VISIT TO THE COTTAGE.
The evening of this first day at Oak Villa had been very pleasantly
spent by Aunt Mary and her nieces at Mr. Maitland's, where the young
people engaged themselves on the lawn, while the elders talked over the
various events of the very eventful times, without being able to come to
any conclusion as to how they were to be mended.
Mabel either really _was_ in a very gracious humour this evening, or the
fact of a young gentleman being of their party made her careful not to
give way to temper; though it must be confessed that Harry tried it two
or three times. However, all went on smoothly enough, and at nine
o'clock the friends separated.
The gorgeous sunset gave token of a fine day on the morrow, when Clara
anticipated the pleasure of finishing her labour of love, and taking a
most acceptable present to her poor friends the Simmonses. The bell rang
at the usual time in the morning, and after breakfast the work of the
day before was resumed.
'Two hours, I think, will finish what you want to take with you to-day,'
said Aunt Mary, 'so you will have time to go before dinner. You can take
poor Simmons some eggs, and Bridget has a rice pudding in the oven for
the children.'
'How delighted they will be to see us again; only I wish you could have
gone with us, aunt,' said Clara.
'I wish I could have done so, but I expect a person to call on business
this morning, so I must not be out of the way,' said the lady.
Steadily the work progressed; even Mabel, by the aid of her bright
silver thimble and sharp needle, seemed to get on better than she had
done the day before: so that not only was the night-shirt finished, but
a little pinafore had been cut out and completed in less than the two
hours. And now all had been packed up, the two girls were ready for
their walk; and the careful Bridget had placed the pudding and the eggs
in an oval basket for Clara to carry, while they were preparing for
their walk.
'It will be frightfully hot walking this morning, I know,' said Mabel.
'I wish our visit to the cottage could be put off until the evening; go
and ask Aunt Mary if it may, Clara,' she added.
'No, I couldn't do that,' replied her cousin. 'Aunt never tells us to do
anything that is unreasonable, and I know that she wishes very much that
the children should have the pudding for their dinner, and that the poor
sick man should have the new-laid eggs. Come, Mabel dear, be quick,' she
added; 'we shall be under the shade of the trees great part of the way.'
'And who is to carry the basket and this parcel?' inquired Mabel, giving
a rather contemptuous look at the rolled-up work.
'You may carry whichever you like,' said Clara; 'it does not matter to
me which I take. Indeed, I shouldn't mind if I had to carry both,
neither of them are heavy.'
'Perhaps not,' said the proud girl, 'but it is so servant-like to be
carrying parcels and baskets; I wonder Aunt Mary likes you to do it.'
'Oh, Mabel!' cried her cousin, 'I can't help laughing at you. Why, you
should see what bundles aunt and I do carry sometimes. I suppose you
would be quite shocked.'
'I shouldn't wish to be seen with you,' replied the silly girl. 'I don't
think, either, that it is any laughing matter.' And Clara, knowing that
it was a waste of time to argue the case any further, took up the
obnoxious bundle, and ran downstairs; while Mabel followed, to find on
the hall-table her share of the disagreeable, in the closely-packed
basket.
It really was a very hot walk that the cousins had before them, in spite
of the occasional shade of the tall trees, and they were not at all
sorry when they reached the small cottage of James Simmons, and were
invited to sit and rest on the chairs, which the good wife dusted and
put ready for them.
The cottage was very poorly supplied with furniture--one table, and four
chairs, and a stool, on which stood the washing-tub, out of which Mrs.
Simmons was wringing some clothes from very hot water, when her visitors
entered. If, however, there was but little furniture, there was no lack
of children, and three of them were rolling about the floor, while a
girl, it might be of the age of seven, was making an attempt to wash
some stockings. Her small fingers did not seem to be equal to the task
of rubbing and wringing, yet she was evidently proud of her
occupation--a great deal more so than her brother appeared of his, in
trying to take care of the youngest child, a chubby infant of six months
old, who would persist in rolling off his knee, and making towards the
fireplace, there to become a regular Cinderella.
This scene, I need hardly say, was anything but delightful to the new
visitor, though she did not refuse to seat herself on the offered chair;
while poor Mrs. Simmons, with many apologies for being found in such a
rough state, wiped her hot face with her apron, and took the little one
up from the floor, to the great relief of her brother Johnny, who
appeared particularly interested in the contents of the basket, which
Clara was proceeding to set upon the table.
'Let me take the baby, Mrs. Simmons, while you put the eggs into a
basin; I am afraid of their rolling off the table,' said Clara, as she
held out her arms to take the very pretty, but certainly not very clean
little one.
'Oh, miss! she is not in a fit state for you to nurse,' replied the
woman; 'I am quite ashamed that you should have found us all so dirty,
but indeed I cannot help it. What with my husband being ill so long, and
the washing, which must be done, I don't know sometimes which way to
turn.'
'My aunt wants much to know how your husband is,' said Clara; 'she would
have come with us this morning, but she had an engagement.'
'The doctor thinks, miss, that my husband may get well, though he says
it may be many weeks yet before he will be able to walk. He has had a
weary time of it, and if it had not been for Miss Livesay's kindness,
and that of our good vicar and his wife, I think he could not have
lived; for he required more nourishment than I could obtain for him, if
I worked ever so hard.'
'I know how glad my aunt will be to hear this good news,' said Clara;
'and she has sent one of the night-shirts that we have made; I dare say
she will bring the other herself. And now let me try on the pinafore for
baby; I want to see whether it will fit.' Baby, however, stoutly
resisted this trial, using arms and legs with marvellous dexterity, and
almost twisting herself out of mother's arms; so the contest was given
up for fear of creating a noise, which would have disturbed the invalid:
while Clara's second suggestion, that baby should have some pudding,
appeared to give entire satisfaction, and produced perfect calm, under
which state of things the visitors rose to go, Mabel not having
exchanged a word either with mother or children the whole time, and
standing on the threshold of the door, waiting for her cousin, who was
shaking hands with Mrs. Simmons, and bestowing a parting kiss on the red
round cheeks of the now smiling baby.
The young people walked on a short distance in silence; each had their
own peculiar thoughts of the other. Mabel was the first to break calm.
Then she said: 'How you could kiss that dirty little thing and offer to
nurse it, I can't conceive, Clara; it quite sickens me to think of it,'
said Mabel, with something like a shudder. 'I wonder Aunt Mary sends us
to such places; it is work for Bridget to do, and not for us,' she
continued. 'I don't think my mamma would approve of my going.'
'Oh, you are mistaken there, I know,' said Clara; 'for I have often
heard aunt tell of the poor people your mamma and she used to visit,
before Aunt Ada married--yes, and for a long time after she was married,
until she was poorly, and then of course she was obliged to give up; but
I'm quite sure she will be glad to hear of your doing the same. Now we
must make haste, for fear we should be too late for dinner.'