"Yes, if my mother had lived, Bessie, I might have been different. I
suppose I do many things I should not do if I had a mother to care
about it; but there is no one to care, and I don't know why I should
myself. I may as well take my fun."
"Miss Adams," said Bessie, "hasn't your mother gone to heaven?"
"Yes, I suppose so," said the young lady, looking a little
startled,--"yes, I am sure of it. They say she was a good woman."
"Then don't she care up there?"
"I don't know. They say heaven is a happy place. I should not think my
mother could be very happy even there, if she cared about me and saw me
now."
"Do you mean she wouldn't like to see you do those things you say you
ought not to do?"
"Yes."
"Then why don't you do things that will make her happy? I would try to,
if my mother went to heaven."
"What would you do?"
"I don't know," said Bessie.
"I suppose you would not pull little girls' hair, or tease them, or
behave like a kitchen lady."
"Please don't speak of that any more," said Bessie, coloring.
"And your mother thinks I have too much money; does she? Well, I do not
know but I have, if having more than I know what to do with is having
too much."
"Why don't you give some away?" Bessie asked.
"I do, and then am scolded for it. I drove down the other day to take
some to those shipwrecked people, and the next day Mr. Howard came to
me with his long face and told me I had done more harm than good; for
some of them had been drinking with the money I gave them, and had a
fight and no end of trouble. That is always the way. I am tired of
myself, of my money, and everything else."
Bessie did not know what to make of this odd young lady, who was
talking in such a strange way to her, but she could not help feeling
sorry for her as she stood leaning on the wall with a tired,
disappointed look on her face, and said these words in a troubled voice.
"Miss Adams," she said, "why don't you ask our Father in heaven to give
you some one to take care of you and your money, and to make you--"
Bessie stopped short.
"Well," said Miss Adams, smiling, "to make me what?"
"I am afraid you would not like me to say it," said Bessie, fidgeting
on her hard seat. "I think I had better go to nurse."
"You shall go, but I would like to hear what you were going to say. To
make me what?"
"To make you behave yourself," said Bessie, gravely, not quite sure she
was doing right to say it.
But Miss Adams laughed outright, then looked grave again.
"There are plenty of people would like to take care of my money,
Bessie, and there are some people who try, or think they try, to make
me behave myself; but not because they care for me, only because they
are shocked by the things I do. So I try to shock them more than ever."
Bessie was sure this was not right, but she did not like to tell Miss
Adams so.
"But I am sorry I shocked you, Bessie, and made you think me no lady.
Now tell me that you forgive me, and shake hands with me. I am going
away to-morrow, and may never see you again."
Bessie put her little hand in Miss Adams', and lifted up her face to
her.
"I'll kiss you now," she said, "and I'm sorry I wouldn't that day."
The young lady looked pleased, and stooping, she kissed her two or
three times, then took her hand to lead her back to nurse. Nurse was
just rising from her seat and looking anxiously up at the sky.
"There's a cloud coming over the sun," she said; "I'm afraid it is
going to rain."
"I expect it is," said Miss Adams; "I saw there was a shower coming as
I drove down the hill, but I did not think it would be here for some
time yet."
Just then the boys and Jane came running up to them, Jane carrying
Maggie in her arms.
"Oh, nursey!" called Maggie, "it's going to gust. We thought you would
be gone home. Why, there's Miss Adams!"--and Maggie stopped. Not only
she, but all the rest of the party were very much surprised to see
Miss Adams standing there, and seeming so friendly with Bessie and
nurse. But there was no time to say anything.
There was indeed a gust coming. The edge of a black cloud was just
showing itself over the woods which had hidden it till now from nurse.
"Make haste!" cried Harry; "I never saw a cloud come up so fast."
"Quick, nurse!" said Miss Adams; "jump into the pony carriage with the
little ones, and we will be home in less than no time. Quick, now!"
Nurse made no objections now to the "gimcrack." She thought of nothing
but how to get her babies home before the storm should overtake them.
She bundled into the carriage with baby, while Miss Adams, laughing as
if she enjoyed the fun, packed in Maggie, Bessie, and Franky beside
her. "Hurry up, now, Tip!" she said to the groom, and giving the ponies
a crack with her whip, away they dashed down the road.
"Now, boys, try if we can outrun the clouds. See who'll be first at
the bend in the road. One, two, three, and away!" and off she went,
with Fred and Harry after her, while Jane stood still for a moment in
amazement at the pranks of this strange young lady, and then followed
as fast as her feet could carry her.
Meanwhile, on went the carriage with its precious load, nurse, as soon
as they were fairly started, wishing they were all out again, and every
minute begging Tip to drive carefully, and not upset them, to which
he did not pay the least attention. But they reached home without
accident, and found papa and Uncle John setting out to meet them.
It was growing very dark now. The black cloud had covered nearly the
whole sky, and a white line was moving swiftly along the water, showing
that a furious wind was sweeping over the waves. In another minute they
were in the house, and right glad was the anxious mother to see her
little ones.
"But where are Harry and Fred?" she said; "and how came you home in
that?" looking at the carriage.
"Miss Adams sent us," said Maggie, "and the boys are coming with her."
"And she didn't let him fall in, mamma," said Bessie, "and she is all
wet. But she only laughed. She's been talking to me, and I was sorry
for her, and she's sorry 'cause she pulled my hair. I kissed her, so we
are friends now."
"Miss Adams!" said Mrs. Bradford, in great surprise.
"Yes, ma'am, Miss Adams," said nurse, giving baby to her mother, "and
surely I think she's turned over a new leaf. She's been talking to
Bessie as tame as a lamb, and making friends with her, and that after
me giving her a piece of my mind. And she saved that boy there (oh, you
naughty fellow!) from drowning; for what could I have done?"
"Saved my boy from drowning!" said Mrs. Bradford, turning pale.
Then nurse told how Miss Adams' presence of mind had saved Franky from
a fall, and probably from being carried away and drowned. Just as she
finished her story, the young lady and the boys came up.
Mr. and Mrs. Bradford went out on the piazza, to meet Miss Adams, but
she did not mean to come in, nor could she be persuaded to do so,
though the large drops of rain were beginning to plash heavily down;
nor would she listen to any thanks from Mrs. Bradford.
"But you are heated with your run," said Mrs. Bradford, "come in and
have some dry clothes. You will be drenched in this pouring rain, and
will take cold."
"No fear," said Miss Adams, laughing. "The second wetting will do me no
harm; nothing ever hurts me. Good-by. Good-by, dear little Bessie." She
stooped to kiss her, and running down the bank, snatched the reins from
the groom, jumped into the carriage, and kissing her hand, drove away
through all the rain.
"Strange, wild girl," said Mrs. Bradford, with a sigh, as she turned
into the house.
"But there must be some good in her, mamma, when she gave up her
carriage to the children, and walked or rather ran all the way here,"
said Harry; "and she didn't seem to think she'd done anything at all.
How she did scud though! I don't like to see a woman act the way she
does, and I can't quite forgive her about Carlo and Bessie; but I do
think there's some good in her."
"Ah, Harry," said his mother. "There is some good in every one, if we
only knew how to find it."