LOUISE MAKES A PRESENT
The week following Faith's visit to the fort proved rather a difficult
one for her at school. Caroline and Catherine seemed to think they had
played a fine joke, and accused her of running home when they were
waiting for her. Faith had resolved not to quarrel with them, but
apparently the sisters meant to force her into trouble, if sneering
words and ridicule could do it.
"You're an American, so you don't dare talk back," sneered Catherine
one day when Faith made no reply to the assertion that Faith had meant
to run home from the fort alone.
"Americans are not afraid," replied Faith quickly.
Catherine jumped up and down with delight at having made Faith angry.
"Oh, yes they are. My father says so. Another summer the English
soldiers are going to take all the farms, and all you rebels will be
our servants," declared Catherine.
"Another summer the Green Mountain Boys will send the English soldiers
where they will behave themselves," declared Faith. "Ethan Allen is
braver than all the men in that fort."
"I don't care what you say. We're not going to play with you any more,
are we, Caroline?" said Catherine. "You play with that horrid little
lame girl."
"She isn't horrid. She is much better than you are. She wouldn't say
or do the things you do!" responded Faith, now too angry to care what
she said, "and she is my very best friend. I wouldn't play with you
anyway. You're only Tory children," and Faith walked off with her head
lifted very proudly, feeling she had won the battle; as indeed she
had, for the sisters looked after her in silent horror.
To be called "only" Tory children was a new point of view, and for
several days they let Faith wholly alone. Then one morning they
appeared at school with the news that it would be their last
appearance there.
"We're going to Albany, and never coming back to this rough common
place," Catherine said.
"I am glad of it," Faith replied sharply; "perhaps you will learn to
be polite in Albany."
Some of the other children overheard these remarks, and a little
titter of amusement and satisfaction followed Faith's words. For the
sisters had made no effort to be friendly with their schoolmates, and
not one was sorry to see the last of them.
Faith awoke each morning hoping that her father would come that day,
but it was toward the last of November before he appeared. There had
been several light falls of snow; the ground was frozen and ice formed
along the shores of the lake. The days were growing shorter, and Mrs.
Scott had decided that it was best for Faith to come straight home
from school at night, instead of stopping in to help Louise with her
lessons. But both the little girls were pleased with the new plan that
Mrs. Scott suggested, for Louise to come home with Faith on Tuesdays
and Fridays and stay all night. Louise was learning a good deal more
than to read and write. Mrs. Scott was teaching her to sew neatly, and
Faith had taught her to knit. She was always warmly welcomed by
Donald and the two younger boys, and these visits were the bright days
of the week for Louise.
At last, when Faith had begun to think her father might not come after
all, she returned from school one night to find him waiting for her.
It was difficult to tell which of the two, father or daughter, was the
happier in the joy of seeing each other. Mr. Carew had arrived in the
early afternoon, and Aunt Prissy was now busy preparing the evening
meal and Faith and her father had the sitting-room to themselves.
There was so much to say that Faith hardly knew where to begin, after
she had listened to all her father had to tell her of her mother.
"I would have come before, but I have been waiting for Kashaqua to
come and stay with your mother," said Mr. Carew. "She appeared last
night, and will stay until I return. And your mother could have no
better protector. Kashaqua is proud enough since we proved our
confidence in her by sending you here in her charge."
Faith told him about Louise, and was surprised to see her father's
face grave and troubled. For Mr. Carew had heard of the shoemaker, and
was sure that he was an English spy, and feared that his daughter's
friendship with Faith might get the Scotts into some trouble.
"She is my dearest friend. I tell her everything," went on Faith.
"I'm afraid her father is not a friend to the settlers about here,"
replied Mr. Carew. "Be careful, dear child, that you do not mention
any of the visitors who come to your uncle's house. Your friend would
mean no harm, but if she told her father great harm might come of it,"
for Mr. Scott was doing his best to help the Americans. Messengers
from Connecticut and Massachusetts with news for the settlers came to
his house, and Mr. Scott found ways to forward their important
communications to the men on the other side of Lake Champlain.
"Aunt Prissy likes Louise; we all do," pleaded Faith; so her father
said no more, thinking that perhaps he had been overanxious.
"Your mother sent your blue beads. I expect you would have been
scolded a little for being a careless child if you had been at home,
for she found them under the settle cushion the very day you left
home," said Mr. Carew, handing Faith two small packages. "The larger
package is one that came from Esther Eldridge a few weeks ago," he
added, in answer to Faith's questioning look.
"I wonder what it can be," said Faith; but before she opened Esther's
package she had taken the blue beads from the pretty box and put them
around her neck, touching them with loving fingers, and looking down
at them with delight. Then she unfastened the wrapping of the second
package.
"Here is a letter!" she exclaimed, and began reading it. As she read
her face brightened, and at last she laughed with delight. "Oh,
father! Read it! Esther says to let you and mother read it. And she
has sent me another string of beads!" And now Faith opened the other
box, a very pretty little box of shining yellow wood with "Faith" cut
on the top, and took out another string of blue beads, so nearly like
her own that it was difficult to tell them apart.
Mr. Carew read Esther's letter. She wrote that she had lost Faith's
beads, and had been afraid to tell her. "Now I am sending you another
string that my father got on purpose. I think you were fine not to say
a word to any one about how horrid I was to ask for your beads.
Please let your mother and father read this letter, so they will know
how polite you were to company."
"So it was Esther who lost the beads! Well, now what are you going to
do with two strings of beads?" said her father smilingly.
When Aunt Prissy came into the room Faith ran to show her Esther's
present and the letter, and told her of what had happened when she had
so rashly promised to give Esther anything she might ask for. "I am so
glad to have my own beads back again. And most of all I am glad not to
have the secret," she said, thinking to herself that life was much
happier when father and mother and Aunt Prissy could know everything
that she knew. Then, suddenly, Faith recalled the fort, and the
difficult climb down the cliff. "But that's not my secret. It's
something outside. Something that I ought not to tell," she thought,
with a little sense of satisfaction.
"But which string of beads did Esther send you? I can't tell them
apart," she heard Aunt Prissy say laughingly.
When the time came for Mr. Carew to start for home Faith was sure
that she wanted to go home with him. And it was only when her father
had promised to come after her early in March, "or as soon as March
stirs the fire, and gives a good warm day," he said, that Faith could
be reconciled and persuaded to let him go without her. She was glad
indeed that it was a Tuesday, and that Louise would come to stay all
night. Faith was eager to tell Louise the story of the blue beads, and
to show her those Esther had sent, and those that Aunt Prissy had
given her. Faith was sure that she herself could tell the beads apart,
and equally sure that no one else could do so.
Louise was waiting at the gate when Faith came from school. At the
first sight of her Faith was hardly sure that it was Louise; for the
little girl at the gate had on a beautiful fur coat. It was made of
otter skins, brown and soft. On her head was a cap of the same fur;
and, as Faith came close, she saw that Louise wore fur mittens.
"Oh, Louise! Your coat is splendid," she exclaimed. "And you look so
pretty in it; and the cap and mittens." And Faith looked at Louise,
smiling with delighted admiration.
Louise nodded happily. "My father sent to Albany for them. A man
brought them last night," she said. "You do truly like them?" she
questioned, a little anxiously.
"Of course! Any girl would think they were beautiful. Aunt Prissy will
be just as glad as I am," declared Faith. "What's in that big bundle?"
she added, as Louise lifted a big bundle from beside the gate.
But if Louise heard she made no reply, and when Faith offered to carry
the package she shook her head laughingly. Faith thought it might be
something that Louise wanted to work on that evening, and was so
intent on telling of her father's visit, the blue beads, and the
promised visit to her own dear home in March, that she did not really
give much thought to the package.
Aunt Prissy was at the window watching for the girls, with the three
little boys about her. They all came to the door, and Aunt Prissy
exclaimed, just as Faith had done, over the beauty of Louise's new
possessions. "But what is in that big bundle, Louise?" she asked, when
the little lame girl had taken off coat, cap and mittens, and stood
smiling up at her good friend.
"Once you said to me that a present was something that any one ought
to be very happy to receive," she said.
"Yes, I remember. And I know you are happy over your father's gift,"
replied Mrs. Scott.
Louise nodded, and began unwrapping the bundle.
"This is my present to Faith," she said, struggling to untie the heavy
string.
"Let me, Louise; let me," and Donald was down on his knees and in a
moment the bundle was opened, and Donald exclaimed:
"My! It's a coat exactly like Louise's."
"There's a cap too, and mittens," said Louise eagerly. "Do try it on."
Donald stood holding the coat; and Faith, as excited and happy as
Louise, slipped on the coat, put the cap on her head and held out her
hands for the mittens.
"Oh, Louise! They are lovely. I may keep them, mayn't I, Aunt Prissy?"
she asked, turning about for her aunt to see how nicely the coat
fitted.
Neither of the little girls noticed that Mrs. Scott looked grave and a
little troubled, for she was thinking that this was almost too fine a
present for her little niece to accept from the shoemaker's daughter.
But she knew that to refuse to let Faith accept it would not only make
both the girls very unhappy, but that Mr. Trent would forbid Louise
coming to the house, and so stop all her friendly efforts to help
Louise; so she added her thanks to those of Faith, and the two little
friends were as happy as it is possible to be over giving and
receiving a beautiful gift. Faith even forgot her blue beads in the
pleasure of possessing the pretty coat and cap.