It was late morning when Barbara awoke--so late that she saw, by the
position of the square of sunshine on the wall beyond her bed, that the
hour for breakfast was over. Her first vague waking sense was one of
joy to come, which she presently caught and fixed as the knowledge that
her Uncle Bob would soon be with her. Then a great flood of depression
rolled over her, blotting out the joy, as she remembered that she had
Aunt Hitty yet to reckon with. To make matters worse, she had slept
past breakfast time,--which was almost an immorality in that punctual
household. A lump came up in her throat, and tears ached behind her
eyes, for she had meant to try so hard to make up,--and now she had
gone and sinned again. She shut her eyes tight, and made a determined
effort to regain hold of the sleepiness which still drenched and
clouded her brain. This effort was too much, and on the instant the
last vestige of her drowsiness cleared away, and her brain grew keen as
flame. She sat up, determined to face the conflict and get it over.
As she sat up, her eyes fell upon the little table by her bedside,
whereon she was wont to keep her candle, her filagreed bottle of
lavender water, her much marked copy of Sir Philip Sidney's sonnets,
and her Bible, which was thumbed chiefly at Isaiah, Ecclesiastes, and
the Song of Solomon. Her eyes opened very wide as she saw there
now,--event unprecedented and unbelievable,--a little tray with white
linen napkin. On the tray were a glass and a jug of milk, a plate of
the seed-cakes which she particularly loved, a big slice of barley
bread, and a bowl of yellow raspberries. She stared for half a minute,
and rubbed her eyes, and thought. Abby, certainly, could not have done
it. She would neither have dared nor cared to. Then--it was Aunt
Hitty,--and after the way she had treated her,--and after that cold,
hateful letter! She reached out a doubtful hand and touched the bread
and berries. She started to eat a seed-cake, but it stuck in her
throat, quite unable to get past a certain strange, aching obstruction,
which had gathered there all at once. Tears suddenly streamed down her
face; and springing impulsively out of bed, she ran, barefooted and in
her white nightgown, straight to the little bow-windowed sewing-room,
where she knew that at this hour her aunt would be busy with the needle.
Mistress Mehitable had just time to thrust aside her needle and the
fine fabric she was fashioning before Barbara flung herself into her
arms, sobbing passionately. The good lady's heart warmed in response
to this outburst, and she held Barbara close to her breast, whispering,
"There, there, dearie, we just won't talk about it at all! We'll just
try hard to understand each other better in the future!"
At the same moment, while her eyes were filling with tears, she could
not help a whimsical thought of what Doctor John would say. "He would
say,"--she said to herself at the back of her brain,--"'Seed-cakes may
save a soul quicker than switchings, Mehitable!'" Mistress Mehitable's
earnest mind had no apprehension of humour save as it reached her by
reflection from Doctor John or Doctor Jim.
Presently Barbara found her voice.
"Forgive me, Aunt Hitty, forgive me!" she sobbed.
Mistress Mehitable held her a little closer by way of reply.
"I'm not worth your while, Aunt Hitty--I'm not one bit worth all the
trouble you take for me--I'm nothing but a wretched little reptile,
Aunt Hitty,--and I just wonder you don't hate and despise me!"
"There, there, dear," murmured Mistress Mehitable, patting her hair.
She was sure of her feelings, but could not be quite sure that words
would rightly express them at this crisis. If she talked, she knew she
might say the wrong thing. She'd leave it all to Barbara, and be safe
at least for the moment.
"I knew how bad I was," continued Barbara, justifying the statement by
remembrance of some brief and scattered moments of self-questioning.
"I knew how bad I was, but I couldn't say so, and I never, never knew
how lovely you could be, Aunt Hitty! I was so dreading to see you this
morning,--and then, oh, you just brought me the seed-cakes, and the
yellow raspberries, and never said one word!"
As she dwelt on this magnanimity, Barbara's sobs broke forth afresh.
"There, there, dear," murmured Mistress Mehitable again, and kissed her
tenderly, still refusing to be drawn from her intrenchments, but deeply
rejoicing in the triumph of her new strategy.
"To think--why, I never really knew you till now, Aunt Hitty!" and
Barbara hugged her with swift vehemence. "When I saw the things by my
bed, and thought of you stealing in and putting them there, and
stealing out without waking me,--oh, Aunt Hitty, I thought such a lot
all in one instant, and I knew you couldn't have done that, after me
being so bad, unless you loved me,--could you?"
"Indeed I couldn't!" answered Mistress Ladd, with conviction.
"And you will really and truly forgive me?" persisted Barbara.
This was a direct challenge, and Mistress Mehitable was too honest not
to come forth and meet it. She gently pushed Barbara off, and held her
so she could look straight into her fearless young eyes.
"I really and truly forgive you--and love you, Barbara!" she said.
"And"--she continued, with a slight hesitancy, in an instant's resolve
achieving a resolution,--"I ask you to forgive me for my
misunderstandings of you, and all my many mistakes."
"Why, Aunt Hitty!" exclaimed Barbara, too tender in her mood to agree
with these self-accusations, but too honest to contradict.
"I have failed to realise how, being so different from other girls, you
required different treatment from other girls," went on Mistress
Mehitable, firmly abasing herself. "I thought there was only one right
mould, and I must try to force you into it, however much the effort
should hurt us both, dear. I have been blind, very blind, and wrong.
In this remote little world of ours, Barbara, we get into ruts, and
come to think that the only way is our way."
Barbara's eyes were glowing with enthusiasm. She had discovered Aunt
Kitty's heart,--and now she was discovering a breadth and insight which
she could never have believed possible in that competent but seemingly
restricted brain. If Aunt Hitty could thus lift herself to look beyond
the atmosphere of Second Westings, and to understand people different
from those she had always been used to, she must be a very great woman.
Barbara's eyes flamed with the ardour of her appreciation. She did not
know what to say, but her expression was eloquent.
"That's a quotation from Doctor John," said the conscientious Mistress
Mehitable, suddenly afraid from Barbara's glowing look that she was
getting more credit than her due. "But I have become convinced of its
truth."
"How wise and good you are, Aunt Hitty! I'll never, never
misunderstand you again!" cried Barbara, rashly, breaking down Mistress
Mehitable's guard, and once more hugging her with vehemence.
Mistress Mehitable smiled, gratified but doubtful. She was surprised
at her own unexpected appreciation of Barbara's demonstrativeness and
warmth, so unlike anything that had ever before invaded the cool sphere
of her experience. She felt it her duty, however, to qualify Barbara's
extravagant expectations, not realising that what the impetuous girl
intended to express was rather a hope than a conviction.
"We hardly dare expect quite that, dear," she said, gently. "But at
least we can agree to trust each other's good intentions. We can
promise that, can't we?"
"Of course, I'll always trust you now, Aunt Hitty, since I've seen your
lovely heart!" exclaimed Barbara, with flattering fervour.
"I have failed to realise," continued Mistress Mehitable, "that you are
no longer a little girl, but very nearly a grown woman. Many girls are
grown women at your age, Barbara, so that I have decided on something
that will surprise you. From this time forward, I shift my
responsibility for you largely to your own shoulders, and shall hope to
be more your friend than your guardian. I hand you over to yourself,
Barbara. You must learn to discipline yourself!"
Barbara slipped down to the floor, and leaned against her aunt's knee,
her dark, small face grown very thoughtful.
"All I dare say, Aunt Hitty," she said, slowly, weighing her words with
unwonted care, "is that I'll try with all my might. But I warn you
that you are leaving me in very bad hands. I want to be good, but
sometimes I can't help being bad!"
"Well," said Mistress Mehitable, with a curious reflex of Doctor John's
humour, "you'll have to punish yourself after this. I warn you that
you must not look to me for punishment after this!"
Barbara's eyes got very wide, and danced; and she gave a little shriek
of delight, such as that with which she was wont to greet Doctor John's
whimsical sallies.
"Why, Aunt Hitty," she cried, clapping her hands, "you said that just
like Doctor John!"
Mistress Mehitable flushed faintly, and laughed like a girl. She
stooped over and kissed Barbara fairly on the mouth. Then she arose
rather hurriedly.
"I have often wished I could make myself in many ways more like those
two great-hearted gentlemen!" she said.
Barbara remained sitting upon the floor. Her eyes narrowed
thoughtfully as she stared out of the window.
"They are perfectly dear," she agreed, without reservation, "Isn't it
splendid that they love us so, Aunt Hitty?"
"I'm going to the still-room now," said Mistress Mehitable, moving
toward the door. "I put in the bergamot just before breakfast."
"I'll come and help you in a little while,--dear!" said Barbara,
suddenly realising the changed relations, and suddenly making practical
application of it. That caressing, equal, half-protecting "dear"
sounded strange to Mistress Mehitable. It gave her something of a
shock, yet she was not sure she didn't like it. It made her feel less
alone than of old. She appeared not to notice it, however, merely
saying before she vanished:
"If I'm not in the still-room, I'll be down the back garden, gathering
herbs. The lemon-thyme's in flower, if you're going to distill any
more of your 'Maryland Memories.' Uncle Robert might like a flask of
it."
"Lovely," said Barbara, dreamily. "We will make him some. I'll hurry."
But for a few minutes she did not hurry at all. Her rich, rebellious
hair all down about her vivid face, her thin little shapely feet
peeping out from under the frills of her white nightgown, she sat in
the square of sunshine and pondered. Since she fled away yesterday
morning, what a change had come about! She felt as if that wild and
foolish adventure was years behind her. A certain vague sense of
responsibility oppressed her, a responsibility to herself hitherto
unacknowledged. She made the momentous resolve that she would learn to
know herself a little, as a step to enabling other people, Robert Gault
and Aunt Hitty in particular, to understand her. She got up and
scrutinised herself keenly in the glass.
"You didn't know you were getting so grown up, did you, you ugly,
skinny, little black thing!" she muttered.
Then she flitted back to her own room, poured out a dish of milk for
the hungry kittens, and snatched at her breakfast by mouthfuls, while
she made her toilet and dressed. Last of all, before going to join
Mistress Mehitable, she sat down on the edge of her bed, and took the
kittens into her lap. One by one she held up their round, pinky-nosed
faces, and gazed seriously into their enigmatic young eyes.
"I want you to remember, now, my babies," said she, insisting upon
their unwilling attention, "that your missis is now most grow'd
up--she's grow'd up in one night, like old Mr. Jonah's gourd. I want
you to remember that we mustn't be silly and childish any more, except
just in private, and where we can't help it. And I want you to
remember that you mustn't try to coax your missis into mischief any
more like you did yesterday, going and helping her run off with the
canoe, and such foolishnesses. And I want you to remember that after
this, if we can think of it, it isn't going to be 'Aunt Hitty' this,
and 'Aunt Hitty' that, all the time,--but 'dear,' and 'honey' (as we
used to say in Maryland), and 'blue-eyed lady,' and 'small person,'
because we're just as tall as she is,--and we're too big to be punished
any more, if we are bad,--and Uncle Bob's coming next week,--and Robert
Gault may come any day, if he's impatient!"
With a face of unwonted sobriety, but dancing lights in her eyes, she
went to the door. With her hand on the latch she changed her mind.
Rushing to her glass, with a few deft touches she changed the
arrangement of her hair, heaping it over her ears, and leaving just one
crinkly curl to hang down over her left shoulder.
The change added years to her appearance. Then, snatching up a pair of
scissors, she swiftly ripped out a deep tuck in her frock, letting the
skirt down a good three inches. With vigorous brushings and assiduous
pattings she smoothed out the crease so that it was not obtrusive; and
severely checking her wonted rush and skip, she went to join Aunt Hitty
in the fragrant mysteries of the still-room.