CHAPTER II

THREE CHUMS

"Why, how delightful, Henry," cried Mrs. Hamilton, as she finished

reading a letter which her husband had just handed to her. "Of

course we want the little girl to come at once."

"Of course," agreed Mr. Hamilton with equal heartiness. "It will

be nice to have a little daughter around the house to bring me my

slippers and play and sing to me when I am tired. But what will

Arthur think of it?" inquired Mr. Hamilton with a note of anxiety

in his voice.

"I hadn't thought of that," answered his wife, her bright face

clouding. "I dare say he won't like it at all, but I don't see that

we can let him decide it. Perhaps it may do him good in the end."

"Well, I shall leave you to settle it with him," said Mr. Hamilton

rising from the table. "For some reason nothing I say seems to make

much of an impression on him nowadays."

"I must say that I get dreadfully discouraged, too," confessed his

wife. "He is so hopelessly indifferent to everything he used to

like; he utterly refuses to see one of the boys or girls, and he

sits for hours at a time doing absolutely nothing. I can see that

the doctor is really anxious about him," she continued.

"Keep up your courage, dear," said Mr. Hamilton with more cheerfulness

than he felt. "Perhaps we shall find a way out of it soon."

"I'll go up now and tell Arthur about Ruth," said Mrs. Hamilton as

she said goodbye to her husband in the hall. "That will give him

something to think of, whether he likes the prospect or not."

As Mrs. Hamilton entered the little sitting-room which used to be

the pride of her son's heart, it was so full of warmth and light

and brightness that, for a moment, in spite of herself, she felt

as if she must see the cheery boy of six months before. Everything

so suggested him, and it was so clearly the room of a boy who loved

all kinds of outdoor exercise. A pair of tennis racquets crossed

on the wall had evidently resigned their place for the time being

to the golf clubs which stood in one comer. A couple of paddles

occupied another comer, and rigged on the wall near the door was

a complicated arrangement of ropes, pulleys and weights designed

to exercise every muscle in the human body. Mrs. Hamilton sighed

involuntarily as her eye rested on a silver cup which stood proudly

on the centre table, a mute witness to the prowess of its owner.

It was the prize for a hundred yard dash in which Arthur had borne

off the honors.

"He'll never be able to do that again, poor laddie," she said to

herself, as she waited a moment to brush the tears from her eyes

before opening the door into the next room.

"Good-morning, dear boy," she said brightly, as she entered a room

which seemed doubly gloomy to her after the brightness of the one

she had left. "You should provide a boy with a torch so that your

visitors can see to get across the room. What ho! have I found you

at last?" she continued, as she took her son's hand in a tender

grasp and gave him a good-morning kiss.

"Do let's have some sunshine, Arthur," she said, putting up the

curtain and letting in a flood of light. "There, now I feel more

at home. Why don't you get the benefit of the morning sunshine?"

"I don't like to look out just at this time in the morning, mother,"

he answered briefly.

Mrs. Hamilton understood in a flash, for just as they were speaking

a gay group of boys and girls had passed the window, and Arthur,

who had turned involuntarily to look at them, had closed his eyes

quickly as though to shut out the pleasant sight.

"Dr. Holland says you may begin to study again, now, Arthur," said

his mother cheerfully, "and it seems to me you might be ready for

college next fall if you do a little every day. You may have a

tutor any time you are ready."

"What's the use?" answered Arthur languidly. "I can't do anything

in athletics with this confounded leg, and I don't want to go there

just to limp around and grind."

"My dear boy, college training is occasionally useful in the way of

improving one's mind as well as muscles," said Mrs. Hamilton with

mild sarcasm. "Dear, don't think I am unsympathetic," she added

quickly as her son. frowned impatiently. "I realize, in part, at

least, what it must be to you to give up your dreams of athletic

glory; but I know, too, that no one else can fight this battle for

you. You've got to face the question squarely, and I have faith

that you will come out a conqueror if you put your best self into

the effort."

"Mother, you don't begin to know," said Arthur slowly, "what this

means to me. It's not alone giving up the athletics, though that's

hard enough, but it's the sensitiveness I feel about letting any

one see that I'm lame. I believe I was rather proud before," he

continued with a faint smile, "because I was straight and strong

and could almost always beat the other boys at any game we tried;

I know it always seemed to me the most dreadful thing in the world

to be crippled in any way, and now I've got to hop around with a

crutch all the rest of my life. Oh, I believe I'd rather die," he

ended bitterly.

"Arthur, dear, I can understand that feeling perfectly," answered

his mother eagerly, "for at your age I had it as strongly as you have.

I think it is only natural to rejoice in strength and straightness

and skill, and to be sensitive if in any way they are taken away

from us. But for all our sakes you've got to bring yourself out of

this unhappy condition. Begin with your crutches about your room,

and when you get a little skill surprise father and me by coming

downstairs. We miss our boy more than I can say."

There was silence for a moment and then Mrs. Hamilton said:

"I came up with a pocketful of news and have almost forgotten to

tell you about it. We are to have a new member in our family; a

little girl, the daughter of an old friend of mine, is coming to

live with us for a whole year."

"How old is she?" asked Arthur indifferently.

"I'm not quite sure," answered his mother, relieved to find that

he took it so calmly, "but I think she is about fourteen."

"Fourteen! Gracious!" ejaculated Arthur sitting bolt upright in

his dismay. "You don't mean to say that we've got to have a girl

fourteen years old in this house? I thought you meant a child about

four or five when you said 'little girl.'"

Mrs. Hamilton couldn't help laughing at his comical look of

apprehension. "I think she's quite harmless, Arthur, and perhaps

you may find her really agreeable when you know her."

"You know I don't know how to get on with girls, mother," he answered

ruefully. "I shall keep out of her way as much as possible, she

may be sure of that."

"I am sorry to find you so ungraciously disposed toward our guest,"

said Mrs. Hamilton quietly, "for I hoped you would help me to make

it pleasant for her. Her mother died only a little more than a year

ago, and now she is going to lose her father for a year, so I am

afraid the poor child will be rather forlorn."

"We shall make a pretty pair for you and father to get along with,"

said Arthur half ashamed. "I'm blue and disagreeable most of the

time, and she'll probably be ready to burst into tears at a moment's

notice."

"There are other ways of giving way to one's feelings that are fully

as bad as tears, I think, my son," said Mrs. Hamilton significantly.

Arthur said nothing, but his chin went down upon his hand in a way

that seemed to signify that he knew what his mother meant.

Mrs. Hamilton looked at the curly head remorsefully, and longed to

pet and comfort as only mothers can. She knew, however, that Arthur

must be made to see that he was spoiling his life by giving way to

this great trial which had come to him.

"Well, dear boy," she said at last, "I must go now and write to

Ruth and tell her that I shall be glad to welcome her here."

"How soon will she get here?" asked Arthur in a resigned tone.

"Her father wrote that he expects to sail on the fifteenth

of October, and as he wants to have two or three days in New York

before sailing that will probably bring her here about the twelfth

or thirteenth. Not quite three weeks, you see."

"The time does seem short," said Arthur, trying to appear politely

interested.

His mother laughed. "I'll leave you to prepare your mind for this

new infliction while I write the note and do my marketing. Don't

forget that you are going to practice with the crutches as soon as

possible; I shall be so proud of you when you can walk downstairs."

Mrs. Hamilton a little later at her desk was just beginning the

pleasant task of writing to Ruth, when the sound of the doorbell

and a quick scamper of feet up the stairs made her put down her

pen with a smile. "Why, girls," she said as a trio of bright faces

appeared in the doorway. "How does it happen that you are out of

school at this hour of the day?"

"Something happened to the gas-pipes, and there was an awful smell

of gas, and all sorts of workmen walking around the building, so

we were sent home," answered the tallest of the three girls. "And

we thought we'd come in and see you for a few minutes, if you

weren't busy and didn't mind."

"I'm almost never too busy to see you and Charlotte and Dorothy,

Betty, and I'm particularly glad just now, for I want to consult

you all about something."

"How fine," said Dorothy. "I love to be consulted, don't you,

girls?"

"You see," continued Mrs. Hamilton, "I am going to borrow a daughter

for a whole year, and I thought you three would be the very ones

to help me make her happy."

"We will. We'd like to," answered the girls. "How old is she?"

asked Charlotte. "And what's her name?" put in Dorothy. "I always

like to know the name before I begin to think very much about a

person."

"Her name is Ruth Shirley, and she's just fourteen, I believe. She

lost a very lovely mother about a year ago, and now her father is

obliged to go abroad on business, so I suspect the poor child will

feel lonely and homesick for a while."

"We'll give her all the good times we can," said Betty warmly.

"When do you expect her, Mrs. Hamilton?"

"In less than three weeks, I think, and that reminds me that I

want you all to advise me about making her room pretty. Let's go

and look at it now and discuss ways and means."

"Oh, you are going to give her the pink room," cried Dorothy as

they entered it. "I think this is the loveliest room in the house."

It was a pretty room, with its delicate pink and white paper, its

dainty draperies and white furniture, and the girls wondered what

more it could need in the way of preparation.

"It seems to me this is fine enough for any one," said Charlotte,

who usually thought aloud quite frankly. "I don't see what you can

do to make it prettier."

"Perhaps not so much prettier as a little more homelike, Charlotte.

For one thing I mean to have some andirons so that there can be a

fire made here when necessary, for this is likely to be a cold room

in winter."

"That will be jolly," murmured Charlotte. "If there's anything I

adore it's an open fire with a rug before it. I hope she's a nice,

quiet girl and likes to read," she added with pretended anxiety,

"for in that case I shouldn't mind having her in the room with me

when I am enjoying her fire."

They all laughed and Dorothy said, "Charlotte is such an old bookworm

that she won't know how to get on with any one who doesn't like to

read. For my part I hope she will be full of fun and like having

a good time better than poking in books all the time."

"Well," said Betty pensively, "I hope she likes cats."

"Well, girls, I hope Ruth will satisfy your expectations," said

Mrs. Hamilton. "And now I want you to do something for me. I want

each of you to think of something that will make the room look more

homelike and more like a girl's room. You may select anything you

like and if I can get it I shall, for I want you all to feel that

you have had a share in making the room pretty."

"I know something," began Dorothy.

"Don't tell, don't tell," interrupted Charlotte. "Let's tell Mrs.

Hamilton secretly, and after the room is finished we'll see if we

can guess what each one suggested."

"That's a clever idea, Lottchen," said Betty, who admired all that

Charlotte said or did.

This agreed upon, the girls said they must go, and Mrs. Hamilton

settled down to her letter once more.

"MY DEAR RUTH" (she wrote):

"I can't wait any longer to tell you how delighted I am to know

that you are coming to us for a whole year. I have always wanted

a daughter of my own, and the next best thing to that will be to

have a borrowed one. I am afraid you are not so full of delight at

the prospect as Mr. Hamilton and I are, but we hope to be able to

drive away at least a part of the homesickness, and we already feel

an affection for the little girl who is coming to us.

"I am going to send you a photograph of some girls who have just

been in to see me and who have heard the news of your coming. I am

very fond of them, and they call themselves my 'visiting daughters,'

and run in to see me at all hours and on all sorts of errands. They

are very glad to know you are coming and are already wondering how

you look and whether you will like them. The one in the middle of

the picture is Charlotte Eastman, and the plump little girl on her

right is Betty Ellsworth. The other is Dorothy Marshall. I shall

not tell you anything more about them, because you will soon see

them and learn to know them for yourself."

Just here Mrs. Hamilton paused in her letter. "She must know that

I have a son, and I'm afraid she'll think it strange if I don't

mention him," she said to herself. "I can't tell her that he is

dreading her coming, and I certainly can't say with truth that he

is expecting her with pleasure. Well, a very little will do and I

can explain later."

"My son, Arthur," the letter went on, "is slowly recovering from

the effects of a severe accident. He has not yet left his room,

but I hope by the time you arrive he will have greatly improved.

"And now, my dear, I'll close my note and hurry it off so that it

may soon assure you of our hearty welcome. With kindest regards to

your father, and love to yourself, I am,

"Yours very sincerely,

"MARY A. HAMILTON."

Mrs. Hamilton's eyes were very tender as she folded and sealed her

letter. "Poor little girl," she said half aloud, "I suspect she

thinks her heart is broken, but we must try to mend it for her."

Glenloch Girls · 第 2 / 19 章