage reaching for the
willow catkins. His position was precarious, as one more inch might have
sent him headlong in the sand.
Nance dropped her knitting and grabbed the venturesome baby while the
stern voice materialized into a tall grey figure with sandy hair who ran
towards the water's edge, skinning out of his coat and vest as he ran
and in some miraculous way also divesting himself of his shoes. His hat
he had already hurled at Nance's feet.
Mildred had walked out on the little pier and decided that she would get
in the pretty blue boat that her father considered such a safe refuge
from tickling curls. It was bobbing about most invitingly in easy
stepping distance.
"Won't Aunt Nance be 'stonished?" the child had said to herself. "She's
gonter holler out: 'M-i-i-l-dred! Where you Mi--ldred baby?' an' I
gonter lay low an' keep on a-sayin' nothin'."
She put out her little foot and set it firmly on the bow of the boat
that was almost grazing the edge of the landing.
"My legs is a-gettin' mos' long enough to step up to the moon an'
stars," she boasted.
But how strangely boats behaved! This one did not stay still as she had
expected but ran away from her. Her legs had not grown nearly so long
as she had thought and they refused to grow another bit. The boat
got farther and farther away and the horrid little pier seemed to be
moving, too, and in the opposite direction. The time came when Mildred
must choose between land and water. She decided to stay on shore and
with a mighty effort jerked her little foot from the unsteady blue boat.
Three years going on four is not a period of great equilibrium. Fate
took matters out of Mildred's hands and kersplash! she went in the cold
waters of the lake. It was not very deep so close to the shore, but
neither was the little girl so very tall. By standing on her tiptoes she
might have managed to keep her inquisitive nose out of the water, but
the naughty blue boat came swinging back to her rescue and she clutched
first the painter and then the side of the boat, screaming lustily as
she clung.
The grey figure with the sandy hair ran lightly along the pier and with
one swoop gathered the child up into his arms. He might have saved
himself the trouble of taking off his coat and shoes, but he had seen
the child as she fell in the water and did not know what would be
required of him as life saver. Mildred was sobbing dolefully as she
buried her wet curls in the neck of her rescuer.
"Your nurse should have looked after you," he muttered.
"She had her husband to 'tend to," said Mildred, "an' I was a-keepin'
keer of myself. 'Sides she ain't my nurse but my 'loved aunty."
"Oh! And who may you be?"
"I'm Mildred Carbuncle Green." The family name of Molly's mother, which
was Carmichael, was thus perverted by this scion of the race.
"And your aunt's name?" asked the young man as he picked up his
discarded coat and wrapped it around his burden.
"She's Aunt Nance----"
"Nance Oldham!" and he almost dropped little Mildred. "And you say she
was busy with her husband?"
"Yessir! He keeps her busy mos' of the time."
The rescue and this conversation had taken but a moment. In the
meantime, poor Nance had shoved her little husband back in the carriage
and was rapidly wheeling him towards the scene of disaster.
She had recognized Andy McLean in the tall grey figure and sandy hair.
The moment he had spoken to her so sternly she had known it was he. At
that moment she envied no creature in the world so much as an ostrich.
If she could only bury her head in the sand. Why should Fate be so cruel
to her? Why should Andy McLean come back on her horizon at that moment
when she was neglecting her duty? But then, she reflected, if he had not
come back at that psychological moment either Mildred would have drowned
or Dodo broken his neck. She could not have rescued both of them at
once. Indeed, both of them might have been killed! The fact that the
water was shallow and Mildred could have walked out of it was no comfort
to Nance, nor did it allay her suffering and self-reproaches in the
least to know that almost every baby that has grown to manhood has at
one time or another fallen out of his carriage or bed, down the steps or
even out of the window.
Andy McLean, too, was going through some uncomfortable moments as he
held the dripping child close in his arms and made his way across the
beach to Nance. There had never been a moment since he and Nance had
parted that he had not regretted his hasty words; but what good were
regrets? Nance could not have cared for him or she would have felt that
at her father's death he was the person to whom she must turn instead of
that Dr. Flint. As far as he could see, there was no reason under Heaven
why Nance should not have married him immediately. He knew nothing
of her mother's determination to give up her public life nor of her
decision to remain at home for Nance to nurse. He had not yet learned of
Mrs. Oldham's death, as he had arrived at Wellington only the evening
before, and Mrs. McLean, with a wisdom sometimes granted mothers, had
not mentioned Nance's name to him, much less the fact that she was even
then visiting the Greens.
"Married! and so engrossed with her husband that she let little children
entrusted to her care fall in the water and almost fall out of baby
carriages! But where is the--the--cad?" was what Andy was thinking as he
approached the frantic Nance, who was pushing the carriage as for dear
life through the heavy sand.
"Mildred! Mildred! You promised not to go near the water's edge!"
"I never went near it but jes' ran out on the little wooden street. I
wasn't goin' to be naughty. I knowed I might get my feet wet down by the
edge so I walked on the planks. I never done nothin' nor nothin'! 'Twas
the bad little blue boat what wobbled."
Nance and Andy both laughed at the amusing child. The laugh made matters
easier for them.
Brown eyes looked into blue and then such a blush o'erspread their
countenances that a day's fishing under a summer sun could not have
accomplished.
"You had better put her in the carriage--it is warm there and I can
carry Dodo."
"No, I will keep her wrapped in my coat. That will be better."
"But you--you might be cold."
"Not at all! I never catch cold," shortly.
Nance remembered otherwise, but there was nothing to do but turn and
wheel the baby back to the house on the campus.
"I--you must think--I know I was careless to let such an accident happen
to my charges. I have no excuse--I was just thinking!"
"About your husband, I fancy!"
Again Nance's cheeks were crimson, remembering only too well what her
thoughts had been as she sat in the sand knitting.
"I----"
"Mildred told me about him," said Andy grimly.
"Did she?" laughed Nance, thinking that Andy was speaking of Dodo, of
course. "He is a darling husband."
"Humph!" They walked on in silence, Andy taking great strides with
Mildred clasped closely in his arms, while Nance wheeled the baby
carriage, almost running to keep up.
"I don't know what to call you," said Andy at last.
"Call me? Why, call me Nance! Why not? My name is still Nance no matter
what has happened."
"I--I--perhaps he wouldn't like it."
"Who?"
"Your husband! Is it Flint?"
"Andy McLean, you are a fool! There is no other word for you!" and Nance
grabbed Dodo from his carriage and ran up the steps, thankful that they
had arrived at the Square Deal.
"If not Flint, who?" muttered Andy under his breath. "I am going to stay
here until I find out."
Molly was not at home to receive her wet daughter. Nance and Katy rubbed
her down and dressed her while Andy waited miserably in the library. Why
had his mother not warned him that Nance Oldham was in Wellington? They
had had a long talk and she had told him news of all their old friends.
Molly and Edwin had been mentioned again and again but the fact that
they had a guest had been kept dark. He had never talked to his mother
about his break with Nance. A certain reticence in his make-up withheld
him. Many times he had longed to put his head in her lap and tell her
all about it.
A great intimacy existed between Mrs. McLean and this only child, but
instead of his being like a daughter to her, as is the case sometimes
with a woman and an only child when that child happens to be a son, this
worthy mother had adjusted herself more into the relationship of an
elder brother to Andy. There were few if any subjects they could not
discuss together, but somehow he could not bring himself to tell her of
Nance. She had known they were engaged--that was easy to tell, and she
knew the engagement was no more--that was all. Mrs. McLean bided her
time.
"They are young yet," she had said to her husband. "Some
misunderstanding has come up, but if they are really meant for one
another it will be explained away. If they can't forgive, then they
are not suited for mating."
The good woman had been delighted beyond measure that Nance should be in
Wellington while her son was on his farewell visit to her, and she had
devoutly prayed that they might meet by chance, just as they had. Of
course she had not stipulated in her prayers that Andy should mistake
Nance for the Greens' nurse and reprimand her for carelessness; and then
fish Mildred out of the water; and get Dodo and the hated Dr. Flint
hopelessly mixed, and be called a fool for his blunder!