LISA VISITS MISS SCHUYLER
"So you are Phil's good friend Lisa?" said Miss Rachel Schuyler, sitting
in her cool white wrapper in the dusk of this warm May evening. "I want
to hear more about Phil. The dear child has quite won my heart, he looks
so like a friend of mine whom I have not seen for many years. How are
you related to him, and who were his parents?"
"I am not related to him at all, Miss Schuyler."
"No?" in some surprise. "Why, then, have you the care and charge of
him?"
"I was brought up in his mother's family as seamstress, and went to live
with her when she married Mr. Randolph, and--"
"Who did you say? What Mr. Randolph?"
"Mr. Peyton Randolph."
Miss Rachel seemed much overcome, but she controlled herself, and
hurriedly said, "Go on."
"There was no intercourse between the families after the marriage, for
Mrs. Randolph was poor, and they all had been opposed to her. I suppose
you do not care to hear all the details--how they went abroad, and Mr.
Randolph died there; and while they were absent their house was burned;
and there was no one to take care of Phil but me, for Phil had been too
sick to go with his father and mother; and Mrs. Randolph did not live
long after her return. I nursed them both--Phil and his mother; and when
she was gone I came on to the city, thinking I could do better here, but
I have found it hard, very hard, with no friends. Still, I have pretty
steady work now as shopwoman, though I cannot do all that I would like
to do for Phil."
Miss Schuyler was crying.
"Lisa, you good woman, how glad I am I have found you! Phil's father was
the dearest friend I ever had."
"Phil's mother gave the child to me, Miss Schuyler."
"Don't be alarmed. I do not wish to separate you. How can I ever thank
you enough for telling me all this? And what a noble, generous creature
you are, to be toiling and suffering for a child no way related to you,
and who must have friends fully able to care for him if they would!"
"I love him as if he were my own. Sometimes I have thought I ought to
try and see if any of his relatives would help us, but I cannot bear to,
and so we have just worried along as we could. But Phil needs a doctor
and medicine, and more than I can give him."
"He shall have all he needs, and you too," said Miss Schuyler, warmly.
At this Lisa broke down, the kind words were so welcome. And the two
women cried together; but not long, for Miss Schuyler rose and got Lisa
some refreshing drink, and made her take off her bonnet and quiet
herself, and then said:
"Now we must plan a change for Phil, and see how soon it can be
accomplished. And you must leave that tiresome shop, and I will give you
plenty of work to do. See, here are some things I bought to-day that I
shall have to wear this summer."
She opened the packages--soft sheer lawn and delicate cambric that gave
Lisa a thrill of pleasure just to touch once more, for she loved her
work. "I shall be so glad to sew again, and I wish I had some of my
work to show you."
"Oh, I know you will do it nicely. I am going out of town in a few days,
and I want you and Phil to go with me. Do you think you can?"
"I am a little afraid," said Lisa, hesitating, "that we are not fit to;
and yet--"
"I will see to all that. Now I suppose you cannot leave Phil alone much
longer--besides, there is a shower coming. To-morrow I will bring a
doctor to visit the dear boy, and we will see what can be done"; and she
put a roll of money in Lisa's hand, assuring her that she should be as
independent as she pleased after a while, and repay her, but that now
she needed help, and should have it, and that henceforth Phil was to be
theirs in partnership.
Lisa hurried away with a light heart. She had indeed toiled and
suffered, striven early and late, for the child of her affections, and
this timely assistance was a source of great joy.
She was too happy to heed the dashing shower which was now falling.
Herself she had never thought of, and her dear Phil now was to be
helped, to be cheered, perhaps to be made strong and well, and able to
do all that his poor weak hands had tried to do so ineffectually.
She opened the door softly when she reached her room. A little shiver of
sweet, sad sounds came from the wind harp. She lighted a candle, and
looked into the pale face of the sleeping child as he lay in an attitude
of weariness and exhaustion, with hands falling apart, and a feverish
flush on his thin cheeks.
"My poor Phil! I hope help has not come too late," she whispered, as she
began her preparations for his more comfortable repose.
The next day Miss Schuyler came, as she had promised, and brought a
physician--a good, kind surgeon--who examined Phil, and pulled this
joint and that joint, and touched him here and there, and found out
where the pain was, and what caused it, and said nice, funny things to
make him laugh, and told him he hoped to make him a strong boy yet. And
then they whispered a little about him, and Joe was sent for, and a
carriage came, and Phil was wrapped in a blanket and laid on pillows,
and taken out for a drive alone with Miss Schuyler, who chatted with
him, and got him more flowers; and when they came back there was a nice
dinner on a tray, and ice-cream for his dessert, and Joe was to stay
with him until Lisa came home; and before Lisa came there was a nice new
trunk brought in, and several large parcels. And Phil thought he had
never seen such a day of happiness. After his dinner and a nap, and
while Joe Sat and played on his violin, Phil sketched and made a lovely
little picture of flowers and fairies, in his own simple fashion, to
give to Miss Schuyler. And then Lisa came home, and the parcels were
opened; and there were nice new dresses for Lisa, and a pretty, thin
shawl, and a new bonnet; and for Phil there was a comfortable flannel
gown, and soft slippers, and fine handkerchiefs and stockings; and Phil
found a little parcel too for Joe with a bright bandanna in it, and the
old man was very happy.
"It seems like Christmas," said Joe.
Phil thought he had never seen quite such a Christmas, and said, "It
seems more like Fairy-land, and I only hope it will not all fade away
and come to an end, like a bubble bursting."
"To me," said Lisa, "it is God's own goodness that has done it all, for
it was He who gave Miss Schuyler her warm, kind heart."
"And, Joe," said Phil, "we are to go to the country, and you are to go
with us; is not that nice?"
"Very nice, Phil. I'm glad Miss Rachel's found out your father was her
friend."
Then Joe took up his violin again, and played "Home, Sweet Home," and
"Auld Lang Syne"; and Phil fancied the violin was a bird, and sang of
its own free-will, and thinking this reminded him how soon he would hear
the dear wild birds in the woods, and he wondered if the fairies would
come to him there.
Then Joe went home, and Lisa had errands to do, and again she put the
wind harp in the window, and left Phil alone, keeping very still in
expectation of another visit from his fairy friend.