October was a delightful month, clear and sparkling; but early in
November the weather changed, and became very cold. Thick frosts
fell, every leaf vanished from the woods, in the gardens only
blackened stalks remained to show where once the summer flowers
had been. In spite of the stove outside the door, No. 2 began to
be chilly; more than once Katy found her tooth-brush stiff with ice
in the morning. It was a fore-taste of the what the winter was to
be, and the girls shivered at the prospect.
Toward the end of November Miss Jane caught a heavy cold. Unsparing
of herself as of others, she went on hearing her classes as usual;
and nobody paid much attention to her hoarseness and flushed cheeks,
until she grew so much worse that she was forced to go to bed. There
she stayed for nearly four weeks. It made a great change in the
school; and the girls found it such a relief to have her sharp voice
and eyes taken away that I am afraid they were rather glad of her
illness than otherwise.
Katy shared in this feeling of relief. She did not like Miss Jane; it
was pleasant not to have to see her or hear of her. But as day after
day passed, and still she continued ill, Katy's conscience began to
prick. One night she lay awake a long time, and heard Miss Jane
coughing violently. Katy feared she was very sick, and wondered who
took care of her all night and all day. None of the girls went near
her. The servants were always busy. And Mrs. Nipson, who did not
love Miss Jane, was busy too.
In the morning, while studying and practising, Katy caught herself
thinking over this question. At last she asked Miss Marsh,--
"How is Miss Jane to-day?"
"About the same. She is not dangerously ill, the doctor says; but
she coughs a great deal, and has some fever."
"Is anybody sitting with her?"
"Oh, no! there's no need of any one. Susan answers the bell, and she
has her medicine on the table within reach."
It sounded forlorn enough. Katy had lived in a sick-room so long
herself that she knew just how dreary it is for an invalid to be
left alone with "medicine within reach," and some one to answer a
bell. She began to feel sorry for Miss Jane, and almost without
intending it went down the entry, and tapped at her door. The "Come
in!" sounded very faint; and Miss Jane as she lay in bed looked weak
and dismal, and quite unlike the sharp, terrible person whom the
girls feared so much. She was amazed at the sight of Katy, and
made a feeble attempt to hold up her head and speak as usual.
"What is it, Miss Carr?"
"I only came to see how you are," said Katy, abashed at her own daring,
"You coughed so much last night that I was afraid you were worse. Isn't
there something I could do for you?"
"Thank you," said Miss Jane, "you are very kind." Think of Miss Jane's
thanking anybody, and calling anybody kind!
"I should be very glad. Isn't there any thing?" repeated Katy,
encouraged.
"Well, I don't know: you might put another stick of wood on the fire,"
said Miss Jane, in an ungracious tone. Katy did so; and seeing that
the iron cup on top of the stove was empty, she poured some water into
it. Then she took a look about the room. Books and papers were
scattered over the table; clean clothes from the wash lay on the
chairs; nothing was in its place; and Katy, who knew how particular
Miss Jane was on the subject of order, guessed at the discomfort
which this untidy state of affairs must have caused her.
"Wouldn't you like to have me put these away?" she asked, touching the
pile of clothes.
Miss Jane sighed impatiently, but she did not say no; so Katy, taking
silence for consent, opened the drawers, and laid the clothes inside,
guessing at the right places with a sort of instinct, and making as
little noise and bustle as possible. Next she moved quietly to the
table, where she sorted and arranged the papers, piled up the books,
and put the pens and pencils in a small tray which stood there for
the purpose. Lastly she began to dust the table with her pocket
handkerchief, which proceeding roused Miss Jane at once.
"Don't," she said, "there is a duster in the cupboard."
Katy could not help smiling, but she found the duster, and proceeded
to put the rest of the room into nice order, laying a fresh towel
over the bedside table, and arranging watch, medicine, and spoon
within reach. Miss Jane lay and watched her. I think she was as much
surprised at herself for permitting all this, as Katy was at being
permitted to do it. Sick people often consent because they feel too
weak to object. After all, it _was_ comfortable to have some one
come in and straighten the things which for ten days past had vexed
her neat eyes with their untidiness.
Lastly, smoothing the quilt, Katy asked if Miss Jane wouldn't like
to have her pillow shaken up?
"I don't care," was the answer. It sounded discouraging; but Katy
boldly seized the pillow, beat, smoothed, and put it again in place.
Then she went out of the room as noiselessly as she could, Miss Jane
never saying, "Thank you," or seeming to observe whether she went
or stayed.
Rose Red and Clover could hardly believe their ears when told where
she had been. They stared at her as people stare at Van Amburgh when
he comes safely out of the lion's den.
"My stars!" exclaimed Rose, drawing a long breath. "You didn't really?
And she hasn't bitten your head off!"
"Not a bit," said Katy, laughing. "What's more, I'm going again."
She was as good as her word. After that she went to see Miss Jane very
often. Almost always there was some little thing which she could do,
the fire needed mending, or the pitcher to be filled with ice-water, or
Miss Jane wanted the blinds opened or shut. Gradually she grew used
to seeing Katy about the room. One morning she actually allowed her
to brush her hair; and Katy's touch was so light and pleasant that
afterwards Miss Jane begged her to do it every day.
"What makes you such a good nurse?" she asked one afternoon, rather
abruptly.
"Being sick myself," replied Katy, gently. Then in answer to farther
questioning, she told of her four years' illness, and her life
upstairs, keeping house and studying lessons all alone by herself.
Miss Jane did not say any thing when she got through; but Katy
fancied she looked at her in a new and kinder way.
So time went on till Christmas. It fell on a Friday that year, which
shortened the holidays by a day, and disappointed many of the girls.
Only a few went home, the rest were left to pass the time as best they
might till Monday, when lessons were to begin again.
"It isn't much like merry Christmas," sighed Clover to herself, as
she looked up at the uncottoned space at the top of the window, and
saw great snow-flakes wildly whirling by. No. 2 felt cold and dreary,
and she was glad to exchange it for the school-room, round whose warm
stove a cluster of girls was huddling. Everybody was in bad spirits;
there was a tendency to talk about home, and the nice time which
people were having there, and the very bad time they themselves were
having at the Nunnery.
"Isn't it mis-e-ra-ble? I shall cry all night, I know I shall, I am
so homesick," gulped Lilly, who had taken possession of her room-
mate's shoulder and was weeping ostentatiously.
"I declare, you're just Mrs. Gummidge in 'David Copperfield' over
again," said Rose. "You recollect her, girls, don't you? When the
porridge was burnt, you know,--'All of us felt the disappointment,
but Mrs. Gummidge felt it the most.' Isn't Lilly a real Mrs. Gummidge,
girls?"
The observation changed Lilly's tears into anger. "You're as hateful
and as horrid as you can be, Rose Red," she exclaimed angrily. Then
she flew out of the room, and shut the door behind her with a bang.
"There! she's gone upstairs to be mad," said Louisa Agnew.
"I don't care if she has," replied Rose, who was in a perverse mood.
"I wish you hadn't said that, Rosy," whispered Clover. "Lilly really
felt badly."
"Well, what if she did? So do I feel badly, and you, and the rest of
us. Lilly hasn't taken out a patent for bad feelings, which nobody
must infringe. What business has she to make us feel badder, by
setting up to be so much worse than the rest of the world?"
Clover said nothing, but went on with a book she was reading. In less
than ten minutes, Rose, whose sun seldom stayed long behind a cloud,
was at her elbow, dimpling and coaxing.
"I forgive you," she whispered, giving Clover's arm a little pinch.
"What for?"
"For being in the right. About Lilly, I mean. I was rather hateful
to her, I confess. Never mind. When she comes downstairs, I'll make
up. She's a crocodile, if ever there was one; but, as she's your
cousin, I'll be good to her. Kiss me quick to prove that you're not
vexed."
"Vexed indeed!" said Clover, kissing the middle of the pink cheek. "I
wonder if anybody ever stayed vexed with you for ten minutes together,
You Rosy-Posy you?"
"Bless you, yes! Miss Jane, for example. She hates me like poison,
and all the time. Well, what of it? I know she's sick, but I 'can't
tell a lie, pa,' on that account. Where's Katy?"
"Gone in to see her, I believe."
"One of these days," prophesied Rose, solemnly, "she'll go into that
room, and she'll never come out again! Miss Jane is getting back into
biting condition. I advise Katy to be careful. What's that noise?
Sleigh-bells, I declare! Girls,"--mounting a desk, and peeping out
of the window,--"somebody's got a big box,--a big one! Here's old
Joyce at the door, with his sledge. Now who do you suppose it is?"
"It's for me. I'm sure it's for me," cried half a dozen voices.
"Bella, my love, peep over the balusters, and see if you can't see
the name," cried Louisa; and Bella, nothing loath, departed at once
on this congenial errand.
"No, I can't," she reported, coming back from the hall. "The name's
tipped up against the wall. There's two boxes! One is big, and one
is little!"
"Oh, who can they be for?" clamored the girls. Half the school
expected boxes, and had been watching the storm all day, with a
dreadful fear that it would block the roads, and delay the expected
treasures.
At this moment Mrs. Nipson came in.
"There will be the usual study-hour this evening," she announced.
"All of you will prepare lessons for Monday morning. Miss Carr,
come her for a moment, if you please."
Clover, wondering, followed her into the entry.
"A parcel has arrived for you, and a box," said Mrs. Nipson. "I
presume that they contain articles for Christmas. I will have the
nails removed, and both of them placed in you room this evening,
but I expect you to refrain from examining them until to-morrow. The
vacation does not open until after study-hour to-night, and it will
then be too late for you to begin."
"Very well, ma'am," said Clover, demurely. But the minute Mrs.
Nipson's back was turned, she gave a jump, and rushed into the
school-room.
"O girls," she cried, "what do you think? Both the boxes are for
Katy and me!"
"Both!" cried a disappointed chorus.
"Yes, both. Nipson said so. I'm so sorry for you. But isn't it nice
for us? We've never had a box from home before, you know; and I didn't
think we should, it's so far off. It's too lovely! But I do hope yours
will come to-night."
Clover's voice was so sympathizing, for all its glee, that nobody
could help being glad with her.
"You little darling!" said Louisa, giving her a hug. "I'm rejoiced
that the box is yours. The rest of us are always getting them, and
you and Katy never had a thing before. I hope it's a nice one!"
Study-hour seemed unusually long that night. The minute it was over,
the sisters ran to No. 2. There stood the boxes, a big wooden one,
with all the nails taken out of the lid, and a small paper one,
carefully tied up and sealed. It was almost more than the girls
could do to obey orders and not peep.
"I feel something hard," announced Clover, inserting a finger-top
under the lid.
"Oh, do you?" cried Katy. Then, making an heroic effort, she jumped
into the bed.
"It's the only way," she said, "you'd better come too, Clovy. Blow
the candle out and let's get to sleep as fast as we can, so as to
make morning come quicker."
Katy dreamed of home that night. Perhaps it was that which made her
wake so early. It was not five o'clock, and the room was perfectly
dark. She did not like to disturb Clover, so she lay perfectly still,
for hours as it seemed, till a faint gray dawn crept in, and revealed
the outlines of the big box standing by the window. Then she could
wait no longer, but crept out of bed, crossed the floor on tip-toe,
and raising the lid a little put in her hand. Something crumby and
sugary met it, and when she drew it out, there, fitting on her finger
like a ring, was a round cake with a hole in the middle of it.
"Oh! it's one of Debby's jumbles!" she exclaimed.
"Where? What are you doing? Give me one too!" cried Clover, starting
up. Katy rummaged till she found another, then, half frozen, she ran
back to bed; and the two lay nibbling the jumbles, and talking about
home, till dawn deepened into daylight, and morning was fairly come.
Breakfast was half an hour later than usual, which was comfortable.
As soon as it was over, the girls proceeded to unpack their box. The
day was so cold that they wrapped themselves in shawls, and Clover
put on a hood and thick gloves. Rose Red, passing the door, burst
out laughing, and recommended that she should add india rubbers and
an umbrella.
"Come in," cried the sisters,--"come in, and help us open our box."
"Oh, by the way, you have a box, haven't you?" said Rose, who was
perfectly aware of the important fact, and had presented herself with
the hope of being asked to look on. "Thank you, but perhaps I would
better come some other time. I shall be in your way."
"You humbug!" said Clover, while Katy seized Rose and pulled her into
the room. "There, sit on the bed, you ridiculous goose, and put on
my gray cloak. How can you be so absurd as to say you won't? You
know we want you, and you know you came on purpose!"
"Did I? Well, perhaps I did," laughed Rose. Then Katy lifted off the
lid and set it against the door. It was an exciting moment.
"Just look here!" cried Katy.
The top of the box was mostly taken up with four square paper boxes,
round which parcels of all shapes and sized were wedged and fitted.
The whole was a miracle of packing. It had taken Miss Finch three
mornings, with assistance from old Mary, and much advice from Elsie,
to do it so beautifully.
Each box held a different kind of cake. One was of jumbles, another
of ginger-snaps, a third of crullers, and the fourth contained a big
square loaf of frosted plum-cake, with a circle of sugar almonds set
in the frosting. How the trio exclaimed at this!
"I never imagined any thing so nice," declared Rose, with her mouth
full of jumble. "As for those snaps, they're simply perfect. What
can be in all those fascinating bundles? Do hurry and open one,
Katy."
Dear little Elsie! The first two bundles opened were hers, a white
hood for Katy, and a blue one for Clover, both of her own knitting,
and so nicely done. The girls were enchanted.
"How she has improved!" said Katy. "She knits better than either of
us, Clover."
"There never was such a clever little darling!" responded Clover, and
they patted the hoods, tried them on before the glass, and spent so
much time in admiring them that Rose grew impatient.
"I declare," she cried, "it isn't any of my funeral, I know; but if
you don't open another parcel soon, I shall certainly fall to myself.
It seems as if, what with cold and curiosity, I couldn't wait."
"Very well," said Katy, laying aside her hood, with one final glance.
"Take out a bundle, Clover. It's your turn."
Clover's bundle was for herself, "Evangeline," in blue and gold; and
pretty soon "Golden Legend," in the same binding, appeared for Katy.
Both these were from Dorry. Next came a couple of round packages of
exactly the same size. These proved to be ink-stands, covered with
Russia leather: one marked, "Katy from Johnnie," and the other,
"Clover from Phil." It was evident that the children had done their
shopping together, for presently two long narrow parcels revealed the
carved pen-handles, precisely alike; and these were labelled, "Katy
from Phil," and "Clover from Johnnie."
What fun it was opening those bundles! The girls made a long business
of it, taking out but one at a time, exclaiming, admiring, and
exhibiting to Rose, before they began upon another. They laughed,
they joked, but I do not think it would have taken much to make
either of them cry. It was almost too tender a pleasure, these
proofs of loving remembrance from the little one; and each separate
article seemed full of the very look and feel of home.
"What can this be?" said Katy, as she unrolled a paper and disclosed
a pretty round box. She opened. Nothing was visible but pink cotton
wool. Katy peeped beneath, and gave a cry.
"O Clovy! Such a lovely thing! It's from papa,--of course it's from
papa. How could he? It's a great deal too pretty."
The "lovely thing" was a long slender chain for Katy's watch, worked
in fine yellow gold. Clover admired it extremely; and her joy knew
no bounds when farther search revealed another box with a precisely
similar chain for herself. It was too much. The girls fairly cried
with pleasure.
"There never was such a papa in the world!" they said.
"Yes, there is. Mine is just as good," declared Rose, twinkling away
a little tear-drop from her own eyes. "Now don't cry, honeys. Your
papa's an angel, there's no doubt about it. I never saw such pretty
chains in my life,--never. As for the children, they're little ducks.
You certainly are a wonderful family. Katy, I'm dying to know what
is in the blue parcel."
The blue parcel was from Cecy, and contained a pretty blue ribbon for
Clover. There was a pink one also, with a pink ribbon for Katy.
Everybody had thought of the girls. Old Mary sent them each a yard
measure; Miss Finch, a thread-case, stocked with differently colored
cottons. Alexander had cracked a bag full of hickory nuts.
"Did you ever?" said, Rose, when this last was produced. "What a
thing it is to be popular! Mrs. Hall? Who's Mrs. Hall?" as Clover
unwrapped a tiny carved easel.
"She's Cecy's mother," explained Clover. "Wasn't she kind to send me
this, Katy? And here's Cecy's photograph in a little frame for you."
Never was such a wonderful box. It appeared to have no bottom
whatever. Under the presents were parcels of figs, prunes, almonds,
raisins, candy; under those, apples and pears. There seemed no end
to the surprises.
At last all were out.
"Now," said Katy, "let's throw back the apples and pears, and then I
want you to help divide the other things, and make some packages for
the girls. They are all disappointed not to have their boxes. I
should like to have them share ours. Wouldn't you, Clover?"
"Yes, indeed. I was just going to propose it."
So Clover cut twenty-nine squares of white paper, Rose and Katy sorted
and divided, and pretty soon ginger-snaps and almonds and sugar-plums
were walking down all the entries, and a gladsome crunching showed
that the girls had found pleasant employment. None of the snowed-up
boxes got through till Monday, so except for Katy and Clover the
school would have had no Christmas treat at all.
They carried Mrs. Nipson a large slice of cake, and a basket full of
the beautiful red apples. All the teachers were remembered, and the
servants. The S. S. U. C. was convened and feasted; and as for Rose,
Louisa, and other special cronies, dainties were heaped upon them
with such unsparing hand that they finally remonstrated.
"You're giving everything away. You'll have none left for yourselves."
"Yes, we shall,--plenty," said Clover. "O Rosy! here's such a splendid
pear! You must have this."
"No! no!" protested Rose; but Clover forced it into her pocket. "The
Carrs' Box" was always quoted in the Nunnery afterward, as an example
of what papas and mammas could accomplish, when they were of the right
sort, and really wanted to make school-girls happy. Distributing
their treasures kept Katy and Clover so busy that it was not until
after dinner that they found time to open the smaller box. When they
did so, they were sorry for the delay. The box was full of flowers,
roses, geranium-leaves, heliotrope, beautiful red and white carnations,
all so bedded in cotton that the frost had not touched them. But they
looked chilled, and Katy hastened to put them in warm water, which she
had been told was the best way to revive drooping flowers.
Cousin Helen had sent them; and underneath, sewed to the box, that
they might not shake about and do mischief, were two flat parcels
wrapped in tissue paper, and tied with white ribbon, in Cousin Helen's,
dainty way. They were glove-cases, of quilted silk, delicately
scented, one white, and one lilac; and to each was pinned a loving
note, wishing the girls a Merry Christmas.
"How awfully good people are!" said Clover. "I do think we ought to
be the best girls in the world."
Last of all, Katy made a choice little selection from her stores, a
splendid apple, a couple of fine pears, and handful of raisins and
figs, and, with a few of the freshest flowers in a wine-glass, she
went down the Row and tapped at Miss Jane's door.
Miss Jane was sitting up for the first time, wrapped in a shawl, and
looking very thin and pale. Katy, who had almost ceased to be afraid
of her, went in cheerily.
"We've had a delicious box from home, Miss Jane, full of all sorts
of things. It has been such fun unpacking it! I've brought you an
apple, some pears, and this little bunch of flowers. Wasn't it a
nice Christmas for us?"
"Yes," said Miss Jane, "very nice indeed. I heard some one saying
in the entry that you had a box. Thank you," as Katy set the basket
and glass on the table. "Those flowers are very sweet. I wish you
a Merry Christmas, I'm sure."
This was much from Miss Jane, who couldn't help speaking shortly, even
when she was pleased. Katy withdrew in high glee.
But that night, just before bed-time, something happened so surprising
that Katy, telling Clover of it afterward, said she half fancied that
she must have dreamed it all. It was about eight o'clock in the
evening: she was passing down Quaker Row, and Miss Jane called and
asked her to come in. Miss Jane's cheeks were flushed, and she spoke
fast, as if she had resolved to say something, and thought the sooner
it was over the better.
"Miss Carr," she began, "I wish to tell you that I made up my mind some
time since that we did you an injustice last term. It is not your
attentions to me during my illness which have changed my opinion,--
that was done before I fell ill. It is your general conduct, and
the good influence which I have seen you exert over other girls, which
convinced me that we must have been wrong about you. That is all. I
thought you might like to hear me say this, and I shall say the same
to Mrs. Nipson."
"Thank you," said Katy, "you don't know how glad I am!" She half
thought she would kiss Miss Jane, but somehow it didn't seem possible;
so she shook hands very heartily instead, and flew to her room, feeling
as if her feet were wings.
"It seems too good to be true. I want to cry, I am so happy," she
told Clover. "What a lovely day this has been!"
And of all that she had received, I think Katy considered this
explanation with Miss Jane as her very best Christmas box.