don't know that among all the students I can remember I have seen one
who strikes me as being so intent and so really promising. Betty has
written about him, but I imagined that he interested her because he had
a boat and could take her out on the river. I supposed that he was one
of the idle fellows who evade their honest work, and, with a smattering
of pretty tastes which give them plenty of conceit, come to no sort of
use in the end. Betty knows enough of my hobbies to talk about his fish
a little, and I thought it was all girlish nonsense; the truth is that
she has shown real discernment of character,--young Foster is a fine
fellow."
"Can you do anything for him?" asked Miss Leicester. "I pity his poor
mother with all my heart. She is very ambitious for her son. I wish that
he could earn enough for their needs, and still be able to go on with
some serious study. Mrs. Foster and the daughter would make any
sacrifice, but they must have something to eat and to wear. I cannot see
how they can absolutely do without him even if his own expenses are
paid. They will not accept charity."
"I could learn by talking with him this evening that he is able already
to take some minor post in a museum. He would very soon make up what he
lacks in fitness, if we could put him where he could get hold of the
proper books. He must be put under the right influences, for though he
seems to have energy, many a boy with an unusual gift gets stranded in a
small town like this, and becomes less useful in the end than if he were
like everybody else."
"I think it has been a great thing for him to be developed on the
every-day side, and to have care and even trouble," said Miss Leicester.
"Now I wish to see the exceptional side of him have a chance. I stand
ready to help at any point, you must remember."
"I can give him some work at once, with the understanding that he is to
study at Cambridge this winter. I have plans for next summer in which he
could be of great service. We will not say too much, but keep our own
counsel until we watch him a little longer."
Aunt Barbara nodded emphatically, but for her part she felt no doubt of
Harry Foster's power of keeping at his work; then she proposed another
subject of personal concern, and they talked a long time in the pleasant
old library, among the familiar books and pictures, until the fire had
given its last flicker and settled quietly down into a few red coals
among the gray ashes.
* * * * *
Every one was glad to know that Harry's collection of fishes and insects
and his scientific tastes had won great approval from a man of Mr.
Leicester's fame, and that the boy was to be forwarded in his studies as
fast as possible.
Who shall tell the wonder of the town over a phonograph which Mr.
Leicester brought with him? In fact, the last of the summer seemed
altogether the pleasantest, and papa and Betty had a rare holiday
together. Aunt Mary and Aunt Barbara, Serena and Letty, and Seth and
Jonathan were all in a whirl from morning until night. Serena thought
that the phonograph was an invention of the devil, and after hearing the
uncanny little machine repeat that very uncomplimentary remark which
she had just made about it, she was surer than before. Serena did not
relish being called an invention of the evil one, herself, but it does
not do to call names at a phonograph.
* * * * *
"It was lonely when I first came," said Betty, the evening before she
was to go away, as she walked to and fro between the box-borders with
her father, "but I like everybody better and better,--even poor Aunt
Mary," she added in a whisper. "It is lovely to live in Tideshead.
Sometimes one gets cross, though, and it is so provoking about the
left-out ones, and the won't-play ones, and the ones that want
everything done some other way, and then let you do it after all. But I
thought at first it was going to be so stupid, and that nobody would
like any of the things I did; and here is Mary Picknell, who can paint
beautifully, and Harry Foster knows so many of the things you do, and
George Max is going to be a sea-captain, and so is Jim Beck, and poor
dear Becky can sing like a bird when she feels good-natured. Why, papa,
dear, I do believe that there is one person in Tideshead of every kind
in the world. And Aunt Barbara is a duchess!"
"I never saw so grand a duchess as your Aunt Barbara in her very best
gown," said Betty's papa, "but I haven't seen all the duchesses there
are in existence."
"Oh, papa, do let us come and live here together," pleaded the girl,
with shining eyes. "Must you go back to England for very long? After I
see Mrs. Duncan and the rest of the people in London, I am so afraid I
shall be homesick. You can keep on having the cubby-house for a very
private study, and I know you could write beautifully on the rainy days,
when the elm branches make such a nice noise on the roof. Oh, papa, do
let us come some time!"
"Some time," repeated Mr. Leicester, with great assurance. "How would
next summer do, for instance? I have been talking with Aunt Barbara
about it, and we have a grand plan for the writing of a new book, and
having some friends of mine come here too, and for the doing of great
works. I shall need a stenographer, and we are"--
"Those other people could live at the Fosters' and Becks'," Betty
interrupted, delightedly entering into the plans. She was used to the
busy little colonies of students who gathered round her father. "Here
comes Mr. Marsh, the teacher of the academy, to see you," and she danced
away on the tips of her toes.
"Serena and Letty! I am coming back to stay all next summer, and papa
too," she said, when she reached the middle of the kitchen.
"Thank the goodness!" said Serena. "Only don't let your pa bring his
talking-machine to save up everybody's foolish speeches. Your aunt said
this morning that what I ought to ha' said into it was, 'Miss Leicester,
we're all out o' sugar.' But the sugar's goin' to last longer when
you're gone. I expect we shall miss you," said the good woman, with
great feeling.
Now, everything was to be done next summer: all the things that Betty
had forgotten and all that she had planned and could not carry out. It
was very sad to go away, when the time came. Poor Aunt Mary fairly
cried, and said that she was going to try hard to be better in health,
so that she could do more for Betty when she came next year, and she
should miss their reading together, sadly; and Aunt Barbara held Betty
very close for a minute, and said, "God bless you, my darling," though
she had never called her "my darling" before.
And Captain Beck came over to say good-by, and wished that they could
have gone down by the packet boat, as Betty came, and gave our friend a
little brass pocket-compass, which he had carried to sea many years. The
minister came to call in the evening, with his girls; and the dear old
doctor came in next morning, though he was always in a hurry, and kissed
Betty most kindly, and held her hand in both his, while he said that he
had lost a good deal of practice, lately, because she kept the young
folks stirring, and he did not know about letting her come back another
summer.
But when poor Mrs. Foster came, with Nelly, and thanked Betty for
bringing a ray of sunshine into her sad home, it was almost too much to
bear; and good-by must be said to Becky, and that was harder than
anything, until they tried to talk about what they would do next
summer, and how often they must write to each other in the winter months
between.
"Why, sometimes I have been afraid that you didn't like me," said Betty,
as her friend's tears again began to fall.
"It was only because I didn't like myself," said dear Becky forlornly.
It was a most sad and affectionate leave-taking, but there were many
things that Becky would like to think over when her new old friend had
fairly gone.
"I never felt as if I really belonged to any place, until now. You must
always say that I am Betty Leicester of Tideshead," said Betty to her
father, after she had looked back in silence from the car window for a
long time. Aunt Barbara had come to the station with them, and was
taking the long drive home alone, with only Jonathan and the slow
horses. Betty's thoughts followed her all along the familiar road. Last
night she had put the little red silk shawl back into her trunk with a
sorry sigh. Everybody had been so good to her, while she had done so
little for any one!
But Aunt Barbara was really dreading to go back to the old house, she
knew that she should miss Betty so much.
Papa was reading already; he always read in the cars himself, but he
never liked to have Betty do so. He looked up now, and something in his
daughter's face made him put down his book. She was no longer only a
playmate; her face was very grave and sweet. "I must try not to scurry
about the world as I have done," he thought, as he glanced at Betty
again and again. "We ought to have a home, both of us; her mother would
have known. A girl should grow up in a home, and get a girl's best life
out of the cares and pleasures of it."
"I am afraid you won't wish to come down to the hospitalities of
lodgings this winter," said Mr. Leicester. "Perhaps we had better look
for a comfortable house of our own near the Duncans."
"Oh, we're sure to have the best of good times!" said Betty cheerfully,
as if there were danger of his being low-spirited. "We must wait about
all that, papa, dear, until we are in London."
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Page 10, "fee" changed to "feel" (You don't feel)
Page 10, "grand-aunts" changed to "grandaunts" to match rest of usage
(my grandaunts this summer)
Page 36, "upstairs" changed to "up-stairs" to match rest of usage (Now
run up-stairs)
Page 124, "something'" changed to "somethin'" (somethin' else that)
Page 124, single quotation mark changed to double (from our house,")
Page 128, period added (Betty herself would.)
Page 134, opening quotation mark added ("But your Aunt Mary)
Page 154, period changed to a comma (a darlin' gal,")
Page 159, "grand-niece" changed to "grandniece" to match rest of usage
(my grandniece, sometimes)
Page 163, period added (answered Betty humbly.)
Page 287, single quotation mark changed to double (lodgings this
winter,")