MOUSEY LEARNS SHE IS TO GO TO SCHOOL; AND MAKES A NEW ACQUAINTANCE
MR. HARDING supplied Mousey with a postage stamp for her letter; and
in the course of a few days she had an answer from Aunt Eliza,
enclosing sixpence—in stamps—from Uncle Dick. It was the first letter
she had ever received, and she was so pleased that she showed it to
each member of the household. Maria said she was sure Mrs. Dawson was
a good woman, and she did not wonder her niece loved her so much. John
Monday remarked that he wished he had an aunt to write a letter
to him, and an uncle to send him a present, and wanted to know how
Mousey was going to spend her money; whilst Mr. Harding appeared
gratified at being offered the epistle to read, and expressed his
approval of its contents.
"Your aunt is a sensible woman," he told the little girl; "she has
written you some good advice, which I hope you mean to follow."
"Oh, yes," Mousey answered earnestly, "indeed I do."
"Shall I purchase your stamps from you?" he asked.
"Thank you, Cousin Robert. Will you please take four, and let me keep
two? because I shall want to write to Aunt Eliza again."
"Very well," he agreed. "I've no objection to your writing letters now
and then; but, remember, each letter costs a penny. If you mind your
pence the shillings will take care of themselves."
"Yes, Cousin Robert," she replied.
"You must learn to be economical, child," he continued gravely, as he
gave her fourpence in exchange for four stamps; "take care of your
money—take care of it. Your uncle is very generous, very!"
"Oh, yes," she cried; "there's no one so kind as dear Uncle Dick!"
"He'll never die a rich man," he responded, as he turned away.
By this time the little girl was overcoming her first dislike to her
new home. Cousin Robert, when he took any notice of her, which was not
often, spoke to her kindly; Maria was her very good friend; and John
Monday seemed to enjoy a chat with her if Mr. Harding was not near to
put a check on his speech. Mousey was perfectly satisfied with the
plain food which was provided for the household, for she had not been
accustomed to luxuries; in fact, she could remember certain occasions
when she and her mother had scarcely had enough money to get the
necessaries of life; so she never grumbled as John Monday did—though
not in his master's hearing—if the dinner was not to his liking.
One day Mousey was informed that she was to go to school on the
following Monday.
"I hope you'll be a good girl," Mr. Harding said, "and learn all you
possibly can. Remember that most probably you will have your own
living to get one of these days, and it's to your advantage to get
as much knowledge as you can."
"Yes, Cousin Robert," she replied earnestly; "you will see how hard
I shall try to get on."
"And remember, too, that schooling costs money. If you don't make use
of the advantages I give you, you might just as well put your hand
into my pocket and rob me. Do you understand that, eh?"
Mousey looked somewhat alarmed, for Mr. Harding's sharp eyes seemed
to be piercing her through and through. She longed to say that she was
not a thief, and hoped she never would be, but a choking sensation
in her throat made her incapable of speech.
"You will not have far to go every day," Mr. Harding proceeded, "only
about ten minutes' walk. The person who keeps the school is called
Mrs. Downing. She is a lady—oh, yes, quite a lady! Her husband was a
doctor, who died about six months ago, leaving her unprovided for,
so she has commenced a school in hopes of being able to make a living
out of it. She has not many pupils at present, but doubtless the
school will increase. Mrs. Downing is under obligations to me—great
obligations."
He paused for a minute, then continued—
"I was able to be of service to Mrs. Downing's late husband, and she
is not unmindful of the fact. This is an ungrateful world, as a rule,
and folks get little thanks for lending others a helping hand, but—"
He paused, seeing, by the look of utter bewilderment on the child's
face, that she failed to follow him.
They were in the parlour, whilst John Monday was in charge of the
shop. As Mr. Harding broke off in the midst of his sentence, the bell
suspended to the shop door rang, and Mousey saw that a customer had
arrived. She recognised the clergyman she had heard preach at the
mission chapel on Easter Sunday.
Mr. Harding stepped quietly into the shop, leaving the glass door
ajar, so that Mousey could hear every word that passed.
"I have called to see if my watch is ready," Mr. Bradley said in his
clear, pleasant voice, as he turned to address Mr. Harding.
[Illustration: "HERE, MOUSEY, A GENTLEMAN'S INQUIRING ABOUT YOU."]
"Yes, sir," was the response; "I have cleaned it and put it in order.
John, where is Mr. Bradley's watch?"
John Monday produced it from a drawer under the counter and handed it
to its owner.
"Thank you," Mr. Bradley said. "What have I to pay?"
"Three shillings, if you please, sir."
The clergyman paid the money, but lingered still. "Anything else I can
do for you to-day, sir?" inquired Mr. Harding.
"No, thank you. They tell me that you have adopted a little girl,
Mr. Harding. Is that a fact?"
"I suppose it is," the old man admitted. "At any rate, I am making
a home for a little girl, the daughter of a cousin of mine who is
dead. The poor child has no friends to do anything for her except
myself and an aunt and uncle—very good people in their way, no doubt,
but, to my mind, utterly improvident! They have quite enough to do to
look after their own children, I should say. I've taken the little
girl, and mean to be a friend to her if she behaves herself. Here,
Mousey, a gentleman's inquiring about you! Come here."
At the sound of Mr. Harding's voice calling to her the child started,
and her face flushed rosy red. She stepped into the shop, however,
where Mr. Bradley greeted her with a pleasant smile, at the same time
holding out his hand. Mousey slipped her fingers into his with a
feeling of confidence and trust.
"What is your name, my dear?" he asked, after he had shaken hands
with her.
"Arabella Abbot, sir," she answered, "but everyone calls me Mousey."
He smiled and looked at her curiously, with a puzzled air, as he
inquired—
"Surely I have seen you before, have I not? Why, of course,
I remember. You were at the mission chapel with Mr. Harding's servant,
who is a regular attendant on Sunday evenings. I thought I knew your
face."
"Fancy your noticing her!" Mr. Harding exclaimed. "You must have
a wonderfully good memory for faces, sir."
"Yes, I believe I have," was the response; "but you must remember
I have been here for two years, and the countenances of most of the
members of my congregation are familiar to me. I generally notice
a stranger."
He did not say that he had been struck by Mousey's face because it had
been so earnest and attentive, but he looked at the little girl very
kindly, noting her mourning dress, and the wistful expression in the
soft brown eyes.
"The child lost her mother a little more than a month ago," Mr.
Harding explained, "and she's not in her usual spirits—or, at any
rate, she's much quieter than most children. However, I'm sending her
to school on Monday, and that will be a change for her, and give her
plenty to occupy her mind with. Perhaps you know that Dr. Downing's
widow has opened a school, sir?"
"Yes," Mr. Bradley answered; "I hope she will make it a success."
"My little cousin is to be one of her pupils this coming term," Mr.
Harding went on. "I wish the child to have a good education, and I am
informed that Mrs. Downing was a governess before she married, and a
clever, competent teacher. It is fortunate for her she can work
for her living."
Mr. Bradley agreed that it was very fortunate, and after a little
further conversation proceeded on his way, whilst Mousey retired to
the kitchen to tell Maria that she was to go to school on the
following Monday, and that she had made the acquaintance of the
clergyman who preached at the mission chapel.
"I think Mr. Bradley is one of the nicest gentlemen I ever met," said
Mousey, whose experience had not been large. "There was a look in his
face that reminded me of Uncle Dick, though I don't know how that
could be, because Mr. Bradley is rather pale and thin, and Uncle Dick
is big, and his cheeks are quite rosy."
"Then they can't be in the least alike," exclaimed Maria, laughing.
"Oh, but they are!" the little girl persisted.
Maria was engaged in peeling potatoes. Mousey watched her in silence
for a few minutes, wondering at the puzzled expression on the woman's
face.
"What are you thinking about, Maria?" she asked at length.
"I was thinking how apt one is to misjudge others, my dear. Now,
it never occurred to me that master would send you to Mrs. Downing's
school; I thought he'd send you to some place cheaper. It appears that
though I've lived with him so many years, I don't understand him yet.
Well, all I can say is, I hope you'll learn all you possibly can, and
then he won't feel his money is wasted."
"I mean to try to get on," Mousey answered soberly. "I promise you
I won't waste Cousin Robert's money if I can help it."