Now came an anxious period in Hatty's home. Mrs. Lee, and a nurse who
was hired for the purpose, spent their time in Aunt Barbara's room,
while the Doctor came and went with a troubled, serious air.
On Hatty, meanwhile, fell the care of Meg and Harry. Hatty found having
Meg in her room by no means so troublesome as she had expected. Meg's
desire to meddle with Hatty's things, and to put them out of order,
seemed to have gone now that she could say "our room." She even made
herself a kind of guardian against Harry's inroads; and when she heard
his little feet pattering that way, she would get in advance of him with
her swift skips, and have the door shut before he reached it.
Hatty found it quite impossible to keep the children quiet, so she
managed to have them in the garden as much as she could, in pleasant
weather, that they might not disturb Aunt Barbara.
At the foot of the wide walk that led down between the flower beds, was
a pleasant arbour, and here Hatty made a kind of a little home of her
own. Marcus put up a tight box on one of the seats, and there Hatty kept
a store of books and playthings for herself and the children, to make
the place attractive, and looked so bright and happy herself, that when
Marcus came from school he was glad to leave the dull, quiet house, to
join the circle in the arbour.
Hatty was busy sewing there, one day, while Meg made a parasol for her
doll, of a maple leaf, and Harry drew a long-necked squash up and down
the walk for a carriage. Suddenly Hatty heard Marcus come out the back
door, whistling a cheerful tune. Hatty tucked her work in her pocket,
and quickly picked up some bits of bright-colored worsted that were
scattered over her dress.
Marcus came down the walk, kicking a ball before him, and leaped into
the arbour with a regular bound.
"Well, Hatty," he exclaimed, "I was head of my class to-day, and did
not get a mark for being late, either. So I stand a chance for the prize
yet."
"Were you not late?" asked Hatty, with surprise.
"O yes!" answered Marcus, with a laugh. "The boys were all on their
knees when I went in, but I opened the door quietly, and nobody heard
me; so I got off famously."
"But what did you say when your name was called? You did not tell an
untruth, Marcus?" said Hatty, anxiously.
"No, indeed!" said Marcus, indignantly. "I am above that!"
"I don't understand it at all," said Hatty, uneasily.
"Why, this was the way. When Mr. Briggs called over the names for
punctuality, some how or other his attention wandered just before he got
to my name, and he skipped it, so I did not have to answer at all. After
Mr. Briggs went out I looked at my name, and there was a cross after it
for punctual; so you see it is all right, and my chance for the prize is
as good as ever."
"I would rather have a brother who told the truth, than one who got the
prize," said Hatty, earnestly. "Dear Marcus, won't you tell Mr. Briggs
about it?"
"I shall do no such thing. Girls are so silly! You never can make them
understand anything," said Marcus, hastily.
But Hatty did understand. She felt that Marcus had acted a lie for the
sake of winning the prize he so greatly desired. She knew he would be
angry if she said anything more about it; but she could not be silent
and let him do wrong, without one more effort. After a moment, in which
she asked God to help her to keep down her own quick temper if Marcus
should make a harsh reply, Hatty said:
"Marcus, you know what mother tells us about the book where what we call
secret things are written down, to be read on the great day when all
things will be known. Something will stand against your name, there,
worse than a mark for being unpunctual. Dear Marcus, do tell the truth,
and not mind the prize. You will not care about the prize when you are
happy with the beautiful angels in Heaven; but you will love to remember
how you did right, when it came so very hard."
It had cost Hatty a great effort to say all this, and now she burst
into tears.
"Girls are so silly!" said Marcus, impatiently. "I wish you would not
set up to lecture me, Miss?" and the brother walked angrily away.
"For shame! For shame!" shouted little Meg, who had been an unnoticed
listener to the conversation, and her slender finger was pointed at her
brother. He took no notice of her; and she turned to Hatty, and threw
her arms round her neck, and said: "Don't cry, sister. Meg will be a
good girl. I will try very hard."
"Will you, Meg?" said Hatty, brightening. "Then I shall be very happy."
Now Meg had only wanted to say something to comfort Hatty, and had
spoken the first words that came into her mind, without thinking what
they meant. When she saw Hatty seem so much pleased, she thought to
herself: "I do mean to try, if Hatty wants it so very much."
At that moment Harry's voice was heard in loud, angry screams. Hatty and
Meg ran to the spot from whence they came. Marcus walked sheepishly
away, as they appeared, ashamed to own that in his ill-humor he had
been teasing his little brother.
Harry was a sweet-tempered, affectionate little fellow, ready to put up
his mouth to kiss anybody who smiled upon him; but now he had been too
far provoked to bear all patiently.
Marcus had run away with his yellow carriage and dashed it against a
stone, until all the seeds that had been riding about so comfortably
were scattered far and wide on the grass. Then, because he looked
displeased, and said, "Naughty boy!" Marcus had perched him on the high
chicken-coop, and left him to scream for himself, or roll off as he best
could.
Hatty took the little fellow in her arms and wiped away his tears. She
promised to hunt with him for a "beautiful squash," larger than the one
he had lost,--and he was soon comforted, and began to smooth her face and
say, "Dear Hatty--Hatty so dood."
"Yes, Hatty is so good," echoed Meg.
"Sister is only trying to be good," said Hatty, modestly. But the praise
of the little ones went to her heart.
Marcus was sulky towards Hatty all the noon. He did not go out to help
her feed the bantams, though she went through the room where he was,
with the food in her hand, to give him a chance, if he wished, to join
her pleasantly.
Hatty loved her brother, and since she had been making an effort to
govern her temper, she had enjoyed being with him. He, too, found in her
a very pleasant companion. She was ready to listen to him when he
talked, and let herself be instructed, though she sometimes knew as much
as he did about the subjects of which he was speaking. Marcus did not
teaze Hatty much of late, as she had learned to laugh, herself, even
when he warmed his hands by her red hair, or asked her if she was so
hot-tempered that she had set her head on fire in a passion.
Marcus was glad that day when it came time for him to go to school
again, though he generally thought the intermission quite too short. He
missed Hatty, and he felt uneasy about what she had said. An
uncomfortable feeling was at his heart. He was acting a lie! The truth
had been plainly told him, and he could not forget it.