"Oh, yes;" said Bessie, "all his names are Mr. Henry, Lane, Bradford."
"I thought so," said the gentleman, "she is the very image of Helen
Duncan. And where is your father, Bessie?"
"Up in the house, yeading to mamma," said Bessie, looking away from him
to the lady. She was very pretty and had a sweet smile. Bessie liked
her face very much and sat gazing at her as earnestly as she had before
done at the gentleman who presently said, "Well, what do you think of
this lady?"
"I think she is very pretty," said Bessie, turning her eyes back to him.
"So do I," said the gentleman, "do you think that I am very pretty,
too?"
"No," said Bessie.
"Then what do you think about me?"
"I think you are pretty 'quisitive," said the little girl, at which
both the lady and gentleman laughed heartily; but Bessie looked very
sober.
"Will you give me a kiss, little one?" asked the stranger.
"No," said Bessie, "I had yather not."
"Why, you are not afraid of me?"
"Oh, no!" said Bessie, "I am not afraid of soldiers; I like them."
"Then why won't you kiss me?"
"I don't kiss strangers, if they're gentlemen," said Bessie.
"And that is very prudent, too," said the soldier, who seemed very much
amused; "but then you see I am not quite a stranger."
"Oh, what a--I mean I think you are mistaken, sir," said Bessie.
"Don't tease her, dear," said the lady.
"But, little Bessie," said the gentleman, "do you call people strangers
who know a great deal about you?"
"No," said Bessie; "but you don't know anything about me."
"Yes, I do; in the first place I know that you are a very kind and
polite little girl who is ready to give up her place to a lame soldier.
Next, I know that your father's name is Mr. Henry, Lane, Bradford, and
that yours is Bessie Rush Bradford, and that you look very much like
your aunt, Helen Duncan. Then I know that you have a little sister,
whose name is--let me see, well, I think her name is Margaret, after
your mother; and you have two brothers, Harry and Fred. There is
another little one, but I have forgotten his name."
"Franky," said Bessie; "and we have baby, too."
"Ah, well, I have never made baby's acquaintance. And this is not your
home, but you live in New York, at No. 15 ---- street, where I have
spent many a pleasant hour. And more than all this, I know there is a
lady in Baltimore named Elizabeth Rush, who loves you very much, and
whom you love; and that a few days since you wrote a letter to her and
told her how sorry you were that her brother who was 'shooted' had had
his foot cut off."
While the gentleman was saying all this, Bessie had slipped off her
stone and come up to him, and now she was standing, with one little
hand on his knee, looking up eagerly into his face.
"Why, do you know the lady whom I call my Aunt Bessie?" she said.
"Indeed I do; and now if you are so sorry for Aunt Bessie's brother,
would you not like to do something to help him?"
"I can't," said Bessie; "I am too little."
"Yes, you can," said the colonel, "you can give me a kiss, and that
would help me a great deal."
"Why," said Bessie, again, "do you mean that you are Colonel Yush, dear
Aunt Bessie's brother?"
"To be sure I am," said the colonel; "and now are you going to give me
the kiss for her sake?"
"Yes, sir, and for your own sake, too."
"Capital, we are coming on famously, and shall soon be good friends at
this rate," said the colonel as he stooped and kissed the rosy little
mouth which Bessie held up to him.
"Will you tell me about it?" she said.
"About what?"
"About how you was in that country, called India, which papa says is
far away over the sea, and how the wicked heathen named, named--I can't
yemember."
"Sepoys?" said the colonel.
"Yes, Sepoys: how the Sepoys, who you thought were your friends, made a
great fight, and killed the soldiers and put the ladies and dear little
babies down a well. And how brave you was and how you was fighting and
fighting not to let the Sepoys hurt some poor sick soldiers in the
hospital; and the well soldiers wanted to yun away, but you wouldn't
let them, but made the Sepoys yun away instead, and went after them.
And then they came back with ever so many more to help them, and you
and your soldiers had to go away, but you took all the sick men with
you and did not let them be hurt. And you saw a soldier friend of yours
who was dying, and he asked you not to let the Sepoys find him, and
you put him on your horse and carried him away, and the Sepoys almost
caught you. And how the very next day there was a dreadful, dreadful
battle when more soldiers came, and your foot was shooted and your
side; and your foot had to be cut off in the hospital, and would not
get well for a long, long while. And how there was a lady that you
wanted for your wife, and you came to our country to get her--oh, I
guess that's the lady!" Bessie stopped as she looked at the pretty
lady, and the colonel smiled as he said,--
"You are right, Bessie; and what more?"
"And when you were coming in the ship, there was a little boy who fell
in the water and you forgot your lame foot and jumped in after him, and
your foot was hurt so much it had to be cut off some more. So please
tell me all about it, sir."
Bessie said all this just as fast as her little tongue would go, and
the colonel sat watching her with a very amused look on his face. "Upon
my word, you are well posted, little one. I do not know that I could
tell the story better myself; how did you learn so much?"
"Oh, Aunt Bessie put it in the letters she yote to mamma, and mamma
told us about it, and Harry yeads and yeads it; and Maggie made a nice
play about it. Harry gets on the yocking horse and plays he is Colonel
Yush, and Fred is the soldier that you helped."
"Very good," said the colonel, "and what are you and Maggie?"
"Oh! we are Harry's soldiers, I mean _your_ soldiers, and Franky is,
too; and we have the nursery chairs for horses, and our dolls for sick
soldiers, and we have the pillows for Sepoys, and we poke them; and
nurse don't like it, 'cause she says we make a yumpus and a muss in the
nursery."
"I should think so," said the colonel, laughing heartily.
"Will you tell me the story?" asked Bessie.
"I think I had better tell you another, since you know that so well,"
said Colonel Rush; "I will tell you one about a drummer boy."
But just as he began the story Bessie saw her father coming towards
them, and in another minute he and the colonel were shaking hands and
seeming so glad to see one another. Then Mr. Bradford turned and looked
at the pretty lady, and the colonel said, "Yes, this is the lady of
whom you have heard as Miss Monroe, now Mrs. Rush. She has taken charge
of what is left of me."
"Isn't she _perfaly_ lovely, papa?" asked Bessie, as Mr. Bradford took
off his hat and shook hands with the lady, and she saw a pretty pink
color come into her cheeks which made her look sweeter than ever. Papa
looked as if he quite agreed with his little daughter, but he only
smiled and said, "My Bessie speaks her mind on all occasions."
"So I see," said the colonel, looking very much pleased.
"Did I talk too much, sir?" asked Bessie, not knowing exactly whether
he meant to find fault with her, for she was sometimes told at home
that she talked too much.
"Not one word," he answered; "and I hope you will often come and see
me at my rooms in the hotel, and talk to me there. I am very fond of
little children."
"If mamma will let me," said Bessie; "but I can't come _very_ often,
'cause I don't want to be away from Maggie."
"Oh, Maggie must come, too," said the colonel.
"Maggie is shy," said Bessie.
"Well, you bring her to my room, and we will see if I have not
something there that will cure her shyness."
But papa called Maggie to come and see Colonel and Mrs. Rush, and when
she heard that this was the brave English soldier about whom she had
made the famous play, her shyness was forgotten at once, and she was
quite as ready to be friends as Bessie, though she had not much to say.
"You know, Bessie," she said afterwards, "we're so very acquainted with
him in our hearts, he is not quite a stranger."
The next morning, Mrs. Bradford went to the hotel to call on Mrs.
Rush, taking Maggie and Bessie with her; and from this time the little
girls and the colonel were the best friends possible, though Bessie
was his particular pet and plaything, and she always called him her
soldier. When he felt well enough, and the day was not too warm, he
would come out and sit on the beach for an hour or two. The moment he
came moving slowly along on his crutches, Bessie was sure to see him,
and no matter what she was doing, off she would run to meet him. As
long as he stayed she never left him, and her mother sometimes feared
that the colonel might grow tired of having such a little child so much
with him, but he told her it was a great pleasure to him; and indeed
it seemed to be so, for though there were a great many people at Quam
Beach who knew him and liked to talk to him, he never forgot the little
friend who sat so quietly at his side, and had every now and then a
word, or smile, or a touch of his hand for her.
Bessie had been taught that she must not interrupt when grown people
were speaking; so, though she was a little chatterbox when she had
leave to talk, she knew when it was polite and proper for her to be
quiet.
If the colonel could not come down to the shore, he was almost sure to
send for Maggie and Bessie to come to his room, until it came to be
quite a settled thing that they were to pass some time there every day
when he did not go out, and many a pleasant hour did they spend there.
He told them the most delightful and interesting stories of people and
things that he had seen while he was in India, being always careful not
to tell anything that might shock or grieve them, from the day that he
was speaking of the sad death of a little drummer boy, when, to his
great surprise and distress, both children broke into a violent fit
of crying, and it was some time before they could be pacified. Then
such toys as he carved out of wood! He made a little boat with masts
and sails for each of them, which they used to sail in the pools that
were left by the tide; and a beautiful set of jack-straws, containing
arrows, spears, swords, trumpets, and guns.
One day he asked Harry to bring him some sprigs from the spruce tree,
and the next time Maggie and Bessie came to see him, there was a tiny
set of furniture,--a sofa and half a dozen chairs to match, all made
of those very sprigs. He used to lie and carve, while Mrs. Rush was
reading to him; and sometimes he worked while the children were there,
and it was such a pleasure to watch him. Then he had some books with
fine pictures, and oh! wonder of wonders, and what the children liked
best of all, such a grand musical-box, they had never seen one like
it. Mamma had a small one which played three tunes, but it was a baby
musical-box to this, which was so very much larger, and played twenty.
They never tired of it, at least Bessie did not; and she would sit
looking into it and listening so earnestly that often she seemed to see
and hear nothing else around her. Maggie was fond of it, too, but she
could not keep quiet so long as Bessie, and often wanted to be off and
playing out of doors long before her sister was ready to go.
There were many days when the colonel was suffering too much pain to
talk or play with them, and they had to be very still if they went into
his room. Then Maggie never cared to stay very long, nor indeed did
the colonel care much to have her; for though she tried her best to be
gentle and quiet, those restless little hands and feet seemed as if
they must be moving; and she was almost sure to shake his sofa, or to
go running and jumping across the room, in a way that distressed him
very much, though her merry ways amused him when he was able to bear
them. Quiet little mouse of a Bessie went stealing about so softly that
she never disturbed the sick man; and so it came about that she spent
many an hour in his room without Maggie. Maggie never half enjoyed her
play, if her sister was not with her; but she was not selfish, and did
not complain if Bessie sometimes left her for a while.