her some trouble. I am often touched to see her silent struggles with
herself when something tries it, how she forces back each angry word
and look, and faithfully asks for the help which she knows will never
fail her. But with that tender conscience, and her simple trust in Him
who has redeemed her, I believe all the strength she needs will be
granted. God only knows how thankful I am that he has thus early led my
precious child to see the sin and evil of a passionate and unchecked
temper, and so spared her and hers the misery which I have seen it
cause to others."
Uncle Ruthven came in the next morning, and, as usual, "making
intimate," ran up to mamma's room. She was not there; but Maggie and
Bessie were, busy over "The Complete Family." But Maggie did not look
at all as if she belonged to the Happys just then. She had composed,
what she thought, a very interesting chapter about Aunt Patty, and
commenced it in this way: "There came to the Happys a very great
aflekshun." But when she had written this last word, she had her doubts
about the spelling, and carried the book to mamma to see if it were
right. Mamma inquired what the affliction was, and finding, as she
supposed, that it was Aunt Patty, she told Maggie she did not wish her
to write about her. Maggie was very much disappointed, and even pouted
a little, and she had not quite recovered when her uncle came in. In
his hand he carried a little basket of flowers, which the children
supposed was for mamma, and which he stood upon the table. Bessie loved
flowers dearly, and in a moment she was hanging over them, and enjoying
their sweetness.
Uncle Ruthven asked what they were about, and to Bessie's surprise,
Maggie took him at once into the secret, telling him all about "The
Complete Family" and her present trouble. Uncle Ruthven quite agreed
with mamma that it was not wisest and best to write anything unkind
of Aunt Patty, and told Maggie of some very pleasant things she might
relate, so that presently she was smiling and good-natured again.
Then Mr. Stanton took Bessie up in his arms. "Bessie," he said, "did I
vex you a little last night?"
Bessie colored all over, but looking her uncle steadily in the eyes,
answered, "Yes, sir; and I am sorry I felt so naughty."
"Nay," said Uncle Ruthven, smiling, "if I teased you, although I did
not intend it, I am the one to beg pardon."
"But I was pretty mad, uncle, and I felt as if I wanted to be naughty.
I think I ought to be sorry."
"As you please then, darling; we will forgive one another. And now
would you like this little peace-offering from Uncle Ruthven?" and he
took up the basket of flowers.
"Is that for me?" asked Bessie, her eyes sparkling.
"Yes. I thought perhaps I had hurt your feelings last night, and so I
brought it to you that you might see _I_ was sorry."
"But I could believe you without that."
Bessie felt reproached that she had told Maggie she had "objections to
Uncle Ruthven," and now she felt as if they had all flown away.
"Perhaps you could," said Uncle Ruthven, smiling as he kissed her; "but
the flowers are your own to do with as you please. And now you must
remember that I am not much accustomed to little girls, and do not
always know what they like and what they do not like; so you must take
pity on the poor traveller, if he makes a mistake now and then, and
believe he always wishes to please you and make you love him as far as
he knows how."
[Illustration: Title decoration, chap. 7]
VII.
_AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR._
Uncle Ruthven had brought home with him two servants, the elder of
whom was a Swede, and did not interest the children much, being, as
Maggie said, such a "very broken Englishman" that they could scarcely
understand him. But the other was a little Persian boy about twelve
years old, whom a sad, or rather a happy accident, had thrown into
Mr. Stanton's hands. Riding one day through the streets of a Persian
town, as he turned a corner, this boy ran beneath his horse's feet, was
thrown down and badly hurt. Mr. Stanton took him up and had him kindly
cared for, and finding that the boy was an orphan, with no one to love
him, he went often to see him, and soon became much interested in
the grateful, affectionate little fellow; while Hafed learned to love
dearly the only face which looked kindly upon him. When the time came
for Mr. Stanton to go away, Hafed's grief was terrible to see, and he
clung so to this new friend, that the gentleman could not find it in
his heart to leave him. It was not difficult to persuade those who had
the care of him to give him up; they were only too glad to be rid of
the charge. So, at some trouble to himself, Mr. Stanton had brought him
away. But if he needed payment, he found it in Hafed's happy face and
tireless devotion to himself. He was less of a servant than a pet; but
his master did not mean him to grow up in idleness and ignorance, and
as soon as he knew a little English, he was to go to school to learn to
read and write; but at present he was allowed time to become accustomed
to his new home.
The children thought him a great curiosity, partly because of his
foreign dress, and that he had come from such a far-off country;
partly because he could speak only half a dozen English words.
Hafed took a great fancy to the little girls, and was never happier
than when his master took him to Mr. Bradford's house, and left him to
play with them for a while. Maggie and Bessie liked him also, and they
immediately set about teaching him English. As yet, he knew only four
or five words, one of which was "Missy," by which name he called every
one who wore skirts, not excepting Franky, who considered it a great
insult. Maggie was very eager to have him learn new words, and was
constantly showing him something and repeating the name over and over
till he could say it. But though he took great pains, and was an apt
scholar, he did not learn fast enough to satisfy Maggie.
"Hafed," she said to him one day, holding up her doll, "say 'doll.'"
"_Dole_," repeated Hafed, in his soft, musical tones.
"Doll," said Maggie, not at all satisfied with his pronunciation, and
speaking in a louder voice, as if Hafed could understand the better for
that.
"Dole," said Hafed again, with a contented smile.
"D-o-o-ll," shrieked Maggie, in the ear of her patient pupil, with no
better success on his part.
Miss Rush was sitting by, and she called Maggie to her. "Maggie, dear,"
she said, "you must not be impatient with Hafed. I am sure he tries his
best; but you must remember it is hard work for that little foreign
tongue of his to twist itself to our English words. He will learn to
pronounce them in time."
"But, Aunt Bessie," said Maggie, "mamma said it was always best to
learn to do a thing well at first, and then one will not have to break
one's self of bad habits."
"And so it is, dear; but then we cannot always do that at once. When
mamma teaches you French, you cannot always pronounce the words as she
does; can you?"
"No; ma'am; but those are hard French words, and we are trying to teach
Hafed English, and that is so easy."
"Easy to you, dear, who are accustomed to it, but not to him. It is
even harder for him to frame the English words than it is for you to
repeat the French; and you should be gentle and patient with him, as
mamma is with you."
The little Persian felt the cold very much, and delighted to hang about
the fires and registers. He had a way of going down on his knees before
the fire, and holding up both hands with the palms towards the blaze.
The first time nurse saw him do this, she was quite shocked.
"The poor little heathen," she said. "Well, I've often heard of them
fire-worshippers, but I never expected to see one, at least, in this
house. I shall just make so bold as to tell Mr. Ruthven he ought to
teach him better."
But Hafed was no fire-worshipper, for he had been taught better, and
thanks to his kind master, did not bow down to that or any other false
god. It was only his delight in the roaring blaze which had brought him
down in front of it, not, as nurse thought, the wish to pray to it.
"Let's teach him about Jesus," said Bessie to her sister. "First, we'll
teach him to say it, and then he'll want to know who he is."
So kneeling down beside the little stranger, she took his hand in hers,
and pointing upwards said, "Jesus."
The boy's face lighted up immediately, and to Bessie's great delight,
he repeated Jesus in a tone so clear and distinct as to show it was no
new word to him. He had a pretty way when he wished to say he loved a
person, of touching his fingers to his lips, laying them on his own
heart, and then on that of the one for whom he wished to express his
affection. Now, at the sound of the name, which he, as well as Bessie,
had learned to love, he tried, by a change in the pretty sign, to
express his meaning. Touching first Bessie's lips and then her heart
with the tips of his fingers, he softly blew upon them, as if he
wished to waft to heaven the love he could not utter in words, saying,
"Missy--Jesus?"
Bessie understood him. She knew he wished to ask if she loved Jesus,
and with a sunny face, she answered him with a nod, asking, in her
turn, "Do you, Hafed,--do you love Jesus?"
The boy went through the same sign with his own heart and lips, saying,
"Hafed--Jesus," and Bessie turned joyfully to her sister.
"He knows him, Maggie. We won't have to teach him; he knows our Jesus,
and he loves him too. Oh, I'm so glad!"
"Now the Good Shepherd, that has called ye to be his lambs, bless you
both," said old nurse, with the tears starting to her eyes. "That's as
cheering a sight as I want to see; and there was me a misjudging of
my boy. I might have known him better than to think he'd let one as
belonged to him go on in darkness and heathendom."
Nurse always called Mr. Stanton her "boy" when she was particularly
pleased with him.
From this time Hafed was almost as great a favorite with nurse as he
was with the children, and seeing how gentle and thoughtful he was, she
would even sometimes leave them for a few moments in his care.
One morning mamma and Aunt Bessie were out, and Jane, who was sick, had
gone to bed. Hafed was in the nursery playing with the children, when
the chamber-maid came in to ask nurse to go to Jane. Nurse hesitated
at first about leaving her charge, but they all said they would be
good, and Hafed should take care of them. Nurse knew that this was a
safe promise from Maggie and Bessie, but she feared that, with every
intention of being good, mischievous Franky would have himself or the
others in trouble if she stayed away five minutes.
"See here," she said, "I'll put ye all into the crib, and there ye may
play omnibus till I come back. That will keep ye out of harm's way,
Franky, my man, for if there's a chance for you to get into mischief,
ye'll find it."
This was a great treat, for playing in the cribs and beds was not
allowed without special permission, and Franky, being provided with a
pair of reins, and a chair turned upside down for a horse, took his
post as driver, in great glee; while the three little girls were packed
in as passengers, Maggie holding the baby. Hafed was rather too large
for the crib, so he remained outside, though he, too, enjoyed the fun,
even if he did not quite understand all it meant. Then, having with
many pointings and shakings of her head made Hafed understand that he
was not to go near the fire or windows, or to let the children fall out
of the crib, mammy departed.
They were all playing and singing as happy as birds, when the
nursery-door opened, and a stranger stood before them. In a moment
every voice was mute, and all five children looked at her in utter
astonishment. She was an old lady, with hair as white as snow, tall
and handsome; but there was something about her which made every one
of the little ones feel rather shy. They gazed at her in silence while
she looked from one to another of them, and then about the room, as if
those grave, stern eyes were taking notice of the smallest thing there.
"Well!" exclaimed the old lady, after a moment's pause, "this is a
pretty thing!"
By this time Bessie's politeness had gained the better of her
astonishment, and scrambling to her feet, she stood upright in the
crib. As the stranger's eyes were fixed upon Hafed as she spoke, the
little girl supposed the "pretty thing" meant the dress of the young
Persian, which the children thought very elegant; and she answered,
"Yes, ma'am, but he is not to wear it much longer, 'cause the boys
yun after him in the street, so Uncle Yuthven is having some English
clothes made for him."
"Where is your mother?" asked the old lady, without other notice of
Bessie's speech.
"Gone out with Aunt Bessie, ma'am."
"And is there nobody left to take care of you?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am," answered Bessie. "Maggie and I are taking care of the
children, and Hafed is taking care of us."
"Humph!" said the old lady, as if she did not think this at all a
proper arrangement. "I shall give Margaret a piece of my mind about
this."
Bessie now opened her eyes very wide. "Papa don't allow it," she said,
gravely.
"Don't allow what?" asked the stranger, rather sharply.
"Don't allow mamma to be scolded."
"And who said I was going to scold her?"
"You said you were going to give her a piece of your mind, and pieces
of mind mean scoldings, and we never have mamma scolded, 'cause she
never deserves it."
"Oh!" said the old lady, with a half-smile, "then she is better than
most people."
"Yes, ma'am," answered Bessie, innocently, "she is better than anybody,
and so is papa."
"Just as well _you_ should think so," said the lady, now smiling
outright. "And you are Maggie--no--Bessie, I suppose."
"Yes, ma'am. I am Bessie, and this is Maggie, and this is baby, and
this is Franky, and this is Hafed," said the child, pointing in turn to
each of her playmates.
"And is there no one but this little mountebank to look after you?"
asked the old lady. "Where is your nurse?"
"She is coming back in a few minutes," answered Bessie. "And Hafed is
not a--a--that thing you called him, ma'am. He is only a little Persian
whom Uncle Yuthven brought from far away over the sea, and he's a very
good boy. He does not know a great many of our words, but he tries to
learn them, and he knows about our Jesus, and tries to be a good little
boy."
Dear Bessie wished to say all she could in praise of Hafed, whom she
thought the old lady looked at with displeasure. Perhaps Hafed thought
so, also, for he seemed very much as if he would like to hide away from
her gaze. Meanwhile Maggie sat perfectly silent. When the old lady had
first spoken, she started violently, and, clasping her arms tightly
about the baby, looked more and more frightened each instant; while
baby, who was not usually shy, nestled her little head timidly against
her sister's shoulder, and stared at the stranger with eyes of grave
infant wonder.
"And so you are Maggie," said the lady, coming closer to the crib.
Poor Maggie gave a kind of gasp by way of answer.
"Do you not know me, Maggie?" asked the old lady, in a voice which she
intended to be coaxing.
To Bessie's dismay, Maggie burst into one of those sudden and violent
fits of crying, to which she would sometimes give way when much
frightened or distressed.
"Why, why!" said the stranger, as the baby, startled by Maggie's sobs,
and the way in which she clutched her, raised her voice also in a loud
cry. "Why, why! what is all this about? Do you not know your Aunt
Patty?"
Aunt Patty! Was it possible? At this astounding and alarming news,
Bessie plumped down again in the bed beside Maggie, amazed at herself
for having dared to speak so boldly to that terrible person. And yet
she had not seemed so terrible, nor had she felt much afraid of her
till she found out who she was.
But now Mrs. Lawrence was losing patience. Certainly she had not had
a very pleasant reception. Coming cold and tired from a long journey,
she had found her host and hostess out, and no one but the servants to
receive her. This was her own fault, of course, since she had not told
Mr. and Mrs. Bradford to expect her; but that did not make it the less
annoying to her. It is not always the easier to bear a thing because
we ourselves are to blame for it.
However, she had made up her mind not to be vexed about it, and at once
went to the nursery to make acquaintance with the children. But the
greeting she received was not of a kind to please any one, least of all
a person of Aunt Patty's temper. And there was worse still to come.
"What is the meaning of all this?" asked Mrs. Lawrence, in an angry
tone. "Here, Maggie, give me that child, and stop crying at once."
As she spoke, she tried to take the baby, but poor Maggie, now in utter
despair, shrieked aloud for nurse, and held her little sister closer
than before. Aunt Patty was determined, however, and much stronger than
Maggie, and in another minute the baby was screaming in her arms.
"Oh, Maggie, why don't somebody come?" cried Bessie. "Oh, do say those
words to her?"
Maggie had quite forgotten how she had intended to alarm Aunt Patty if
she interfered with them; but when Bessie spoke, it came to her mind,
and the sight of her baby sister in the old lady's arms was too much
for her. Springing upon her feet, she raised her arm after the manner
of the woman in the picture, and gasped out, "Beware, woman!"
For a moment Aunt Patty took no notice of her, being occupied with
trying to soothe the baby.
"Beware, woman!" cried Maggie, in a louder tone, and stamping her foot.
Mrs. Lawrence turned and looked at her.
"Beware, woman!" shrieked Maggie, and Bessie, thinking it time for her
to come to her sister's aid, joined in the cry, "Beware, woman!" while
Franky, always ready to take part in any disturbance, struck at Aunt
Patty with his whip, and shouted, "'Ware, woman!" and Hafed, knowing
nothing but that this old lady had alarmed and distressed his young
charge, and that it was his duty to protect them, raised his voice in
a whoop of defiance, and snatching up the hearth-brush, brandished it
in a threatening manner as he danced wildly about her. Nor was this
all, for Flossy, who had also been taken into the crib as a passenger,
commenced a furious barking, adding greatly to the uproar.
[Illustration: Bessie's Friends. p. 158.]
It would be difficult to say which was the greatest, Aunt Patty's
astonishment or her anger; and there is no knowing what she would have
done or said, for at this moment the door opened, and Uncle Ruthven
appeared.
For a moment he stood perfectly motionless with surprise. It was
indeed a curious scene upon which he looked. In the centre of the room
stood an old lady who was a stranger to him, holding in her arms the
screaming baby; while around her danced his own little servant-boy,
looking as if he might be one of the wild dervishes of his own country;
and in the crib stood his young nieces and Franky, all shouting,
"Beware, woman!" over and over again.
But Aunt Patty had not the least idea of "running away, never to be
seen again," and if her conscience were "guilty," it certainly did not
seem to be at all alarmed by anything Maggie or Bessie could do.
Nevertheless, Mr. Stanton's appearance was a great relief to her. Baby
ceased her loud cries, and stretched out her dimpled arms to her uncle,
with a beseeching whimper; Hafed paused in his antics, and stood like a
statue at sight of his master; and the three other children all turned
to him with exclamations of "Oh, Uncle Ruthven; we're so glad!" and
"Please don't leave us," from Maggie and Bessie; and "Make dat Patty be
off wiz herself," from Franky.
Mr. Stanton recovered himself in a moment, and bowing politely to Mrs.
Lawrence, said, with a smile sparkling in his eye, "I fear you are in
some trouble, madam; can I help you?"
"Help me?" repeated the old lady; "I fear you will want help yourself.
Why, it must need half a dozen keepers to hold these little Bedlamites
in any kind of order."
"They are usually orderly enough," answered Mr. Stanton as he took baby
from Aunt Patty, who was only too glad to give her up; "but I do not
understand this. What is the matter, Maggie, and where is nurse?"
But Maggie only answered by a new burst of sobs, and Bessie spoke for
her. "She's Aunt Patty, Uncle Yuthven; she says she is."
"Well," said Uncle Ruthven, more puzzled than ever, for he knew little
of Mrs. Lawrence, save that she was Mr. Bradford's aunt, "and do you
welcome her with such an uproar as this? Tell me where nurse is,
Bessie."
As he spoke, nurse herself came in, answering his question with, "Here
I am, sir, and--"
Nurse, in her turn, was so astonished by the unexpected sight of Aunt
Patty that she stood quite still, gazing at her old enemy. But, as she
afterwards said, she presently "recollected her manners," and dropping
a stiff courtesy to Mrs. Lawrence, she took the baby from Mr. Stanton,
and in a few words explained the cause of her ten minutes' absence. The
tearful faces of her nurslings, and that of Aunt Patty, flushed and
angry, gave nurse a pretty good guess how things had been going while
she had been away, but she saw fit to ask no questions.
"My lady is out, ma'am," she said, with a grim sort of politeness to
Mrs. Lawrence, "and I think she was not looking for you just now, or
she would have been at home."
Then Mr. Stanton introduced himself, and asking Mrs. Lawrence if she
would let him play the part of host till his sister came home, he
offered the old lady his arm, and led her away.
Poor Aunt Patty! she scarcely knew what to do. The old angry, jealous
temper and the new spirit which had lately come to dwell in her heart
were doing hard battle, each striving for the victory. She thought, and
not without reason, that her nephew's little children must have been
taught to fear and dislike her, when they could receive her in such a
manner; and the evil spirit said, "Go, do not remain in a house where
you have been treated so. Leave it, and never come back to it. You have
been insulted! do not bear it! Tell these people what you think of
their unkindness, and never see them again." But the better angel, the
spirit of the meek and lowly Master, of whom she was striving to learn,
said, "No, stay, and try to overcome evil with good. This is all your
own fault, the consequence of your own ungoverned and violent temper.
Your very name has become a name of fear to these innocent children;
but you must bear it, and let them find they have no longer cause to
dread you. And do not be too proud to let their parents see that you
are sorry for the past, and wish it to be forgotten. If this is hard,
and not what you would have expected, remember how much they have borne
from you in former days; how patient and gentle and forbearing they
were."
Then, as her anger cooled down, she began to think how very unlikely
it was that Mr. or Mrs. Bradford had said or done anything which could
cause their children to act in the way Maggie and Bessie had done
that morning. This was probably the work of others who remembered how
perverse and trying she had been during her last visit. And Aunt Patty
was forced to acknowledge to herself that it was no more than she
deserved, or might have looked for.
And so, trying to reason herself into better humor, as she thought
the matter over, she began to see its droll side (for Aunt Patty had
a quick sense of fun) and to find some amusement mingling with her
vexation at the singular conduct of the children.
Meanwhile, Mr. Stanton, who saw that the poor lady had been greatly
annoyed, and who wondered much at all the commotion he had seen in the
nursery, though, like nurse, he thought it wisest to ask no questions,
was doing his best to make her forget it; and so well did he succeed,
that presently Mrs. Lawrence found herself, she scarcely knew how,
laughing heartily with him as she related the story of Maggie's strange
attack upon her. Mr. Stanton understood it no better than she did,
perhaps not so well; but he was very much amused; and as he thought
these young nieces and nephews of his were very wonderful little
beings, he told Aunt Patty many of their droll sayings and doings,
making himself so agreeable and entertaining, that by the time his
sister came in, the old lady had almost forgotten that she had cause
to be offended, and was not only quite ready to meet Mrs. Bradford in
a pleasant manner, but actually went so far as to apologize for taking
them all by surprise.
This was a great deal to come from Aunt Patty. She would not have
spoken so four years ago; but Mrs. Bradford was not more surprised by
this than she was at the difference in look and manner which now showed
itself in the old lady. Surely, some great change must have come to
her; and her friends, seeing how much more patient and gentle she was
than in former days, could not but think it was the one blessed change
which must come to the hearts of those who seek for love and peace by
the true way.
[Illustration: decoration, end of chap. 7]