SACRIFICES
It was many an hour before Nan was relieved of her self-imposed task
of keeping house for old Daniel Boggs, and in the meantime Daniella
was going through such experiences as her wildest dreams had never
suggested to her.
Polly drove directly home to consult her parents about the best way to
set to work to look for Mrs. Boggs, but she found neither her father
nor mother at the house, though her brother Tom happened to be in, and
volunteered to go down-town to make inquiries.
"If anything has happened to her in town, they will know at the police
station or the hospital," he said. "I'll go to the station first, for
it is right on my way. If I hear anything there, I'll follow it up."
Polly led Daniella, conscious of new shoes and jacket, into the house
where she sat stiffly on the edge of a chair, refusing to move or to
speak, lost in wonderment. Never before had she been in such a room
as that into which Polly took her, although it was but the plainly
furnished sitting-room of an ordinary house. Never before had Daniella
seen pictures in gilt frames, books in colored bindings, carpeted
floors or curtained windows. She sat as if in a dream, staring around
in amazement. She was too proud to ask questions, too shy to leave her
chair, too embarrassed to speak.
Within half an hour, Tom Lewis returned. He called to Polly, but
Daniella heard him, and with a swift direct movement darted toward
the entry where he was. She stood rigidly erect waiting for his first
words. "Come out here, Polly," he said. "I want to speak to you." And
he led his sister to the porch. "I couldn't tell you while that child's
great eyes were upon me," he said. "I have found her mother. She is
at the hospital badly hurt. She has been unconscious, or at least
delirious, and they could not discover her name till this morning. Now,
what's to be done?"
"Nan mustn't stay up there, and the old man is to be considered," said
Polly thoughtfully. "Perhaps, Tom, I'd better go over and speak to Aunt
Sarah. Mary Lee and Phil went over and have given her some idea of the
state of things. Meanwhile, you hunt up father and see if he can advise
anything to be done about that old man. We can't, for humanity's sake,
allow Daniella to stay there in that lonely cabin while her mother is
getting well."
"And we must get Nan home," said Tom. "I'll find father, Polly, and
he'll know what's best. The woman is not likely to be out for some
weeks, they told me."
"Dear, dear," exclaimed Polly.
"What woman? Where is she?" cried an excited voice at her side. Polly
turned to put her arm around Daniella who was looking at her with big
frightened eyes. "Your mother has been hurt, Daniella, dear. She was
run over by a wagon on the street, but she is in good hands and-----"
"Where is she? Where?" interrupted Daniella, wrenching herself away. "I
wants to see her. Take me to her."
"I cannot this minute, but you shall see her as soon as we can make
arrangements. Be a good girl, Daniella, and don't make a fuss. We are
going to do all we can for both you and your mother."
Daniella choked back a great sob, but sat down on a chair in the hall,
her eyes like those of some patient, suffering animal.
Polly took a seat beside her. "We are not going to let you stay up on
the mountain alone, so far from your mother," she went on gently. "My
brother has gone to find out what can be done about your grandfather.
Now, will you stay here, or will you come with me to Nan's home? Nan,
you know, is the one who is staying with your grandfather."
Daniella nodded. "I know her name; I ain't goin' to fergit it neither.
I'll go thar with you."
Polly took her to where Aunt Sarah was listening to Mary Lee's account
of the afternoon's adventure. "What's this?" said Miss Dent, as Polly
entered. "Why did you let Nan stay up there, Polly?"
"She wanted to stay," said Polly with a warning look. "This is Daniella
Boggs, Aunt Sarah. We have just heard that her mother has met with an
accident and is in the hospital. The nurses assured Tom that she was
doing well, but we must make arrangements for Daniella." She followed
Aunt Sarah into the next room where they talked in low tones together
while Mary Lee, Phil and the twins put their heads together to make a
plan of their own.
Daniella sat on the edge of the sofa, her hands clenched and her tears
rolling down upon the red jacket. She could no longer keep them back.
Presently the children left her there and she could hear them all
talking in the adjoining room.
"Please, Aunt Sarah," begged Jack.
"Oh, do, auntie," pleaded Jean.
"I'll go without butter," put in Mary Lee.
"And I'll empty my savings bank," added Phil.
"Go 'long, go 'long, all of you," said Aunt Sarah. "Wait till your
elders have talked this thing over and then we will see."
"One more couldn't make so very, very much difference," Mary Lee began
again.
"And we could sleep three in a bed," Jean's voice came in.
"Or we could do something. There's a lot of room if we only had the
furniture," Jack's argument followed.
"I'll bet mother has a bedstead to spare," Phil chimed in eagerly, "and
we could rig up one of those dressing-table things out of boxes."
"Hush, hush," Aunt Sarah commanded. "You drive me wild. Not another
word, Phil Lewis, till I see your father."
Then all of them trooped back into the room where Daniella was sitting.
"Now, Daniella," said Polly, "you are to stay here with these little
girls till we get everything arranged, and when I come back, I will
take you to see your mother, if I can." And she went off with Miss
Sarah, leaving Daniella feeling desolate and scared.
The children, however, could not avoid the subject which was so near to
their hearts. All their young sympathies were aroused. They would have
given Daniella any of their possessions, and were ready to make any
sacrifices. "Did they not know what it meant to have a mother ill and
away from them?"
"Our mother is ill, too," said Mary Lee, "and she is way off, too far
for us ever to go and see her. She had to go there so as to get well."
Daniella felt the sympathy which this state of affairs must bring
about, and she wiped her eyes upon the back of her hand, and tried to
force back her tears.
"Wouldn't you like to stay with us till your mother gets well?"
ventured Jack, eyeing the disconsolate Daniella.
Daniella blinked away her tears but made no reply.
"Hush, Jack," said Mary Lee in a half whisper. "You mustn't say that
yet."
"I just wanted to know," said Jack, still gazing at Daniella.
"It isn't polite for you to stare so," whispered Mary Lee, and Jack
turned away her eyes.
"What do you suppose they will do now with the money we made at the
bazaar?" whispered Jean to Phil. But he shook his head reprovingly at
her.
They found that they could not draw Daniella into conversation,
but they did not think it polite to leave her. Jack brought her a
picture-book to look at. She stared at the pictures uncomprehendingly.
Mary Lee produced a piece of needlework she was doing; it had no better
effect.
Jean ran out and brought back Rubaiyat, whom she placed in Daniella's
lap. Then the forlorn little stranger smiled and smoothed the soft fur.
Encouraged by this, and not to be outdone by her twin, Jack rushed to
the kitchen and came back with a cake and an apple which she offered to
the interesting visitor.
Daniella eyed the apple for a moment and then shook her head. She was
not going to seem to need food in the presence of these more favored
children. But she seemed to take comfort in cuddling Ruby and they felt
that they had done all that they could.
In the course of an hour Colonel Lewis came in with his daughter and
Miss Sarah. "Tom and I have arranged it," he told Phil in answer to the
eager questions he put as he ran out to meet them. "We've found a place
to take the grandfather. He must go to the County Asylum, as his mind
is impaired. We must get Nan home right away, so Tom or I will drive up
for her and bring the old man back. They'll keep him at the hospital
to-night and to-morrow he can go to the place I spoke of. He will be
well cared for."
"And what about Daniella?" asked Phil.
"That's not settled yet. She will stay here till we can determine what
is best to be done. The main thing now is to get Nan home. I feel very
loth to leave her there alone a moment longer than necessary. Mrs.
Boggs is in good hands and is improving."
As Polly entered the room, she said, "Now, Daniella, you may go to see
your mother." Down went Ruby, awakened rudely from the nap she was
taking in Daniella's lap, and the little girl, without waiting for
further invitation, darted out the door. She ran down to the gate so
fast that Polly could not overtake her. "Wait, Daniella, wait," she
called. "You don't know which way to go." Then Daniella paused and
those watching saw them go swiftly down the street.
During the time that all this was going on, Nan was patiently keeping
watch in the cabin. The short winter day was drawing to a close when
she stirred the fire and tried to set a kettle of water to boil. Little
as she was used to cooking, she was less used to an open fire, and
found some difficulty in making the coffee. But she accomplished it at
last, emptied some into a bowl and poured into it a liberal supply of
"long sweetening" which she discovered to be molasses, then putting
some of the corn bread upon a plate, she set it before the old man.
He was able to feed himself which he did noisily, but with evident
enjoyment. Nan could touch none of the food herself, though she was
hungry after a picnic lunch taken on the drive up the mountain. The
hours began to drag wearily. Once in a while, the old man would make
some meaningless remark, supposing Nan to be his granddaughter. Two or
three times he attempted to meddle with the fire, but Nan was able to
stop him. He was simple and harmless, but, like a child, in danger of
doing himself an injury by some sudden piece of mischief.
Nan wondered how Daniella could stand living in the little cooped
up, bare cabin, how she could endure the privations and the lack of
companionship. As the shadows deepened, she began to fear it might be
possible that she would have to stay there all night, and was relieved
to hear the sound of wheels, and then her Cousin Tom Lewis's voice.
"Heigho, Nan!" he cried, "Ran and I have come for you."
"Is Daniella with you?" asked Nan, peering out the door.
"No," answered Tom as he came up to the cabin.
"Oh, then I can't leave. I'll have to stay with the old man," returned
Nan with a great feeling of disappointment. "I promised, you know."
Tom came forward. "No, you won't stay," he said. "We are going to take
the old man, too. Where is he?"
"In there by the fire. Oh, Cousin Tom, who says he is to go, and where
are you going to take him? What's become of Daniella, and has anything
happened to her mother?"
"One question at a time, please. It is all right about the old
gentleman, so don't you bother. The first thing to do is to get him
ready, and then there'll be time to answer your questions on the way
home. I've brought an old army overcoat to wrap him up in, for I didn't
suppose we should find much here, from what Polly said."
The bewildered old man was soon bundled into the carriage. He whimpered
like a child at being taken from the cabin, and kept saying over and
over, "I'm innercent, I'm innercent. I never took no hand in the
business."
"He probably imagines we are sheriffs after him for a moonshiner," said
Tom. "Poor old chap!" He tried to reassure the old man but found it
was no use, and after a while he lapsed into silence, seeming to find
comfort alone in the supposed fact that his granddaughter was with him.
On the way down the mountain, Nan learned of all that had happened
since morning, and kept up such a running fire of questions and
comments as made Tom declare she must have been all day thinking them
up.
She felt that she had been away for weeks when at last they stopped
before her own door. Was it only that morning that they had started out
to take the red jacket to Daniella?
Mary Lee and the twins rushed out to meet her, full of the day's
happenings. "Daniella's here," cried Mary Lee.
"Yes, and she's been to see her mother at the hospital," said Jack.
"And her mother is crite ill," put in Jean. "Cousin Polly says she
can't take any food except licrids because she has such a fever. She
was hurt awfully, but she told Cousin Polly they couldn't have done
more for her if she had been a creen."
"We want to keep Daniella here," Mary Lee went on, "and Aunt Sarah is
thinking about it."
"Where is Daniella now?" asked Nan.
"She's at the hospital. Cousin Tom is going to bring her back when he
takes her grandfather there. Isn't it a good thing that Cousin Philip
is one of the directors? He had everything hurried up and settled so
much sooner. Was it very awful staying up there all day, Nan? Were you
scared?"
"It was lonesome, but I wasn't frightened. There wasn't anything to
do but give the old man his supper and keep him from fooling with the
fire. I couldn't eat their messes myself."
"Then you must be half starved," said Mary Lee. "You poor child. We
waited supper for you all. Mitty is putting it on the table now."
Nan thought that never before in her life had batter bread and cold ham
tasted so good. Never had biscuits and baked apples such a flavor.
After supper, Miss Sarah called the four girls to her. "Now, children,"
she said, "the little girl will be here presently, and before she gets
here we must understand whether she is to stay or not. They will take
her in at the Children's Home or the St. Mary's Orphan Asylum, while
her mother is ill, so we need not feel that she will not be looked
after."
"Oh, but it would be dreadful to shut up that little wild thing in
a strict place like the Home or the Asylum," said Nan, with keen
appreciation of what Daniella would suffer.
"But you know, my dear, that every penny counts with us, and that all
that can be spared must go for your mother's expenses. If we keep
the child here, even for a couple of months, she will have to have
clothing, her board will cost something, and it will mean sacrifices on
the part of all of us. Now, the question is: What are you willing to
give up?"
"I think I can get along without anything more in the way of clothes
this winter," said Nan, visions of a new frock fading away.
"And I am sure I can if Nan can," said Mary Lee, readily.
"I'll wear hand-me-downs and not say a word," said Jack, "and I'll give
Daniella all my rice pudding."
"Because you don't like it," Jean spoke with scorn.
"Well, never mind, if she likes it, what's the difference?" said Jack,
argumentatively. "If I gave up something she didn't like and that I
did, it wouldn't do her any good. You haven't said yet that you'd give
up anything."
"Of course I'll give up something," declared Jean, offended. "I'll give
up whatever Aunt Sarah says I ought."
"Good little girl," said Aunt Sarah, approvingly. "I hope you will not
have to give up much. You younger ones can always take the clothes
of the older ones, and as for food we shall not be able to set a
very much plainer table on account of our boarders. I think there
will be rice pudding enough for every one, but we'll have gingerbread
instead of rich cake, and eat more oatmeal instead of so many hot
griddle-cakes."
"I suppose they do take a crauntity of butter," sighed Jean, who liked
griddle-cakes above all things.
"We'll eat 'long sweetening' on them," said Nan, with a smile at the
recollection of the Boggs's molasses jug. "By the way, I never thought
of Daniella's chickens and her little pig. They killed the big pig,
and there is quite a lot of meat up there. Some one will have to go up
there after those things."
"They can be sold," said Aunt Sarah, "and that will help out their
expenses."
"Oh, can't we keep the chickens and the little pig? Then Daniella won't
cost us anything for eggs."
"But the chickens will cost us something for food," argued Miss Sarah.
"Oh, dear, I forgot that they must be fed. I always think of chickens
just picking and scratching around for a living," said Nan. "Well, Aunt
Sarah, is it settled? Do we keep Daniella here or don't we?"
"If you all are willing to make the sacrifices, we will keep her, but
you must not murmur. I want you to realize what it means. Now, in the
flush of your generous spirit, it seems easy, but after a while, when
your coat looks shabby, Nan, and your best frock is too short, and
when Mary Lee must wear her old hat and Jack must be satisfied with
made-over clothing, and rice-pudding oftener, when Jean can't have
griddle-cakes swimming in butter, and must have her shoes mended and
remended, it may not seem so easy. My own inclination is always to
fling wide a hospitable door, but we must think of what is due to your
mother before anything else."
The four children were silent. They realized the truth of all this.
At last Jack spoke up. "I don't care; I'd just as soon have the
made-overs; you don't have to be near so careful of them."
"There is some comfort in that," agreed Nan. "Yes, Aunt Sarah, we'll do
it, won't we, Mary Lee?"
"I will, if you will."
"Then it's settled," Nan declared. "Daniella is to be ours till further
notice. Will she go to school, Aunt Sarah? She doesn't know even how to
read."
"We can see about that later," Aunt Sarah told her.
Later, this question did come up, for when the chickens and pig
were domiciled at the Corners' and Daniella had become used to her
surroundings, she realized that if she would be like the rest she
must know much more than she did. At first she was like some little
wild animal, and could not be kept in the house, saying she could not
breathe there. She was shy of every one but Nan and Mary Lee, and fled
at the approach of strangers. She did not know how to wear the clothing
provided for her, nor had she ever been inside a church. Shops were a
marvel and a school was something that had to be elaborately explained,
but in time she came to understand that she was unlike the rest of
the world and that if she would be in it she must be of it. Then she
told Nan she wanted to know what was inside books, and she would go to
school. One day of the routine was enough for her. She escaped before
the morning was half over to Nan's mortification.
"You ought at least to have stayed till noon," she said, chidingly.
"I couldn't, I couldn't," replied Daniella vehemently. "I felt like a
wild creetur in a trap, and them gals starin' and snickerin' made me
feel like a fool thing. I ain't goin' to set alongside o' babies, an'
I ain't no right with gals my own size. I don't want to hev nothin'
to do with none of 'em, 'scusin' you an' Mary Lee. If I never l'arns
nothin', I ain't goin' to be cooped up lak a po' trapped rabbit or a
bird in a cage. I don't keer if I don't know nothin'. Maw'll love me
jest the same."
Nan was quite distressed. She had felt a real missionary spirit in
rescuing Daniella from the depths of her ignorance. She dreamed of the
day when she should be proud of her, when pretty little Daniella would
appear as well as any girl, but now her hopes were blasted. She thought
long upon the subject. She discussed it with her sisters, with her Aunt
Sarah, with Cousin Polly and Cousin Mag but no one could seem to offer
a solution to the problem. It was cruel, every one thought, to send a
girl to school who felt so keenly about it. Why make her miserable for
the short time she was living in a civilized community? After a while
she would have to return to her wild life, then where would be the good
of having made her unhappy?
But Nan felt differently about it. She had a scheme of teaching
Daniella herself, but the mountain girl spurned it, and said she wasn't
goin' to hav no gal her own size l'arnin' her, though if the truth were
known, she really did not want to give Nan the task. So at last Nan
took her difficulty to her Aunt Helen, and here she found a friend in
need, for Miss Helen declared that nothing would interest her more
than to teach Daniella for an hour or two a day.
"She is like a blank, unwritten page," she said. "And I'd like the
experience of putting my mark upon her. I should like to try some of my
own theories. You say she is bright, Nan?"
"Real bright. Not like schooly brightness, but in a queer way, that
shows she thinks a lot more than you suppose."
"So much the better. I can try to bring out what is in her, by my own
methods."
Then Nan, by coaxing and arguing induced Daniella to try the experiment
of going to Uplands for an hour each day, and after her very first
trial it seemed that Miss Helen had solved the problem, and that
Daniella's education had fairly begun.
[Illustration: CHAPTER XVI
PARTY FROCKS]