“This is Harold Evans,” Mrs. Ford said, tactfully drawing her husband’s
attention from Mabel. “Harold’s father is in the army, and has gone to
Cuba, so we are trying to make our little neighbor feel less lonely.”
“Mr. Evans? oh, yes,” said Mr. Ford, looking up; “I know him. That’s
right, Alice, make the boy feel at home. Come here, son, and sit by
me.” And the cloud blew over, much to Mabel’s relief. But the hurt
of her remorse and shame still lingered. She did like to appear well
before her friends, and to be shown up as a naughty, meddlesome little
girl, was very hard. Besides, she really was greatly distressed at
having spoiled the book, for she knew how her father loved his
library, and treasured his rare books and papers.
“Papa,” she faltered, “I’m dreadfully sorry. I thought it was just an
old book you didn’t care for; and--yes, I knew it wasn’t right to touch
it. Is it one of your very preciousest books?”
“Yes,” replied her father; “I am afraid it is. See, Mabel; not only is
this old print marred by those dreadful glaring colors, but you upset
the glass of water I left here, and it has soaked through the book and
carried the stain of the fresh paint with it. Then, where you were
painting the pages are stuck together; and, well, you can see that
destruction has followed your meddling. I must forbid you coming into
this room again until your mother or I have given you permission.”
“Oh!” Mabel stood the picture of distress. “I am so sorry, papa,” she
repeated. “I’ll never do so again. What can I do to myself?”
A little smile flickered around her father’s mouth. “I’m afraid nothing
you could do would restore my book. Another copy would be almost
impossible to find.”
“Where did you get this one?”
“I came across it at an auction. It was in a lot of books which were
lumped together, and went very cheap.”
“Was it an auction like that at Harold’s house this afternoon?”
“Yes.”
“How much is very cheap?”
“Oh, five dollars for the lot, I think I paid.”
Mabel was very thoughtful for a few moments. Several plans were at work
in her mind. Finally, seeing that her father wanted to return to his
work, she said: “I came to tell you how sorry I am, papa, and to say
good-night. I think maybe, if you don’t kiss me I’d feel worse.”
“Do you want to feel worse?”
“I don’t want to, but I suppose it would do me good, and make me
remember.”
“Well, my small philosopher, you completely disarm me. I confess I was
very angry at first, and still feel annoyed, but if I can help your
memory by withholding my usual good-night kiss, go to bed without it.
Good-night, daughter.”
Mabel lingered wistfully. It was very hard to make her up mind to go
without that good-night kiss, and her lips quivered as she turned away,
seeing that her father meant to follow out her suggestion. But on the
spot she formed a resolution to try to replace the book if ever she
could. Five dollars! that was a lot of money; more than she ever had at
once, but she would save up every penny. She wondered if there were any
books sold at Harold’s house that afternoon. She would ask him.
The next morning, while the family were at breakfast, Drake appeared
with rather a perturbed countenance. “I’d like your advice, Mr. Ford,”
he began, “So long as your lady was so good as to invite little Harold
to come over here, sir, I thought, perhaps you wouldn’t mind helping me
out in getting him fixed. You see, sir, when the Captain went away he
said the boy was to go to his aunt, and that I was to take him as soon
as I heard from her. Now she writes, or rather a nurse does, and says
she’s laid up to a hospital, sannytorum, they call it, and it’ll be
weeks before she’s out again, and will I look after the boy till she’s
well. She seems to think I’m some sort of kin-folks to him. But you
see, sir, me and my wife has a chance to go to the country to a good
place, and how’ll we take the boys, we being hired help like?”
“Humph!” Mr. Ford glanced up at his wife.
Mabel slipped down from her chair and went close to her mother.
“Mamma, let him come here,” she whispered. “He hasn’t any mamma nor any
sisters and brothers, nor anything. I’ll give up my room if Alice will
let me sleep with her.”
“Mabel proposes that we invite Harold here,” said Mrs. Ford. “She will
give up her room to him, Phillip.”
“Well, but how about you? It is something of a charge to take a boy
into the family where there are only girls.”
“I’ll take the charge willingly.”
Mr. Ford nodded with a satisfied air. “It’s settled then, Drake. We’ll
take care of the lad. Captain Evans and I are acquaintances, and I do
not think he would object to the arrangement.”
“He’d be that thankful, sir,” said the old man feelingly, but he looked
at Mabel, who at once understood.
“There’s the dear doggie, too. Do you mind him, mamma? He is such a
darling, and Harold loves him so.”
“Let’s have the whole combination,” laughed Mr. Ford, who loved
animals. “He’s a collie, isn’t he? I’ve seen him on the street and he
seemed a fine fellow.”
And so it was settled that Harold and Don should enter the family for
the time being, and Mabel proceeded, forthwith, to lay her plans
and to get her room ready for this newcomer. She took her dolls, her
specially girly books, and certain little knicknacks into her sister’s
room.
“What do boys like in their rooms?” she asked Alice.
“Oh, all sorts of funny things. Bows and arrows, and guns, and swords,
and oars and fishing tackle and such things.”
“Oh!” Mabel opened her eyes at the idea of such queer taste, and she
went out of the room wondering how she could supply these things.
Then she remembered that there was in the garret a hammock, which had
fallen into disuse; it was something like a net, she reflected, and
she dragged it forth. After many efforts, and finally resorting to a
chair placed on top of a table, she managed to climb up high enough to
drape the hammock in some sort of fashion over the door, viewing the
result of her labors with much satisfaction. But she thought the room
needed some further decoration, and she returned to the garret. After
fumbling around, she discovered a pair of old boxing gloves, and a pair
of foils, and at last found leaning against the wall, a dust-covered
picture representing a hunting scene.
“There!” she exclaimed, “that is exactly what I want. I wonder if papa
will let me have these.”
Down stairs she trudged again, and reported to her sister, who
good-naturedly went to the library, since Mabel was forbidden there,
and came back with her father’s consent to use the things for
decoration.
Mabel was repaid for all her work when Harold, upon being ushered
into the room, exclaimed: “Why this doesn’t look like a girl’s room.
See those foils and those boxing gloves. It looks like some of the
officer’s rooms. This is great!”
“And where is Don going to sleep?” asked Alice.
Harold’s countenance fell. “He always sleeps at the foot of my bed,” he
replied, fondling his dog, who looked up wistfully, not understanding
all these changes.
Mrs. Ford looked a little dubious.
“He’s very good and quiet,” said Harold, eagerly. “He never makes any
noise or gives a bit of trouble. He minds every word I say to him.”
“Well, we will let him try it for a night;” agreed Mrs. Ford, “and if
he behaves well there is no reason why he shouldn’t do as he has been
in the habit of doing.” And Harold’s heart was completely won.
Indeed, a few days after this, Don proved himself entirely worthy of
the confidence placed in him; for Mrs. Ford, hearing Alice cry out:
“Oh, mother, come quick!” ran to the nursery, where she found her
eldest daughter sitting on the floor, one arm around little Louie, and
the other around Don, while she alternately kissed Louie’s golden head
and Don’s black one, murmuring in an agitated voice: “Oh, dear little
sister! Oh, Don! oh, Don!”
“Why, Alice, what in the world is the matter?” exclaimed Mrs. Ford.
“Oh, mother, mother, that blessed dog has saved our darling baby’s
life,” said Alice, looking up with tears in her eyes. “Maria left Louie
just for a moment, while she went down to get her milk, and asked me
if I would watch her till she came back, and when I had come in she
had climbed up to the window.” There was a catch in Alice’s voice and
she hugged the little one closer, then she went on: “Louie had climbed
up to the window, and was hanging half way out with Don holding tight
to her dress with his teeth. But for him, she must fallen out and have
been killed. Oh, good, brave doggie!”
Mrs. Ford caught up her baby girl, and hers were not the only tears
that fell on Don’s head.
So, from that time forth, the good dog’s place was sure, and he was
allowed access to any room in the house, many a time finding his way
into the library, where Mr. Ford permitted him to remain, without so
much as a word of protest.
All this, of course, made Harold very happy and he soon felt so much
at home that he really dreaded the time when he should have to go to
his aunt. Meanwhile, he and Mabel became the best of friends, for,
as Mabel said, she liked boy’s play better than girl’s, and a bag of
marbles, a top, or a ball, took her fancy much more than a doll, and
the games the two children had in the garden were something beyond
imagination, so exciting were they.
“Oh, it’s such fun to have a boy to play with,” Mabel would say. And
the highest compliment she could receive from Harold, was: “You did
that as well as any boy, Mabel.”
To be sure, it was hard, on rainy days, that Harold should be allowed
the freedom of the library from which she was still barred; but Harold
was very good about this, and delicately refrained from spending much
time among the fascinating books, even though he liked nothing better
than to curl up in one of the big chairs, and pore over some old
chronicles of war or history.
Mabel was very grateful to him for his consideration, although, once
in a while, she did desert him for her school friends, Marie Lewis and
Ethel Morris, for there was quite enough girl about Mabel for her to
enjoy certain plays which Harold didn’t endorse because they were too
tame. But for all this new element which furnished her with a playmate
at home there was some trouble ahead for Mabel, all on account of that
unfortunate book.