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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-27 15:21:14 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-27 15:21:14 -0800 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/75482-0.txt b/75482-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d0418aa --- /dev/null +++ b/75482-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7118 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75482 *** + + + + + + MAISIE'S MERRY CHRISTMAS + + By NINA RHOADES + + Author of "Brick House Books," + "Marion's Vacation," and "Dorothy Brown" + + _ILLUSTRATED BY ELIZABETH WITHINGTON_ + + BOSTON + LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. + + Published, March, 1911 + + COPYRIGHT, 1911 + BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. + + _All Rights Reserved_ + + MAISIE'S MERRY CHRISTMAS + + NORWOOD PRESS + BERWICK & SMITH CO. + NORWOOD, MASS. + U. S. A. + + + + + CONTENTS + + + MAISIE'S MERRY CHRISTMAS + + JILL AND LILL + + HOW REGGIE SAW THE SPHINX + + + + + ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"Oh, may I really take it?" + +She laid a kind little hand on one of the blind child's shoulders. + +"And may I ask what your mother does in the galleries?" + +"Has there really been an earthquake, and where was it?" + +Reggie paused before the open window. + +"She's pretty, isn't she?" whispered Phyllis. + + + + + MAISIE'S MERRY CHRISTMAS + + + + + CHAPTER I + + +"I wish there wasn't going to be any Christmas at all this year." + +Maisie made this startling assertion in a tone of conviction, but there +was a quiver in her voice, nevertheless, and a suspicious moisture +in her eyes. The remark caused quite a shock to the members of her +family, who were all assembled in their private sitting-room at the +Hotel de Nice. Mr. Barton looked up from his American newspaper, that +had arrived by the last mail, Mrs. Barton paused in the letter she +was writing home to Grandma, and Auntie Belle--who was playing on the +piano--whirled around on her stool, and regarded her little niece with +an expression of horrified amazement. + +"Why, Maisie," she exclaimed indignantly; "how can you say such a +dreadful thing? Think of the wonderful winter we are having! You must +really be a very unappreciative child." + +"I'm not an unappreciative child," declared Maisie, who did not like +the long word, although she was not quite sure she knew what it meant, +"and I'm not having a wonderful winter at all. It's been horrid ever +since we went away from Morristown. First there was that dreadful +ocean. You didn't mind that, because you weren't seasick, and didn't +have to lie in bed and hate things to eat. Then there was London. I +hated London, it was so foggy and rainy, and Françoise was always +making me wash my face and hands because of the smoots. We had to go +to stupid churches and galleries, and papa made me say history to him +every day. I hate history even worse than geography and arithmetic. +After that came Paris, and there were more churches and pictures, and +everybody talked French. Now we've come here, and it's going to be +Christmas next week, though I don't see how it really can be, with all +the roses out just the way they are at home in June. I don't see any +use in Christmas without any people to give presents, and I just wish +there wasn't going to be any, so there!" + +"But, Maisie darling," began Mrs. Barton, eagerly, "there will be +presents. Grandpa and Grandma and all the aunties and uncles have sent +money to spend for our Christmas, and we are planning a very merry day." + +But Maisie's cross little face did not brighten. + +"It won't be like Christmas at home, anyway," she persisted. "How can +it be, without any party, and with nobody but you and papa and Auntie +Belle and Françoise to buy presents for? Even if we had a tree, there +wouldn't be any people to come to it." + +Auntie Belle opened her lips as if she were going to say something, but +at a glance from her brother she closed them again. Mrs. Barton looked +really distressed, but Mr. Barton only smiled. + +"Come here, Maisie," he said, laying down his newspaper, and lifting +his little daughter on his knee. "So Europe is a failure in your +estimation, and you would much rather have spent the winter in +Morristown, New Jersey, than in France or Italy." + +"Much rather," said Maisie, with decision; "I wish we hadn't come." + +"That is really a very sad state of affairs, especially when mamma and +Auntie Belle and I are all enjoying ourselves so much. But I thought +we agreed that the pantomime and the Zoo in London were rather good +fun, after all, and that the Bois in Paris was even nicer than Central +Park. Then how about the ponies?" + +Maisie was beginning to look a little ashamed of her outburst. + +"London and Paris weren't so very bad," she admitted, reluctantly, "and +I do like the ponies, but it's Christmas--oh, Papa, it's dreadful not +to be at home on Christmas!" And Maisie took out her handkerchief and +wiped her eyes. + +"We are all sorry to be away from our dear ones on Christmas, of +course," said Mr. Barton, "and we shall miss them very much; but you +know people can't expect to have all the good things in the world at +the same time. Now, I have an idea. You have always had very 'Merry +Christmasses' at home, but you are afraid this one isn't going to be +quite the same thing. How would it do to try to make this Christmas +just as merry for some one else as your friends made yours for you last +year?" + +"I don't think that would be any fun," said Maisie, who did not look +much impressed by her father's suggestion. "Besides, we don't know any +people here." + +"It is true that we don't know any one as yet, but Christmas is nearly +a week off, and in the meantime we might be on the look out. Suppose +you think the matter over for a day or two, and see how it strikes you." + +Maisie did not look as if she considered her father's suggestion at all +an interesting one, but at the moment her ear was caught by the sound +of distant music, and glad of any opportunity to change a conversation +which was threatening to become personal, she slipped down off her +father's knee, with the remark. + +"There are some more musicians; I want to see them." And promptly +disappeared through the open French window on to the balcony, which +overlooked the garden, where roses bloomed all winter long. + +"Poor mite!" said Mrs. Barton, when Maisie had left the room, "we +forget what a baby she really is. Of course she cannot be expected to +enjoy the things that we do. I almost wish I had taken mother's advice, +and left her at home, though it would have been very hard to part from +her." + +"I don't agree with you at all," said Mr. Barton smiling. "Has it +ever occurred to you, Alice, that our small daughter is just a trifle +selfish?" + +"I don't consider her in the least selfish," Mrs. Barton declared +indignantly. "She is the most generous little thing in the world. +Why, only this morning I had to prevent her giving a whole franc to +some of those ridiculous street musicians she is so fond of. She is +always giving away her pocket-money, and one of her chief reasons for +being unhappy just now is because she has so few people for whom to buy +Christmas presents this year." + +"All very true. Maisie loves to shop, and when her pocket-money is all +gone she will come to us for more, but honestly now, Alice dear, has +the child ever been obliged to give up anything she really wanted?" + +Auntie Belle gave her brother a quick, comprehending glance, and with +difficulty repressed a laugh. She was really very fond of her little +niece, but there had been times lately when she had found Maisie just +a little tiresome. But Mrs. Barton looked really unhappy. She was very +conscientious, and honestly tried to bring up her little girl in the +best way, but Maisie was such a funny, sweet-tempered little person, +that it was hard to keep from spoiling her. She was an only child, and +the joy of her mother's heart. + +Before Mrs. Barton could reply, however, Maisie herself reappeared. + +"It's a boy and a little girl this time," she announced, with the air +of a person imparting most interesting news. "The little girl isn't +much bigger than me. She sings and the boy plays the mandolin. Please +give me some money for them, Papa. They look very poor; they haven't +any shoes or stockings on." + +"I have known boys who preferred going without shoes and stockings to +wearing them," said Mr. Barton, laughing, but he handed Maisie some +small coins, and the little girl once more disappeared from view. + +"Hark!" exclaimed Auntie Belle, in a tone of sudden interest; "listen +to that child's singing." + +They were all silent for a moment, and through the open window came the +sound of a child's voice, singing a little French ballad. It was a very +sweet, clear little voice, though as yet quite untrained, and there was +a strange pathos in it, which touched the hearers in a way that they +could hardly have explained. + +"Rather better than one usually hears," Mr. Barton said, when the +ballad came to an end. "It is shameful, though, that a child of that +age should be allowed to go about the streets singing. She ought to be +at school or at home with her mother." + +Just then there was a tap at the sitting-room door, and Françoise, +Maisie's French maid, appeared, with the announcement that the ponies +were at the door. + +"I gave them the money, but I don't think they were very polite," +remarked Maisie, coming from the balcony at Françoise's summons. "The +boy took off his hat, but the little girl didn't even smile, and she +never looked up once." + +"Perhaps she has never been taught to be polite," said Mrs. Barton. +"Now run along, my darling, and have a pleasant drive. Don't stay out +late, and do be careful of those dreadful motor cars." + +Ten minutes later, Maisie, seated by Françoise's side in the pony cart, +was driving the pretty little pair of cobs down the boulevard in the +direction of the sea. A small boy in livery occupied the seat behind, +but beyond an occasional word to the ponies, he had nothing to do. +Maisie had always lived in the country, and had ridden her first pony +when she was five. Although only just ten, she could already both drive +and ride better than many people twice her age. She had always cared +more for animals than for toys, and the leaving her pony and other +pets had been one of the hardest things about going abroad for the +winter. It had been a great delight to her, when, on their arrival at +Nice--where they expected to spend several weeks--her father had hired +the little pair of cobs for her use, and the afternoon drives into the +country, or along the esplanade by the sea, were by far the pleasantest +hours of the day. + +To-day she chose the esplanade. It was a glorious afternoon; the air +was soft and balmy, and felt much more like April than December. The +sea was very calm, but the little waves danced and sparkled in the +sunshine. Françoise--who loved everything connected with her native +land--was enchanted, and asked Maisie if she did not think it was +"_magnifique_," but Maisie--who was still feeling rather aggrieved on +the subject of Christmas--replied crossly that she thought Morristown +was much prettier, and the maid was forced to fall back on the small +groom for sympathy. Antoine had spent three winters in Nice, and was +quite ready to talk about the attractions of the place, and he and +Françoise became so enthusiastic, and repeated the words "_magnifique_" +and "_charmante_" so many times that Maisie grew quite tired of hearing +them. + +"I wish you'd talk about something else," she said at last. Maisie +had had French nurses all her life, and spoke that language quite as +fluently as her own. + +"You have no love for the beautiful," said Françoise, severely. + +"I have, too, but I get tired hearing people always talking about the +same thing. I'm not going to stay here any longer. I'm going to buy +Christmas presents." And she resolutely turned the ponies' heads in a +homeward direction. + +"Your mamma does not wish you to shop in the afternoon," remonstrated +Françoise; "she says you are to be out in the fresh air." + +"I don't like the fresh air, and I've got twenty francs that papa gave +me yesterday to buy Christmas presents with. Next Saturday will be +Christmas, though I don't see how it can be with all the roses out, and +last year I shopped every day for two whole weeks." + +Françoise was still inclined to object, but Maisie was in one of her +obstinate fits, and the argument was threatening to become a serious +one, when the little girl's attention was attracted by something, which +for the moment directed her thoughts into a new channel. + +"Look at that little girl crying on the bench," she exclaimed, with +suddenly aroused interest. "She's bigger than I am; I should think +she'd be ashamed to have people see her crying in the street. Why, I do +believe it's the same little girl who was singing in front of the hotel +just before we went out! What's the matter, Antoine?" For Antoine had +suddenly uttered a startled exclamation, and half risen in his seat. + +"Pardon, Mademoiselle, but might I be permitted to speak to the little +girl for a moment? It is poor little Celeste Noel, and she is alone." + +"Why shouldn't she be alone?" Maisie inquired, as she brought the +ponies to a stand-still. "She must be ten or eleven." + +"Because she is blind, and it always frightens her to be left alone." + +"Blind! Oh, how sad! I think I will go and speak to her too." + +"Indeed you will do nothing of the kind, Mademoiselle Maisie," cried +Françoise, indignantly. "Your mamma would never--" + +But already Maisie, with characteristic impetuosity, had sprung out +of the pony cart, throwing the reins to Françoise, and the maid, who +did not like driving, and was in constant fear of the horses running +away, was too frightened to finish her sentence. Meantime Antoine had +already reached the bench, on which the little blind girl was crouched, +her face buried in her hands, shaking from head to foot with sobs. He +was quickly followed by Maisie. + +"What is the matter?" she inquired in her pretty, fluent French, before +Antoine had had time to utter a word, and she laid a kind little hand +on one of the blind child's shoulders. + +[Illustration: SHE LAID A KIND LITTLE HAND ON ONE OF THE BLIND +CHILD'S SHOULDERS.] + +At the sound of the friendly voice, the little girl lifted her head, +and an expression of relief came into her face. It was a pretty, +pathetic little face, in spite of the tear stains, and there was +nothing repulsive or painful in the sight of the downcast eyes. + +"Pierre has left me all alone," she said, with a mighty effort to check +the rising sobs. "I am afraid to be alone." + +"Don't cry, Celeste," said Antoine, soothingly; "you are quite safe +here; nothing can harm you. Pierre will soon be back." + +Celeste turned her head eagerly in the direction of the new voice. + +"It is Antoine Dupont," she said eagerly; "I know your voice. Pierre +said he was tired of playing for me to sing, and that I must stay here +until he comes for me. He may stay away all the afternoon; he did one +day last week, and I am so afraid of the horses and those terrible +motor cars; they come so near and make such a dreadful noise. Besides, +I am afraid Pierre will spend all the money for sweets and marbles, and +there will be nothing to take home to poor Maman Remo." + +Antoine's eyes flashed angrily. + +"Pierre is a beast," he muttered. "If my father could catch him, he +would beat him as he deserves." + +"Where do you live?" inquired Maisie, whose interest and sympathy were +growing stronger every moment. + +"It is a long way from here; I could not possibly go there myself." + +"No, of course you couldn't, but we could take you in the pony cart, if +Antoine knows the way. Would you like to go with us?" + +"It is little Mademoiselle Barton," Antoine explained. "She drives the +cobs. I told you about her the other day." + +Celeste's face brightened perceptibly. + +"I remember," she said, "the little American girl, with the long soft +hair, that you said you would like to have me feel. Yes, I will go with +you. You are very kind; you gave Antoine chocolates, and he gave them +to me." + +Antoine blushed at this mention of his generosity, but Maisie was +pleased. + +"Antoine is a nice boy," she said, approvingly, "and I will give him +some more chocolates when we go home. I have a whole box full, that +Auntie Belle gave me yesterday. I will send you some, too, if you like +them. Now come along." + +Celeste rose promptly, and held out her hand, and as Maisie took it, +and led the way to the waiting pony cart, her heart was suddenly filled +with a great pitying tenderness, such as she had never felt before in +her life, and she felt suddenly as if she wanted to cry. + +At the sight of Maisie returning with her strange companion, Françoise +once more found her voice. + +"Leave that child alone, and get in at once, Mademoiselle Maisie," she +commanded. "You are a very naughty little girl, and I shall certainly +tell your mamma what you have done. Antoine, come here this instant, +and hold these ponies. You know it terrifies me to be left alone with a +horse." + +Antoine, feeling considerably conscience-smitten, sprang to the ponies' +heads, but Maisie had no intention of relinquishing her charge. + +"I'm going to take the little blind girl home," she explained. "Her +brother ran away and left her, and she is frightened. Please move up, +Françoise, so she can sit between us on the seat." + +"Indeed you will do nothing of the kind," returned Françoise, +decidedly. "Your mamma would never allow it. Take the child back to the +bench where you found her, and then we must go on. It is getting late, +and we must hurry if you wish to shop before going home." + +But Maisie did not move. + +"The little girl is blind, Françoise," she said, reproachfully, "and +she is frightened. I know papa and mamma wouldn't mind my taking her +home. They like to have me do kind things for people. Please let us +take her. Antoine knows her." + +Françoise wavered. She was not really an unkind woman, and she noticed +that, although very poorly dressed, the little blind girl was not +at all dirty. But now, to the surprise of every one, it was Celeste +herself who drew back. + +"I--I would rather not go, please," she said, her cheeks crimsoning, +and she took a few quick steps backward, in the direction of the bench +where she had been sitting. + +"Why not?" inquired Maisie, in surprise, and she grasped her new +friend's hand still more firmly. + +"The lady does not want me. I would rather wait here for Pierre. Please +take me back to the bench." + +"There, you see, Françoise, you have hurt her feelings," cried Maisie, +indignantly. "Please do come, Celeste; I want you very much, and so +does Françoise. You do want her, don't you, Françoise?" + +"Yes, come, my child," said the maid, in a much gentler tone, and she +made room for Celeste to sit beside her on the seat. "Now, Antoine, if +you know where the little girl lives, direct us there at once." + +Thus urged, Celeste though still looking a little uncomfortable, +allowed herself to be lifted into the cart, and in accordance with +Antoine's directions, Maisie turned the ponies' heads, and they trotted +away towards the home of her little protégée. + +"Does your brother often leave you like that?" Maisie inquired, +sympathetically, as the little blind girl settled back in her seat, +with a sigh of unmistakable enjoyment. + +"Pierre is not my brother; he is Maman Remo's boy. My brother would +never be so cruel. He was always kind, and once he beat a boy who +teased me." + +"Why does your brother let you go out with that horrid Pierre--why +doesn't he take you himself?" + +A shadow crept into the child's face, and her lip trembled. + +"He is not here," she said, sadly. "He went away four years ago, to +seek his fortune, and he has never come back since." + +"To seek his fortune?" repeated Maisie, looking puzzled. "I thought it +was only in fairy tales that people did that. Where did he go?" + +Celeste shook her head. + +"I do not know," she said. "Maman Remo thinks he may have gone to +America. We have never heard from him since he went away. He told Maman +Remo he would not come back until he had made his fortune." + +"And who is Maman Remo?" + +"She is the lady who has taken care of me ever since my own maman died. +She promised Louis she would let me stay with her until he came back." + +"And is she kind--do you love her?" + +"Oh, yes, indeed, she is very kind, and I love her very much. She was +so good to my poor maman when she was ill, and so was Papa Remo, too, +but he is dead now. He was run over by a motor car, two years ago, in +Paris. That is why I am so afraid of them. We lived in Paris then, and +Papa and Maman Remo had a house where they took lodgers. There was a +shop on the first floor, and they sold beautiful flowers. But after +papa was killed maman could not pay the rent, and so we came here to +Nice, and she does washing for the people in the hotels, and Pierre and +I earn money, too." + +"I know you do," said Maisie eagerly. "I heard you sing in front of our +hotel this afternoon. I threw you some pennies, and I wondered why you +never looked up or smiled, as the other musicians do." + +Celeste flushed. "That was because I could not see you, and Pierre does +not always tell me when people throw pennies. He is afraid I will keep +the account, and tell Maman Remo if he does not bring all the money +home." + +"Pierre must be a very bad boy," said Maisie, with conviction. + +"I am afraid he is not always good, and it is a great pity, because +his mother loves him so much, and it makes her so unhappy when he does +mean, bad things." + +"When did you first come to live with Maman Remo?" inquired Maisie, who +was beginning to find this new acquaintance very interesting. + +"It was five years ago, just after my own papa died, that maman and +Louis and I came to her house to live. My papa was a great singer. He +had a wonderful voice, and he sang at the opera in Paris. But he caught +a terrible cold one winter, and lost his voice, and after that we were +very poor. He was ill for a long time, and maman nursed him, and after +he died she was ill too. Maman Remo says it was because she had worked +so hard to nurse papa and take care of us all. She used to sew all +day to earn money for us, and they paid her so little at the shops. +She lived a year after we came to the Remo's, and then she died too, +and Louis and I were left alone. Louis used to help in the shop, but +he never liked it. He had a beautiful voice; even more beautiful than +papa's, and he loved music better than anything else in the world. So +when maman was dead, he went away to seek his fortune." + +"It's very interesting," said Maisie; "it sounds just like a story. Why +doesn't your brother ever write to you or let you know where he is?" + +"He would not know where to write. You see, there was no way of telling +him when we left Paris, after Papa Remo was killed. Maman Remo cannot +write." + +"How queer," said Maisie. "I thought all grown-up people could write. +Suppose your brother comes home some time, and wants to find you; how +will he be able to do it?" + +"I do not know," said Celeste, mournfully. "It is very sad, and I often +cry about it. I am sure he will come some time, and if he does not find +us he will be so unhappy, for he was always good, and we loved each +other very much." + +The little blind girl looked so sad and distressed, that Maisie thought +it might be as well to change the subject, so, after they had both been +silent for a moment, and Antoine had given a direction about the next +turning, she inquired whether Celeste was not glad Christmas was so +near. + +"Oh, yes, very glad," said the child, her face brightening. "I love +Christmas. Maman used to say I must always love it, because my name, +Celeste Noel, means Celestial Christmas." + +"I think it is a beautiful name," said Maisie, much impressed. "I wish +mine were half as pretty, but it's just plain Mary Barton, though +everybody calls me Maisie. Do you always have a good time on Christmas?" + +"I used to have beautiful times when maman was alive, and Louis was at +home, and even now I love it very much." + +"What are you going to do this year?" Maisie inquired, with interest. + +"Oh, Maman Remo will take me to High Mass at the cathedral, and the +music will be beautiful. I think I love music as much as Louis does, +though I have not his wonderful voice. In the afternoon perhaps she +will take me to the concert in the Public Gardens. She is too busy to +take me other days, and Pierre does not like music, though he plays the +mandolin for me to sing, but no one ever works on Christmas, not even +Maman Remo." + +"And don't you expect any presents? I thought everybody had some kind +of presents on Christmas." + +"I used to have presents when maman and Louis were here, but Maman Remo +is very poor; she has no money to spend for such things." + +Maisie was silent for a moment. The thought of a Christmas without +presents was such a new one, that it took time to accustom herself to +it. She really could not imagine what such a Christmas would be like. +Then another idea flashed into her mind, and she inquired, eagerly-- + +"But suppose you knew you were to have a present--what would you rather +have than anything else?" + +"I know what I would like best, but I could never have it; it is too +expensive." + +"What is it? Do please tell me." + +"The little statue of the Blessed Mother with the Baby Jesus in her +arms. It is in the window of a shop on the Boulevard Messina. Pierre +told me about it, and one day we went into the shop, and the man was +very kind. He let me hold it in my hand, it was so beautiful to feel +the dear Mother's face and the precious Baby's. I would rather have it +than anything else in the world." + +"And how much does it cost?" Maisie asked anxiously. + +"Oh, a great deal of money; nearly twenty francs. Certainly we could +never buy such a beautiful thing." + +"Twenty francs is four dollars, isn't it?" said Maisie reflectively. +"Four dollars isn't very much. I spent five for mamma's Christmas +present last year, and nearly six for papa's." + +Celeste's astonishment was almost too great for words. + +"You Americans must be very rich indeed," she said. "We heard about how +rich you were. That is why Louis wanted to go to America to seek his +fortune." + +"There are a good many poor people in America, too," said Maisie. "I +think there must be poor people everywhere. I think I would rather be +poor in Nice than in New York. New York is such a big, noisy place, but +Morristown, where my home is, is lovely." + +Celeste began to look troubled again. + +"I hope Louis is not very poor," she said, in a tone of real distress. +"Sometimes I am so afraid he may be, even poorer than we are. I lie +awake thinking about it at night." + +"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said practical Maisie. "He may not +be poor at all, you know, and if he isn't, you are worrying all for +nothing. Auntie Belle says it is very foolish to worry about things +until you are sure they are going to happen. That's what she said to +mamma when I was ill last winter, and mamma thought I was getting +scarlet fever. It turned out not to be scarlet fever, at all, only +German measles, so Auntie Belle was quite right. How old was Louis +when he went away to seek his fortune?" + +"Just eighteen, and I was eight. He is ten years older than me. He is +twenty-two now, and I am twelve." + +"A big boy of eighteen ought to be able to take care of himself," +Maisie remarked, with cheerful conviction. "I really don't believe you +need worry about him. Perhaps he will be very rich when he comes home. +In stories the people who go to seek their fortunes always come home +rich." + +"I don't think I care very much about his being rich if he is only +well and strong," said Celeste, with a sigh. "I do miss him so much. +Sometimes it seems as if I couldn't wait, but Maman Remo says I must +pray to the good God every day, and by and by He will let Louis come +home and find us." + +"Oh, I am sure He will," said Maisie, "and I know Louis will be rich, +too, like the people in books. I don't suppose you ever have to go to +school or learn lessons, on account of being--the way you are, you +know." + +"No," said Celeste, "but I wish I could. I don't want to grow up +ignorant like Maman Remo." + +"But I don't see how you can help it; you couldn't learn to read and +write like other people, could you?" + +"Not just the same, but I could learn to read and write the way blind +people do. If I could only go to the school for the blind in Paris, I +should be so happy." + +Maisie was more surprised by this remark than by anything her new +friend had said yet. That any person in her senses should actually wish +to go to school and to learn lessons, was a state of affairs that she +had never even contemplated as the wildest possibility. + +"I never heard of a school for the blind," she said, doubtfully; "is it +a nice place?" + +"Oh, it is a beautiful place! I was there once, when I was a very +little girl. Maman and Louis went with me, and a kind gentleman took us +around, and told us such interesting things. There were books full of +little dots that the blind children read with their fingers, and raised +maps to teach them geography, and they let me take them, and told me +how they used them. And, oh, so many other wonderful things! But the +best of all was the music. Some of the children played and sang for us, +and it was beautiful. I wanted to stay there, but the gentleman said +they did not take any children under eight, and I was only six." + +"Well, you are more than eight now, so why don't you go, if you think +you will like it so much?" Maisie inquired, with interest. + +"Because Paris is so far away, and it costs so much money to go there. +Besides there is no one to take me, and I cannot go by myself. If Louis +were here, I know he would take me." + +"I should think you would be glad you didn't have to go," said Maisie +cheerfully. "I know I should be if I were you. You are the first girl I +have ever met who was sorry because she couldn't go to school. I go to +school at home, but the very best part about coming abroad this year, +was that I wouldn't have to go all winter. At first mamma thought of +taking a governess, and that would have been dreadful, but papa said +he was sure I would learn enough travelling in different countries, so +mamma changed her mind, and I only have to do history and spelling for +an hour every morning with her or with Auntie Belle." + +Celeste said nothing, and there was a short silence, which was broken +by Antoine's direction-- + +"This is the street, Mademoiselle; it is the first house on the left." + +They turned into a little narrow back street, lined on both sides with +small, shabby houses, before the very smallest and shabbiest of which +the ponies were brought to stand, and the groom sprang to the ground, +and came round to the side of the cart, to help the little blind girl +out. + +Françoise, who had been feeling far from comfortable during the short +drive, looked decidedly relieved. + +"Bid the little girl good-bye at once, Mademoiselle Maisie," she said; +"it is getting late." + +But Maisie was in no hurry. + +"Good-bye," she said, reluctantly. "Are you sure you will find some one +at home? I don't like to leave you alone again." + +Celeste smiled, and explained that she did not in the least mind being +alone at home; it was only in the street that she was afraid. + +"Besides, I am quite sure Maman Remo will be in this afternoon," she +added. "She is ironing some clothes that must go back to one of the +hotels to-night." + +But Maisie insisted that Antoine should take the little blind girl +in, and make sure that she was quite safe before leaving her. She +would have greatly enjoyed going in herself, and making Maman Remo's +acquaintance, but that she dared not suggest, well knowing that +Françoise would never consent to such a proceeding. So she bade Celeste +good-bye regretfully, and watched the little figure disappear with +Antoine into the small, shabby house. In a few moments the boy returned. + +"Was Maman Remo at home?" she inquired anxiously, as Antoine resumed +his seat, and the ponies started off at a leisurely trot. + +"Yes, Mademoiselle, and she was very angry when she heard what had +happened. That Pierre of hers is a beast. No one but a beast would +leave a little blind child alone in the streets like that. He deserves +a good beating." + +"Have you known the family long?" asked Françoise, who was, perhaps, +more interested in poor little Celeste than she cared to show. + +"Oh, yes, a long time. Every one knows Madame Remo, and every one is +sorry for the child; she is such a dear little thing. Madame Remo works +very hard, and Pierre is too lazy to be of any help. The only thing he +will do is to play his mandolin for Celeste to sing, and even that he +is getting tired of. You see how he treats her. Madame Remo is a very +good woman; my mother respects her greatly." + +"She must be a good woman to keep that child all these years," observed +Françoise, sympathetically. "I do not suppose she receives a penny for +it." + +"No, indeed, not one. People often ask her why she does not send +Celeste to the asylum, but she says she loves the child like her own, +and nothing will induce her to part with her." + +"Françoise," said Maisie, with sudden determination, "I'm not going +shopping; I'm going straight home. I've got a beautiful plan, and I +want to tell papa and mamma all about it." + + * * * * * + +Mr. and Mrs. Barton and Auntie Belle were just starting out for an +afternoon walk when the pony cart drew up once more before the Hotel de +Nice. With one bound, Maisie was on the sidewalk, and had seized her +father's hand in both her own. + +"I've found somebody, Papa," she cried, joyously. "You said a good many +things might happen in a week, and one has happened already. She's +a little blind girl, the same one that sang in front of the hotel +this afternoon, only then I didn't know she was blind. She hasn't +any father or mother, only a brother, and he's gone away to seek his +fortune. She doesn't expect a single Christmas present because Maman +Remo, who is a very good woman, Antoine says, is very poor, but she +loves Christmas just the same, because her name is Celeste Noel, which +means Celestial Christmas. The thing she wants most in the world is a +little statue that costs twenty francs. I want to buy it for her, and +a lot of other things besides. Please say I can. You said I could make +somebody else's Christmas as merry as mine was last year. I thought I +wouldn't care much about doing it at first, but I've changed my mind, +and just think what a beautiful surprise it will be for poor little +Celeste!" + + + + + CHAPTER II + + +"Are you ready, Auntie Belle?" + +"I'll be ready in five minutes. Now do be quiet, Maisie, like a good +girl, and let me finish this letter. I want it to catch the next mail." + +Maisie heaved an impatient sigh, and shifted her position from one foot +to the other. She was standing in the doorway of her aunt's room, ready +dressed for a morning walk, and Auntie Belle was hurriedly finishing a +letter, begun several days before, to a girl friend at home. There was +a short silence, and then Maisie broke out again-- + +"Seems to me you are always writing letters, Auntie Belle, how can you +think of so many things to say to people?" + +Auntie Belle made no answer, but continued scribbling away in silence. + +"I never can think of things to say when I write letters," Maisie went +on, ignoring her aunt's silence. "Mamma said I must write to Grandma +yesterday, and I did, but the letter was only a page long. How many +pages is yours?" + +"Maisie, if you don't go away and leave me to finish this letter in +peace, I shall never be ready to go Christmas shopping with you this +morning. I told you I would be through in five minutes, and so I will +if you will only leave me alone. Do run away and talk to some one else, +and I'll find you when I'm ready." + +"All right, I'll go downstairs, and you can meet me in the hall, but be +sure you do come in five minutes. If you don't I shall have to come and +hurry you up. We've got a great deal of shopping to do this morning, +and if we don't start soon we won't be through in time for lunch." + +Auntie Belle murmured something unintelligible, and Maisie departed +reluctantly. When her aunt came hurrying downstairs some ten minutes +later, with her letter in her hand, she found the little girl in +the lower hall, in earnest conversation with Madame Strobel, the +pleasant-faced landlady. + +"I've been telling Madame all about my plan," she explained, "and she's +so interested. She knows Celeste and Maman Remo, too." + +"Yes, I do indeed," said the landlady, heartily. "Madame Remo has +washed for us ever since she came to Nice, and a very good and worthy +woman she is. As for the little blind girl, every one is interested in +her. Has Mademoiselle perhaps heard her sing?" + +"Only once," said Auntie Belle, "and then it was in the distance, but I +remember thinking the child had an unusually sweet voice." + +"Isn't it pleasant to be doing kind things for 'worthy' people?" +remarked Maisie, as she and her aunt walked down the street together. +"I think it's one of the pleasantest things I've ever done. Do you +know, I've decided to be a philanthropist when I grow up? It's so +interesting making other people happy." + +Auntie Belle laughed. + +"You will have to have plenty of money if you are going to be a +philanthropist," she said. "It might be as well to begin to save a +little now, don't you think so?" + +Maisie's bright face was clouded for a moment, and she looked a little +puzzled. + +"I hate saving money," she said; "there are always so many things I +want to spend it for. Besides, philanthropists are always generous. I +don't see how I can save my allowance and be generous at the same time." + +"That is a problem which has troubled older heads than yours, I +fancy," said Auntie Belle, "but I don't think I would worry about it +just yet if I were you. You have had a good many plans for your future, +and you know you might happen to change again. I think the last idea +was to be a circus rider, wasn't it?" + +Maisie felt sure her aunt was laughing at her, and as she objected +to being laughed at as much as most little girls do, she hastened to +change the subject by saying-- + +"I keep thinking of more and more things that I want for the tree. It +won't do to have candles, because Celeste couldn't see them, and might +burn herself if she went too near. I want her to be able to feel all +the things, and even take them off the tree herself if she would like +to. I suppose it must be a great comfort to a blind person to feel +things, don't you?" + +Auntie Belle said she supposed it must be, and Maisie chatted on +happily. + +"First of all, we must buy the statue, because that is the most +important. Won't she be happy when she gets it? Then we must have some +candy, of course, and a sachet. Françoise says she is sure Celeste +would like a sachet with perfume in it. I think I'll get a bottle of +cologne, too--blind people must like nice things to smell. Then I want +to get a pretty little purse for her to keep her pennies in, and a pair +of soft lined gloves to keep her hands warm. I suppose she's too old +for toys, but perhaps we can find some pretty little things that she'd +like to feel. Mamma's going to give an envelope with money in it, so +Maman Remo can buy her some shoes and stockings, but I want all the +other things to come from me." + +Auntie Belle--who had been much interested in all she had heard of the +little blind girl--was quite ready to listen, and sympathize, and the +two chatted on pleasantly till they reached the Place Messina, the +principal shopping district in Nice. + +"It's so much more fun shopping with you than with Françoise," Maisie +remarked, with a little skip of delight, as they turned into the busy +thoroughfare. "I suppose I ought to be very sorry for her headache, but +if she hadn't one this morning, you would have gone off somewhere with +papa and mamma, and I shouldn't have had you to help me choose things. +Oh, look at those Christmas trees! Don't they smell like home? I was +afraid nothing over here was going to seem a bit like Christmas, but +it's beginning to, just a little." + +It was a glorious morning, and the Place was crowded with busy +Christmas shoppers. Many of them were English and Americans, who were +wintering at the gay resort, but there was a goodly sprinkling of +natives as well, and it seemed to Maisie and her aunt that everybody +was looking unusually happy. They had no difficulty in finding the shop +with the little statues in the window and Maisie at once recognized +Celeste's favorite, the Virgin Mother, with the infant Jesus in her +arms. + +"I want that one," she announced, before the obliging shop-keeper had +time to inquire their wishes. "It costs twenty francs, I know." + +The man looked surprised, and Maisie hastened to explain in her +friendly way. + +"The reason I know how much it costs is because a little blind girl +told me. She said you were very kind, and let her take it in her hand +one day. She wants it more than anything else in the world, and I'm +going to give it to her for a Christmas present." + +The shop-keeper's face lighted up with pleasure. + +"I remember the child well," he said. "Indeed I would gladly have given +her the little image, but alas! we are poor people, and cannot afford +to be generous." + +Maisie thought he must be a very good man, even if he could not afford +to be generous, and she made several other purchases at his shop, as +well as the little statue, which Auntie Belle privately considered very +ugly. + +It took Maisie a long time to buy all she wanted, as each article +required a great deal of thought and consideration, and a good part of +the morning was passed in the shops. Auntie Belle was most kind and +sympathetic, but she grew a little tired after a time, and when at +last Maisie's money was nearly all gone, and at least a dozen parcels +had been ordered to be sent to their hotel, she proposed that they +should not shop any more that morning, but go to Rumpelmeyer's, the big +confectioner's, and have a cup of chocolate before going home. + +"All right," agreed Maisie, readily, "and please let me treat; I've got +nearly three francs left." + +Auntie Belle thanked her, but insisted on doing the "treating" herself +this time, and ten minutes later they were sitting at a little table, +sipping delicious chocolate, with whipped cream on the top. + +"My, but this is good!" exclaimed Maisie rapturously. "Do you suppose +that poor little Celeste ever has anything as delicious as this?" + +"Perhaps she wouldn't consider it delicious," said Auntie Belle. "I +once asked a little girl in my mission class whether she liked ice +cream, and she replied that it was first rate, but she liked olives and +sausage better." + +"What a queer taste she must have had," said Maisie, looking disgusted, +"but I'm sure Celeste isn't that kind of person at all. Her father was +an opera singer, and she has such pretty manners. Even Françoise says +she is very refined, and you know Françoise doesn't generally care for +poor children." + +"I am really very anxious to see that Celeste of yours," said Auntie +Belle. "From your description she must be quite a paragon." + +"You can see her whenever you want to," said Maisie, eagerly. "Let's go +to her house now, on the way home. I know the way, and I can invite her +to the Christmas tree." + +Auntie Belle glanced doubtfully at her watch. + +"It's after twelve," she said; "I'm afraid there won't be time before +luncheon." + +"Oh, yes there will; we don't have it till half-past one, and you +know papa is always late. Mamma said I might stop and ask her this +afternoon, when I am out with the ponies, but it would be so much nicer +to have you with me." + +Auntie Belle yielded. She had really some curiosity to see the +child about whom she had heard so much, and besides, she was a very +good-natured girl, and was always glad to give any one pleasure. + +"Very well," she said; "finish your chocolate, and we will go. I don't +suppose it can be far." + +Maisie replied that it was not far at all, and proceeded to drink her +chocolate so fast that it burnt her tongue. + +Just as they were rising to leave the shop, a party of ladies came in, +one of whom recognized Auntie Belle as an old acquaintance. + +"Why, if it isn't Isabel Barton!" she exclaimed in surprise, as she +hurried forward, and smilingly held out her hand. "I had no idea you +were here." + +"I have been here for over a week," said Auntie Belle, returning her +friend's greeting heartily. "I came over in November with my brother +and his wife and little girl, and we expect to spend some time here +before going to Italy." + +"How delightful! We are here for the winter, and have taken a villa. +My sister is just over typhoid, and the doctor has sent her to The +Riviera to recuperate. We like it immensely here, don't you?" + +Auntie Belle said she thought the place beautiful, but rather quiet so +early in the season. + +"It is rather early for gaiety," her friend agreed, "but we have +enjoyed every moment. Of course you have been to the opera." + +Auntie Belle replied that they had not been as yet, but that her +brother had promised to take them some evening, whereupon her +friend--who was an enthusiastic young person--launched forth on +an account of a wonderful performance that she and her family had +witnessed the previous night. + +"You must go," she declared, "if only for the sake of hearing that +wonderful young tenor. His voice is simply divine, and every one is +wild about him. He made his _début_ in Paris in the autumn, and I +believe Hammerstein has engaged him to sing in New York next season. He +isn't much more than a boy, and the best-looking creature you ever saw." + +"Would you like to be a tenor, Auntie Belle?" Maisie asked, when she +and her aunt had at last escaped from the talkative young lady, and +were hurrying along the street in the direction of the shabby little +house where Celeste Noel lived with Maman Remo. + +Auntie Belle laughed heartily. "You funny child," she said; "why in the +world should I want to be a tenor?" + +"Why, because every one would admire you, and come crowding to hear you +sing. I should love to have people admire me. Could a lady be a tenor +if she was very fond of music, and studied very hard?" + +"Hardly, but she might be a soprano, which I should think would be +equally satisfactory." + +"Perhaps that is what Celeste will be," said Maisie reflectively. "She +has a beautiful voice, and so has her brother Louis, and her father was +an opera singer before he caught cold and lost his voice." + +Auntie Belle admitted that it might be possible, and then she asked +a question about something else, and no more was said on the subject +of singers. A brisk walk of ten minutes brought them to the little +back street Maisie remembered, and Auntie Belle looked about her with +considerable interest. She was used to poverty at home, having spent +some months in a New York settlement, and it surprised her to find +how much more thrifty foreigners of a similar class appeared to be. +Poor and small as these houses were, each one was occupied by a single +family, and in many windows she saw blooming plants, while some even +boasted a canary in a gilt cage. + +"This is where she lives," announced Maisie, pausing before the door +through which she had watched the little blind girl disappear two days +before. "There doesn't seem to be any door-bell, so I suppose we'd +better knock. Oh, listen; she's singing." + +One of the windows was open, and through it could be distinctly heard +the sound of a clear, childish voice singing an old Christmas Carol. +"_Noel, Noel, tous chantantes!_" Auntie Belle loved music dearly, and +both played and sang herself. And as she listened to the little blind +girl's singing, her expression changed from good-natured curiosity to +real interest. + +"That child has a beautiful voice," she said, decidedly; "she should +not be allowed to strain it." + +Maisie was delighted. "I told you what a lovely voice she had," she +said triumphantly; "now you see it's true." + +Just then Celeste's song came to an end, and the sound of a broom could +be heard. + +"Maman Remo must be sweeping," said Maisie. "I hope she won't mind our +coming before she's finished her work." + +Auntie Belle said she did not believe Maman Remo would mind being +disturbed, and promptly knocked at the door. There was a moment's +silence, then footsteps approached, and the door was opened by the +little blind girl herself. + +"How do you do, Celeste?" said Maisie, in her friendly way. "I'm Maisie +Barton, the girl who brought you home in the pony-cart the other day." + +Celeste's face was suddenly irradiated by the brightest of smiles. + +"I know you," she cried, eagerly; "I remember your voice. Will you +please come in?" + +"My aunt is here, too," Maisie explained. "I brought her to see you." + +Celeste turned her bright welcoming face in the direction where she +believed the stranger to be, and held out her hand. + +"It was very kind of you to come," she said, in her pretty, refined +little voice. "I am sorry Maman Remo is out." + +"We have come to see you," said the young lady, kindly, and she took +the little outstretched hand and held it. Auntie Belle spoke French +as well as Celeste herself, for she had been educated at a Paris +boarding-school. + +Celeste led the way into the house, which appeared to consist of but +one room on the first floor, and drew two chairs for her visitors. +Maisie gazed at her in astonishment, for the little blind girl moved +about with as much ease as any seeing person, and appeared to know just +where to find everything she wanted. There was a large hole in the +bottom of one chair, and the other was also sadly the worse for wear. +Maisie was sure she had never seen such a poorly furnished room, but +Auntie Belle, accustomed to the homes of poor people at home, took in +all the details at a glance, and noticed with satisfaction that the +little house was scrupulously neat. Celeste was also neat, though her +calico dress had two large darns in the skirt, and her feet were bare. + +"We heard some one sweeping before we knocked," remarked Maisie, +curiously. "We thought it must be Maman Remo." + +"Oh, no, Maman Remo has gone down to the river to wash. I am all alone, +but I am never afraid of being alone in the house." + +Maisie glanced at the broom, which had been hastily thrust into a +corner and her wonder and interest grew. + +"Can you really sweep?" she demanded, incredulously. + +"Oh, yes, I can do many things. Maman Remo will not let me touch the +stove for fear of being burned, but I sweep and wash the dishes, and +make the beds." + +"You are the most wonderful person I ever heard of," said Maisie, in a +tone of conviction. "I always thought blind people just sat still all +the time unless somebody led them about." + +Celeste's laugh rang out merrily. She had a very musical laugh, and +there was something contagious in it, for before they quite realized +it, Auntie Belle and Maisie were both laughing, too. + +"You should see the children at the school in Paris," said Celeste, +when she had recovered her gravity. "They can do many more things than +I. The girls sew and knit, and the boys do carpenter's work. Then you +should hear them at their recreation. They shout and laugh, and chase +each other about the garden. My brother said he had never seen boys +play games better than they do." + +"It must be a wonderful place," said Maisie, much impressed. "I am +going to ask papa to take me there the next time we are in Paris. I +shouldn't think it would be so very bad to be blind, after all." + +A shadow crossed Celeste's bright face. + +"It may not be so bad if one has money and people to take one about," +she said, gravely, "but it is hard to be always dependent upon some one +who does not want the trouble." + +"Do you mean Pierre?" inquired Maisie, with a sudden recollection of +what the little blind girl had told her about Maman Remo's boy. + +Celeste nodded, and her lip quivered slightly. + +"Pierre always hated taking me about," she said, "but there was no one +else to do it, for poor Maman Remo is busy all day long. Now Pierre has +run away, and I don't know how I am ever going to earn any more money." + +"Run away?" repeated Maisie. "What a dreadful thing! What made him do +it?" + +"He has been threatening to do it for a long time. He wants to go to +sea and be a sailor. We hoped he would not really go, at least not +until he is older, for he is only fifteen, but the day he left me alone +on the Promenade Anglaise, and you brought me home, Maman Remo was very +angry, and she threatened to beat him if he ever did such a thing +again, Pierre was furious, and went out, saying he would never come +back. Maman Remo did not believe him at first, but when night came, and +he did not come home, she was frightened, and at last she went out to +look for him, but she could not find him, and when she came back again +I heard her crying for a long time. That was two days ago, and Pierre +has never come home since and now we are sure he has really gone for +good. A man, Maman Remo knows, thinks he saw him far out on the road +that leads to Marseilles, where the big ships are, but it is such a +long way off, maman is afraid he may die of hunger before he reaches +there." + +"He is such a bad boy that I shouldn't think she would care very much +what happened to him," said Maisie. But Celeste looked quite horrified. + +"I think all mothers must love their children whether they are bad or +good," she said. "Maman Remo loves Pierre, bad as he is, just as much +as my own maman loved Louis, who was the best boy in the world. It has +nearly broken her heart to have him run away like this. I would not +mind myself, for Pierre was often very unkind, but now that he is gone +there is no one to take me to sing in front of the hotels. I cannot +earn any more money, and we need money so much." + +"We heard you singing before we came in," said Maisie, "and Auntie +Belle said you had a beautiful voice." + +"I did indeed think so," said Auntie Belle, kindly. It was the first +time she had spoken since coming into the little house, but it was +never easy to break in upon Maisie's chatter, and she had really been +interested in the conversation of the children. "I think you have a +very sweet voice, and I hope that you may be able to have it properly +trained when you are older." + +Celeste looked much flattered. + +"If I could go to the school for the blind," she said, "I could have +regular singing lessons. That was one reason why maman and Louis were +so anxious to send me there." + +"Perhaps you will be a soprano when you grow up," remarked Maisie, glad +of an opportunity of airing her new word. "You can't be a tenor because +you are a girl. There is a very wonderful tenor singing at the opera +here now. A young lady was telling Auntie Belle about him this morning." + +"I know," said Celeste, eagerly; "I have heard of him, too. Madame +Dupont--Antoine's mother--goes to the opera sometimes, and she heard +him last week. She says he has the voice of an angel. Oh, what would I +not give to hear him!" + +"Have you ever been to the opera?" Maisie inquired, wonderingly. To her +the opera was merely a rather tiresome place, where people were obliged +to sit very still, and not even whisper, and where little girls were +sometimes taken on Saturday afternoons, because their mammas hoped it +might improve their taste in music. Celeste, however, appeared to have +different ideas about it. + +"No, I have never been," she said, regretfully. "I was too little to go +when my papa sang there, and it is much too expensive for Maman Remo. +Perhaps I shall go some day, if Louis ever comes home, for he loves the +opera better than any other place in the world, and I am sure I should +love it, too." + +Maisie looked doubtful. + +"Perhaps you might be disappointed," she said, "I was disappointed the +first time mamma took me, but then I can't sing, and perhaps that makes +all the difference." + +At this moment Auntie Belle glanced at her watch, and rose to go. + +"I am afraid we cannot stay any longer, Maisie," she said, "or we shall +be late for luncheon. Don't forget to tell Celeste what you came for." + +"Of course I won't forget," said Maisie, laughing; "I was just keeping +it for the last. Celeste, I came to invite you to my Christmas Tree. We +are going to have it on Christmas morning at eleven o'clock." + +"A Christmas Tree!" gasped Celeste, clasping her hands rapturously. +"Oh, how beautiful! I have never been to a Christmas Tree, but I have +smelled of them in the street." + +"Well, I hope you will do something more than smell one this time," +said Maisie. "Mamma says she will be glad to see Maman Remo, too, if +she can bring you. I think she knows our landlady, Madame Strobel." + +"Oh, yes, Madame Strobel is our good friend, and I am sure Maman will +bring me, for she never washes on Christmas. But--but--you are so good; +is there not something I can do for you?" + +"I don't want anything--" began Maisie, but Auntie Belle, noticing the +child's eager, wistful expression, hastened to add kindly-- + +"You can do something for us now if you will. Let us hear one song +before we go. We have only time for one." + +Celeste was charmed, and standing with folded hands, and a look of +quiet rapture on her face, she sang the beautiful Christmas song, +beginning "_Noel, Joyeuse Noel_." + +There were tears in Auntie Belle's eyes when the little blind girl had +finished her song, and the tone in which she thanked her was not quite +steady. + +"Isn't she interesting and wonderful and dear?" burst out Maisie, the +moment Maman Remo's door had closed behind them, and her aunt answered +heartily-- + +"She is one of the sweetest children I have ever seen, and I am sure +your papa will be fascinated by her voice." + + + + + CHAPTER III + + +It was Christmas Eve. All day the rain had fallen in a steady +down-pour, but at about four o'clock the wind had suddenly changed, the +sky cleared, and Nice had been treated to one of the glorious sunsets +for which the place is famous. The wind blew in sharp gusts through the +streets, giving an almost wintry feeling to the air, and Maisie, who +had gone out for a brisk walk with her father, gave little skips of +delight, declaring that it was really beginning to feel like Christmas. + +But in Maman Remo's tiny house, where the wind found its way through +every crack, it was not so pleasant. Indeed, it was most uncomfortably +chilly, for the fire in the stove had gone out, and there was nobody +to relight it. Maman Remo had not yet come home, and Celeste had been +forbidden to go near the stove. When Pierre was at home he usually +attended to the fire, but now the little blind girl was quite alone. +It was growing dark, too, but that Celeste did not notice, for to her +night and day were all the same, but the afternoon had seemed unusually +long, and she was beginning to wonder what could have kept Maman Remo +out so late. + +"It cannot possibly have taken her all this time to bring home the +clean clothes to the hotels," she said to herself. "I wish she would +come." + +But there was nothing to be gained by wishing, and so, being a +practical little person, not given to fretting over what could not be +helped, Celeste tried to think of something else. To-morrow would be +Christmas, and she would go to the little American girl's Christmas +Tree. How pleased Maman Remo had been to hear of the invitation! +"Then you will have a happy Christmas, my little one," she had said. +"Certainly I will take you to the hotel, and chat with the good Madame +Strobel until you are ready to return." It was very kind of Maman Remo +to be so much interested, for this would be a very sad Christmas to +her. Troublesome and disobedient as Pierre had often been, his mother +loved him dearly, and the thought of her only child wandering penniless +through the country, perhaps suffering from cold and hunger, was a +very terrible one to the poor woman. Celeste could hear her crying +every night when she thought the child was asleep, and she found that +it would not do to think much about Maman Remo if she wanted to be +cheerful on Christmas Eve. So she fell back on her one never failing +resource when she was sad or gay; she began to sing. She chose the +gayest song she knew, and again, as on the day when Maisie and her +aunt had made their call, the strains of "_Noel, Noel, tous chantantes +Noel!_" echoed through the little house. When she reached the end of +her song, she sang it over again. Indeed, she sang it half a dozen +times, for it was one of her favorites, and she did not want to sing +any but Christmas songs on Christmas Eve. But at last her throat +grew tired, and she felt that she could not sing any more. Then it +was very quiet in the little house. Outside the wind whistled and +howled, shaking the crazy windows in their frames, but inside the only +sound to break the stillness was the ticking of the old wooden clock. +Celeste could hear the ticking, but she could not see the time. A +mouse scuttled across the floor, with a little squeak, and the child +shivered, and her heart began to beat uncomfortably fast. She was never +afraid to be left alone in the house in the day-time, but after dark it +was different, and she felt sure it must be after dark now. What could +be keeping Maman Remo out so late? + +At last her quick ear caught the sound of an approaching footstep; the +handle of the door was turned, and some one came in. + +"Maman Remo," cried Celeste, joyfully, "is it Maman Remo?" + +"Surely, my little one; who else should it be? I am sorry to be so +late, but I was detained. Were you afraid?" + +"Oh, no," said Celeste cheerfully, "not really afraid, but a little +anxious. Your voice sounds tired, Maman." + +"Ah, yes, I am tired--very tired, and it is cold. I will hasten to +light the fire." + +"How I wish I could do it for you while you rest," said Celeste, +regretfully. But Maman Remo shook her head. + +"No, no, that is strictly forbidden," she said, with decision. +"Remember the poor blind woman Madame Dupont told us about, who was +burned to death trying to light a fire, that her husband and son should +find a warm house. Ah, but I am sorry you have been cold, my little +one." + +"It has not been so bad," Celeste assured her, "and it will soon be +warm now. Where have you been to keep you so late?" + +"I have told you I was detained. Children should not ask questions. Now +bring me the matches and some wood, that you can do without danger." + +Maman Remo's tone was cheerful, but perhaps it was as well that Celeste +could not see how white and tired her face looked. The child ran +eagerly for the matches, and the woman bent over the stove, trying to +warm herself at the burned out embers. There was a worried, almost +frightened look in her eyes, and in spite of all her efforts to appear +as usual, the little blind girl felt sure something was wrong. + +She stood by in silence while Maman Remo lighted the lamp, and started +the fire, and the troubled look deepened in her own face. + +"Have you had any news of Pierre to-day?" she inquired, timidly, when +the fire had been coaxed into a blaze, and she and Maman Remo were +warming themselves before it. + +"Not one word. I fear he has left us forever--my poor Pierre." + +Maman Remo heaved a sigh, but her voice sounded preoccupied, and +Celeste feared it could not be only anxiety about Pierre that was +troubling her kind friend to-night. + +"Are we going to the midnight mass?" she asked, after a moment's pause. + +Maman Remo started as if the question had brought her thoughts back +from somewhere a long way off. + +"Midnight mass," she repeated, vaguely. "Ah, surely, I had forgotten. +Would it disappoint you very much to stay at home to-night, my little +one? It is cold and I am very tired." + +"Oh, no," said Celeste, eagerly, "I should not mind at all. I am sorry +you are so tired, dear Maman; I am afraid you work too hard." + +"It is not the work that troubles me," said Maman Remo, with another +sigh. "I have worked hard all my life. If I can only keep my health, I +shall not mind anything else." + +"Are you not well, then--have you the pain in your back again?" Celeste +spoke quickly, and her face grew very grave. + +But Maman Remo did not seem disposed to talk about herself. With an +effort she shook off the weariness or depression which seemed to be +troubling her, and without answering Celeste's question, she began +hurrying about preparing the frugal supper of brown bread and milk, +which composed their usual evening meal. Celeste was very quiet all +through supper, but oddly enough, Maman Remo, who was usually so quick +to notice the child's every mood, did not seem to observe it. She was +really disappointed about the midnight mass, to which she had been +looking forward for weeks, but she did not want Maman Remo to know she +cared. Then, too, she was worried, though she could not have explained +why even to herself. It was very strange to hear Maman Remo, who had +always been so strong, complain of being tired. Was it only the anxiety +about Pierre that was troubling her, or was there some other cause, +of which she, Celeste, knew nothing? She had always been old for her +age--many blind children are--and perhaps few little girls of twelve +are often visited by such serious reflections as those which troubled +Celeste on that Christmas Eve. + +"You do not eat your supper. Are you not hungry this evening?" + +Maman Remo's tone sounded impatient, but it was the impatience of +anxiety. + +"I am not very hungry," Celeste answered, laying down her spoon. "I am +never so hungry when I have stayed in the house all day." + +"Perhaps you tire of the same food every day, but meat is so dear this +winter." + +"I do not care for meat," Celeste protested. "Have you eaten a good +supper yourself?" + +"Oh, good enough. It does not matter about me, but you must not lose +your appetite. When I was your age I could eat nails." + +"Nails would be very bad for the digestion," said Celeste, laughing. +"But if you have finished, may I not clear the table and wash the +dishes?" + +Maman Remo said she might, and while Celeste bustled about, busy with +the little household tasks she loved, the woman watched her sadly, +with an expression in her eyes that it was well the little blind girl +could not see. Once two big tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, only +to be hastily brushed away, with a muttered exclamation, "What am I +coming to? Crying at my time of life!" And then she rose hurriedly, and +insisted on helping Celeste with the dishes. + +Celeste was relieved to find her friend more like herself, and in +her relief she began to sing. Maman Remo winced as the first words +of "_Noel, Joyeuse Noel_," awoke the echoes in the little house, but +before Celeste had reached the last verse, a look of something like +peace had come into the woman's troubled face. + +"Sing something else," she said; "I like to hear you." And Celeste, +delighted at the request, sang song after song for the next half hour, +at the end of which time Maman Remo sent her to bed. + +"You must sleep well so as to be ready for the little American girl's +Christmas Tree," she said, kindly. + +Celeste smiled reassuringly. + +"I should be ready for that even if I sat up all night," she said. +"Oh, Maman dearest, won't it be beautiful? I cannot touch the candles, +certainly, but I shall feel their warmth on my face, and smell the good +smell. There will be chocolates on the tree, I am sure, and perhaps the +little American will give me some to take home, like those she gave +Antoine. And I shall wear my Sunday dress, and my shoes and woolen +stockings. Oh, to-morrow will be a happy day, will it not, Maman?" + +"Yes, yes, certainly; why should it not be, except that my Pierre is +away?" + +There was no trouble or anxiety on Celeste's face when she bade Maman +Remo good-night, and climbed the narrow, rickety stairs to the loft +where the family slept. She was only a little girl, after all, and it +was the night before Christmas. But when she had undressed, and crept +into the hard little bed that she shared with Maman Remo, sleep did not +come as it usually did the moment her head touched the pillow. It was +colder than usual, for one thing, and the blankets were not thick. She +shivered and drew the thin coverings closer, but still sleep did not +come. What was it that was worrying Maman Remo? Was it only anxiety +about Pierre, or was there something else besides? What would become of +them if maman should ever be ill, especially now that Pierre had gone +away? She was glad for her own part that Pierre had gone, for he had +never been kind, but maman loved him. Besides, if Pierre did not come +back, there would be no one to take her to the hotels to sing, and to +play her accompaniments. It was very sad to be blind and poor at the +same time. What a mistake the little American girl had made when she +said she did not think it was so bad to be blind! If she were not blind +she would not need Pierre to take her about. She could go by herself, +and earn money to help maman. But the little American girl was rich, +and rich people never understood such things. She had never been rich, +but once, long ago, when her papa sang in the Paris opera, they had not +been so poor. She could just remember the pretty, comfortable little +home, with her mamma looking so pretty and gay, and Louis coming home +from his lessons at the conservatory. Maman Remo said it was because +her papa had been extravagant that they had lost all their money, +and that her mamma had had to work so hard. It was all very sad and +perplexing. She was sure that if she ever had money she would not be +extravagant. Not that it was likely she ever would have any, unless +Louis came home rich, as the little American had said he might. But +that same little American had told her there were many poor people in +America. Oh, how she did hope Louis was not very poor! He was so big +and strong and handsome--it did not seem possible that he could be so +very poor. If the good God would only let Louis come home, what care he +would take of her and of Maman Remo too, and how happy they would all +be. + +When Celeste's reflections reached this point, her eyelids began +to droop, and she was just dropping off into a doze, when she was +startled wide awake again by the sound of a knock at the house door. +It was such an unusual thing for Maman Remo to have visitors at that +late hour, that Celeste sat up in bed, and listened, wondering who it +could possibly be. She heard maman go to the door, and then followed +the sound of voices, maman's, and that of another woman, which she +recognized at once as Madame Dupont's. Madame Dupont was Antoine's +mother, and a great friend of Maman Remo's. Celeste lay down again, +with a feeling of relief. She did not know what she had feared, but was +glad it was only Madame Dupont. But the knock had thoroughly aroused +her, and she lay listening to the voices in the room beneath. There was +a hole in the floor of the loft, into which she and Maman Remo had to +be careful not to step, so that it was really quite impossible to help +hearing every word that was spoken in the room downstairs. + +Maman Remo had brought her visitor to a seat near the stove, and was +expressing surprise that Madame Dupont should be out so late. + +"I shall be up late to-night on account of the midnight mass," her +friend explained, "and I thought I would just stop to wish you _Joyeuse +Noel_. I have brought you a bit of meat for to-morrow's dinner. I found +I had more than I needed, and it seemed a pity to waste it." + +Celeste smiled when she heard this, for she was fond of meat. "Oh, the +good Madame Dupont," she murmured, "how generous she is!" + +Maman Remo thanked her friend heartily for the meat, but there was +the same strange, tired sound in her voice that had troubled Celeste, +and Madame Dupont noticed it, too. She noticed something else, which +Celeste could not see, and that was how white and worn her good friend +was looking, but she had heard of Pierre's running away, and thought +she knew the reason. + +"Where is Celeste?" she questioned cheerfully, anxious to keep the +conversation in safe and pleasant channels. + +"In bed and asleep long ago, poor little one." + +"You are not taking her to mass, then? She is so fond of the music, I +thought she would certainly go with you." + +"I am not going myself to-night," said Maman Remo, with a sigh. + +"Not going! And it is Christmas Eve." + +"I am very tired. I have had a hard day, and I must rest, the doctor +says." + +"The doctor! You have been to him at last, then?" There was eager +anxiety in Madame Dupont's voice. + +"Yes, I went this afternoon, before I came home." + +"Well, and what did he tell you?" + +"He says I must go to the hospital for an operation, and the sooner I +go the more chance there is that I shall not die." + +Madame Dupont threw up her hands in dismay, and began pouring forth a +torrent of exclamations of sympathy. In the room above, little Celeste +sat up in bed, trembling from head to foot, and straining her ears +to catch every word. Maman Remo waited until her friend had finished +exclaiming and sympathizing, and then she said in a dull, tired voice-- + +"It is a serious operation, and even when it is over I shall have to +stay in the hospital for several weeks. And when I come out I shall not +be strong enough to work as I have been doing for a long time. I told +the doctor I would rather die." + +"No, no," cried Madame Dupont, the tears of sympathy streaming down +her honest face, "you must not say that; it is not right to wish to +die. The good God will surely find some way to help you, and you have +friends, remember, dear Madame Remo, you have friends." + +"Friends are very good," said Maman Remo, gratefully, "but I would +rather die than be a burden to those who have enough for themselves. +There is no one of my own left to care for me. My husband is dead, +Pierre has gone away, and poor little Celeste, what could she do?" + +At the mention of the name Celeste, Maman Remo's voice faltered for the +first time, and her sentence ended in a sob. + +"It is the thought of the child that is the hardest of all to bear," +she said, when she had recovered her composure. "She is such a gentle, +tender little thing, and who will there be to care for her in all the +months that I cannot work? I promised her mother and her brother that I +would always take care of her, and I have grown to love her as my own +child." + +"You will have to send her to the orphan asylum," said Madame Dupont, +who, though she was fond of the little blind girl, did not feel +disposed to offer her a home in her already crowded house. "Truly it is +not a bad place. The three little Roberts were sent there when their +parents died, and they all look well and happy." + +But Maman Remo only shook her head mournfully, and refused to be +comforted. + +"You do not know my little Celeste," she said. "She is not like +ordinary children. Her mother was a lady. You should have seen her, +so pretty and refined, and her father was a great singer. It is not +people like that who are sent to the asylum. The child would pine away +and die." + +"Then what will you do with her?" Madame Dupont inquired practically. + +"I do not know, and that is what is driving me mad. If I could only +find her brother, but alas, I have no idea what has become of him, or +if I could afford to send her to the school for the blind in Paris. She +longs to go there, and she would be happy among kind people; but the +ticket to Paris costs almost a hundred francs, and where could I get +a hundred francs? Besides, there would be no one to take her, and the +child could not take such a journey alone." + +"You might borrow the hundred francs," suggested Madame Dupont, "and +repay it when you are able to work again, and some one going to Paris +might be willing to look after the child on the journey." + +"I do not like to be in debt," said Madame Remo, proudly. "I would +borrow the money for the child's sake, though, if I were sure of being +able to pay it back. But suppose I should never be strong again. The +doctor says I shall be as well as ever in six months if I do as he +wishes, but doctors are sometimes mistaken." + +Madame Dupont was very sorry for her friend, but she could not think +of any other alternative, and spent the rest of her visit in assuring +Maman Remo that she was not half as ill as the doctor had said, and +that as soon as the operation was successfully accomplished, she would +certainly be quite as strong and well as usual. Maman Remo listened, +and was somewhat comforted. It was a great relief to have told her +trouble to a friend, and perhaps, after all, Madame Dupont, who had +brought a large family successfully through numerous illnesses, might +know more about such matters than a young doctor not yet thirty. + +"There is one favor that I must beg of you," she said, with a sudden +recollection, when Madame Dupont at last rose to go. "Do not say +anything to Celeste about this until Christmas is over. Some Americans +at the Hotel de Nice have invited her to a Christmas Tree, and the +child is looking forward to the day with so much pleasure. I cannot +have it spoiled for her." + +And Madame Dupont promised readily. + +When Maman Remo came upstairs, soon after her friend had left, Celeste +was lying very still, and appeared to be fast asleep, but when she had +undressed and crept into bed beside the motionless little figure, the +child stirred, and nestled close to her. + +"Did I wake you, my little one?" Maman Remo asked, anxiously. "I +thought you were sound asleep." + +"No, Maman, I am not asleep. It is so cold, and--and--may I lie in your +arms to-night, just as I used to do when I was little?" + +"Surely you may, my child, and I will keep you warm. Thank God, it will +be warmer again to-morrow; the cold does not last here as in Paris. +Now go to sleep, and when you wake in the morning it will be _Joyeuse +Noel_." + +"Yes, I know," said Celeste, softly, "and I must always be happy on +Christmas, on account of my name, Celeste Noel. Good-night, Maman." + +"Good-night, my little one." + +Maman Remo was asleep in a few minutes. She was very tired, and even +anxiety could not keep her awake, but for a long, long time Celeste lay +thinking. + +"Oh, dear God," she whispered at last, "please, please do find a way +to help us. I cannot think of one, and Maman Remo cannot either, and +we are both so very unhappy. But maman must not know until Christmas +is over, because it would make her so sad, and she wants me to have +_Joyeuse Noel_." + +And then the little blind girl fell asleep. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + +"My dear Maisie, you know I am quite willing to consent to anything in +reason. Indeed, I thoroughly approve of the Christmas Tree, and giving +the little blind girl a good time, but when it comes to taking the +child to the opera--I am really afraid I shall have to draw the line +somewhere." + +Mr. Barton set down his coffee cup, and regarded his little daughter +with an expression that was half amused and dismayed. It was Christmas +morning, and the Bartons were at breakfast in their sitting-room. + +"But, Papa," persisted Maisie, her brow beginning to pucker into an +unmistakable frown of perplexity, "you said I was to try to make this +Christmas just as merry for somebody else as my friends made mine +for me last year. Last Christmas was the very nicest I ever had, +because you gave me my pony, and I had so many other lovely surprises. +Surprises are the most interesting things about Christmas, and just +think what a wonderful surprise it would be to Celeste to really go +to the opera. She said she would give anything to hear that wonderful +tenor, and she is sure the opera must be the most beautiful place in +the world. Mamma said she would like to have me hear 'Mignon,' and +there's an afternoon performance of it to-day. It would be so lovely +to take Celeste to the opera on Christmas day, after the tree and +ice cream, and everything. I am sure it would be giving her the very +merriest Christmas a person could possibly have." + +"But, Maisie darling," Mrs. Barton urged gently, "the poor little girl +probably has no proper dress to wear to the opera. It might make her +uncomfortable to feel that she was dressed differently from every one +else." + +"She wouldn't know," said Maisie. "She couldn't see how the other +people were dressed, and of course nobody would tell her. Besides, +you always say it doesn't matter what people wear so long as they are +ladies and gentlemen at heart. I know Celeste is a lady at heart, even +if she does sing in the street, and go around in bare feet." + +Mrs. Barton looked a little troubled, but Auntie Belle burst into a +hearty laugh. + +"Seems to me, Alice," she said, "you had better give in. I believe +Maisie is right when she says the poor child is a lady at heart. Just +wait till you see her yourselves, and hear her sing. I don't know when +I have ever been as much interested in any one as I was in that little +blind girl. I'll tell you how we might arrange the matter. I know you +two want to go motoring this afternoon, so suppose you let me take the +kiddies to the opera. Françoise could go with us if you consider me too +young to act as a proper chaperone." + +Mr. Barton looked at his pretty sister and laughed. + +"I believe you are as crazy about the child as Maisie herself," he +said. "You are very kind to offer your services as chaperone, my dear, +but I think if any one is to go to the opera this afternoon, we had +better all go together. I rather like the idea of families keeping +together on Christmas. 'Mignon' is a charming little opera, and I dare +say we should all enjoy it. Besides, I confess I have considerable +curiosity to hear this young tenor that every one is talking about. I +advised Maisie to try to give somebody a merry Christmas, and now that +she has set her heart on doing it, I suppose I ought to be willing to +help her." + +Maisie clapped her hands, and springing from her seat, ran round the +breakfast table, to give her father a rapturous hug. + +"I do believe this is going to be a beautiful Christmas, after all," +she declared, "even if it isn't a bit like the ones at home." And +she glanced rather disgustedly at the great bowl of freshly gathered +roses the waiter had just brought in. "Now do let's hurry and finish +breakfast, so we can put the last things on the tree." + +Mrs. Barton still looked doubtful, but her husband and sister-in-law +had evidently made up their minds, and as soon as the family rose from +the table, Mr. Barton went away to see about securing seats for the +opera. + +It was a radiant morning. All the cold sharp wind of the previous night +had disappeared as if by magic, and the air was as soft and balmy as +June. But Maisie had little time to think of the weather that morning. +Besides the opening and admiring of all her own presents, of which +there were a goodly number, and the examining those of her family as +well, there were the last things to be tied on the tree. + +"It really does look very pretty," she remarked in a tone of +satisfaction, pausing to take a final survey of her work, at a few +minutes before eleven o'clock. "It looks a little queer without any +candles, but it isn't bad. I wish we could have had a bigger tree, but +then it couldn't have stood on the table, and Celeste couldn't have +felt of it all so easily." + +The tree--which was really very prettily decorated, in spite of the +lack of the usual candles--had been placed on the sitting-room table, +where the family took their meals. + +"I wonder what she'll say when she feels the statue," said Maisie, +skipping first on one foot and then on the other in her excitement. +"Oh, I do wish she'd hurry; it's so hard to wait." + +But Maisie did not have long to wait, for the clock had only just +finished striking eleven, when there was a tap at the door, and Celeste +appeared, led by a friendly waiter. + +The little blind girl was looking rather pale, and was also painfully +shy, this being the very first time within her remembrance, that she +had ever been invited to a party. But no one could be shy for long in +the presence of friendly Maisie, who flew to greet her visitor with as +much warmth as if they had been friends all their lives. + +"I'm so glad you are in time," she exclaimed joyfully. "I was afraid +you might be late, and we've got such a lot of surprises for you. Did +Maman Remo bring you? Why didn't she come up, too?" + +"She brought me, but she is waiting downstairs with Madame Strobel," +Celeste explained shyly. + +"Oh, she needn't wait, unless she wants to spend the day with Madame +Strobel, for you are going to stay with us a long time, and Françoise +will take you home. You would like to stay all day, wouldn't you?" + +"Yes, very much," said the little blind girl, whose shyness was rapidly +melting away beneath the warmth of her new friend's greeting. + +"That's all right then. Jean, please tell Madame Remo that she needn't +wait, and that we will send Celeste home this evening." + +The waiter departed smiling, for he, too, knew the story of little +Celeste Noel, and was glad the child was going to have a holiday. + +"These are my father and mother," Maisie went on, leading her visitor +forward. "They are very glad to meet you, because they have heard a +good deal about you from Auntie Belle and me. Auntie Belle will be here +in a minute; she has just gone to speak to somebody at the telephone." + +Mr. and Mrs. Barton received the little blind girl very kindly, and +Mrs. Barton noticed with secret satisfaction, that, though Celeste's +Sunday costume could scarcely have been called stylish, it was very +neat, and the child's face and hands fairly shone from a vigorous +application of soap and water. + +"Now take off your things," Maisie commanded, when the introductions +were over, "and then you must feel everything on the Christmas tree." + +"I can smell it already," said Celeste, sniffing the air delightedly, +"but may I really touch it? Won't I break something, or burn myself +with the candles?" + +"There aren't any candles," laughed Maisie, "and you can touch every +single thing on it, for they are all yours." + +The next half hour seemed to the little blind girl more like a bit out +of a fairy tale than anything she had ever experienced before in her +life. Mrs. Barton and Auntie Belle both had tears in their eyes, as +they watched her delight over every new object that the eager little +fingers touched, and even Mr. Barton found it necessary to blow his +nose several times before he finally left the room rather hurriedly. +When Celeste touched the statue, which Maisie had hung in the most +prominent position on the tree, she started back with a little cry of +astonishment. + +"It is the blessed Mother with the little Jesus in her arms!" she +exclaimed. "Oh, may I really take it in my hands again?" + +[Illustration: "Oh, may I really take it?"] + +"Of course you may," cried Maisie, who was almost beside herself with +delight and excitement. "Didn't I tell you everything on the tree was +yours? You can take the statue home with you, and keep it forever." + +That was almost too much for the little blind girl, and to Maisie's +horror, she suddenly burst into tears. + +"Oh, don't cry, please don't," cried Maisie, her brown eyes big with +dismay. "You'll spoil everything if you do, and we are having such a +good time." + +Thus urged, Celeste dried her tears, and smiled instead, but when, a +few moments later, Maisie was leading her round the table to examine +new wonders, she suddenly slipped an arm about her new friend's neck +and kissed her. + +"I think you must be something like the angels in Heaven," she said, +simply, at which astounding compliment Maisie felt herself blushing +scarlet. But when all the excitement of the tree was over, and Maisie +had taken her visitor to her own room, while Mrs. Barton and Auntie +Belle went away to dress for the afternoon, Celeste grew suddenly very +quiet. She still clasped the little statue to her heart, as if fearful +that it might melt away or vanish if she put it down, but all the +joy and brightness slowly faded out of her face, and a sad, anxious +expression took its place. + +Maisie watched her in growing anxiety, fearing she must be homesick. + +"The surprises aren't nearly over yet," she explained, when she had +finished showing Celeste her own presents, in which the little blind +girl had not appeared quite as much interested as she had expected. +"You haven't the least idea what is going to happen after luncheon." + +"I think perhaps I should go home soon," Celeste said, anxiously. +"Maman Remo is all alone." + +"Oh, but you can't go home till after the--I mean till quite late," +protested Maisie, feeling more certain than ever that her guest was +suffering from homesickness. "I am sure Maman Remo won't mind your +staying. She will love hearing all about everything afterwards. Mamma +always loves hearing about my good times when I come home." + +But Celeste still looked sad and unconvinced. + +"Your maman is different," she said. "She is a rich lady, and I don't +suppose rich ladies are ever lonely and unhappy." + +"Oh, yes they are," said Maisie, with conviction. "My grandma was very +unhappy for a long time after my grandpa died. I used to have to go and +see her almost every day, and bring her flowers, and she stayed in her +room with the shades all down, and cried. It was very uncomfortable +going to see her while she was like that, but mamma said I had to do +it. We were all so glad when she began to be cheerful again." + +"Maman Remo is never like that," said Celeste. "She is always cheerful, +and she would not have time to stay in her room and cry, but when she +is anxious and unhappy I can always hear it in her voice." + +"And is she anxious and unhappy now?" questioned Maisie. + +"Oh, yes, very; I do not think she was ever quite so anxious before, +even after Papa Remo was killed. She does not think I know, but I do." + +"Is it about Pierre--hasn't he come home yet?" + +"It is a little about that, but there is something else +besides--something much worse. We have heard from Pierre, and he is +well. A letter came to Maman Remo this morning, telling about him. It +was from a man she knows in St. Raphael. Pierre walked all the way to +St. Raphael, and this man--who is a sailor--met him in the street, and +took him to his house. Pierre was very hungry, and maman's friend was +sorry for him, and when Pierre had told how he had run away, and wanted +to go to sea, he promised to help him find a place on a ship. He knows +the captain of a ship that sails for Algiers this week, and he thinks +he can get Pierre a place on board as cabin-boy. He wrote maman all +about it, and he says he thinks letting Pierre go to sea will make a +man of him. Maman cannot read herself, but Antoine Dupont came in to +wish us _Joyeuse Noel_, and he read the letter to her." + +"Well, if she knows Pierre is all right, I don't see why she should be +so unhappy." + +"Ah, but I told you there was something much worse than about Pierre. +I only heard it last night, and maman must not know that I have found +out until to-morrow, because she wants me to have _Joyeuse Noel_, and +she would be still more sad if she knew that I was unhappy too." + +Celeste's lip quivered, and the tears started to her eyes, but she +winked them back resolutely, remembering what Maisie had said about +spoiling everything if she cried. The two children were sitting on +the sofa together, and Celeste's lap was filled with the trinkets her +friend had been showing her. With a sudden, kindly impulse, Maisie +slipped an arm round her little visitor's waist. + +"Would you mind telling me about it?" she said, in an unusually gentle +voice. "Perhaps we may be able to help you." + +"I am afraid you could not help us," said Celeste, sadly, "but you are +very kind, and I don't mind telling you. I heard Maman Remo talking to +Madame Dupont last night after I was in bed. They were downstairs, but +I could hear every word through the hole in the floor. Maman went to +see the doctor yesterday, and he says she must go to the hospital and +have an operation, and when she comes out again she will not be strong +enough to work for a long time." + +"One of my aunts had an operation," said Maisie, deeply interested. +"She was very ill, but she is all right again now, and I heard her tell +mamma she hadn't felt so strong in years." + +"The doctor says maman will be strong again in six months if she does +what he tells her to, but how can she live if she cannot work for six +months?" + +"Won't her relations help her? Everybody was very good to Aunt Nelly +when she had her operation, but she didn't need any money, because her +husband--my Uncle George--has a great deal." + +"Poor maman has no relations except Pierre, and he has gone away. +Madame Dupont said her friends would help her, but maman is very proud, +she does not like to take money from people. If I could only work for +her, but there is nothing I can do. I cannot even sing in the streets +any more now that Pierre is not here, and maman is so unhappy because +she is afraid she will have to send me to the orphan asylum." + +"Oh, that would be dreadful!" exclaimed Maisie, who had once been taken +to a fair at an orphan asylum at home, and remembered thinking it a +very dismal place, where all the little girls dressed just alike in +very ugly clothes. "Why can't she send you to that school in Paris +that you were telling us about?" + +"She would send me there if she could, but the journey costs so much, +and there would be no one to take me so far." + +This was a new idea, and for a moment Maisie was silent, being really +unable to think of any suggestion to make. But it was only for a +moment; then her usual hopefulness asserted itself once more. + +"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you," she said, reassuringly. +"Don't you remember what I told you the other day about not worrying +over things? Just as likely as not something nice will happen. Perhaps +Maman Remo won't have to go to the hospital, after all, or if she does, +perhaps somebody will just happen to be going to Paris, and will offer +to take you and buy your ticket. I don't believe it costs such a great +deal. We came from Paris on the night train, and slept in such funny +little staterooms, smaller than the ones on the steamers. Papa didn't +say anything about it's being so very expensive. You know you thought +the little statue was very expensive, but it really wasn't." + +"Ah, but you are so rich," said Celeste, with a sigh; "nothing seems +expensive to you." + +"Well, don't worry, anyway, at least not till Christmas is over. I do +want you to have a good time all day, and people can't have good times +when they are worrying." + +Celeste smiled faintly. She was really only two years older than +Maisie, but to her the little American seemed very young indeed. + +"I will try not to worry," she said, "and indeed you have given me a +beautiful Christmas." And she laid her hand lovingly upon the little +statue, which was lying beside her on the sofa. + +"That's right," said Maisie, much relieved. "Now, here comes Françoise +to get me ready for luncheon, and after luncheon we are going--you will +never guess where, and I shall not tell you, because I want it to be +the greatest surprise of all." + +Mr. and Mrs. Barton and Auntie Belle watched the little girl with a +good deal of interest during luncheon. + +Maman Remo was a very ignorant woman, who could neither read nor +write, but she had once lived as housemaid in a French family, and she +had never forgotten the things she had seen there. Celeste's mother +had been a lady, and it was only right and proper that her little +daughter should be taught to do things as ladies did them. Celeste's +table manners were as neat and dainty as those of Maisie herself, and +although rather shy and silent in the presence of these strange, grand +people, she was so sweet and gentle that before the meal was over, +she had won the hearty liking of the whole family. When the ice cream +appeared, and Celeste was helped to a bountiful supply, Maisie watched +her with deep interest. + +"Do you like it?" she demanded, as Celeste put the first spoonful into +her mouth, and her friend answered heartily, even shyness forgotten for +the moment-- + +"Oh, but it is delicious!" + +"I knew she wouldn't say that horrid thing about sausages and olives," +Maisie remarked triumphantly in English, to her aunt, at which remark +everybody laughed, and Celeste, who did not understand English, +blushed, and hoped she hadn't said anything wrong. + +It was necessary to hurry a little, as the afternoon performance at +the opera began at two o'clock, and Celeste had only just swallowed +her last spoonful of ice cream when they all rose from the table, and +Maisie took her away to put on her hat. Celeste wondered very much +as to where they could be going, but Maisie had said it was to be a +surprise, and she refrained from asking any questions. But when they +had all left the hotel, and she had been helped into Mr. Barton's big +limousine motor car, her curiosity became too great to be borne any +longer. + +"Are we going for a ride in this?" she whispered to Auntie Belle, +who sat next to her. She somehow felt more at ease with Maisie's +pleasant-voiced young aunt than with the other grown-ups. Auntie Belle +laughed. + +"You will know in a few moments where we are going," she said, and just +then the car started with a jerk, and Celeste, who had never been in a +motor car before in her life, could do nothing but hold on to the side +with all her might, and gasp for breath. + +"Don't you like it?" laughed Maisie. "Oh, you will get used to it in a +minute, and then you will think it great fun! I remember that I was a +little frightened at first." + +But before Celeste had had time to "get used to it," the car had +stopped again, and they were all getting out. There seemed to be a +great crowd of people, through which she was safely piloted, and then +she was in a seat, with Auntie Belle on one side of her and Maisie on +the other. + +"Now guess where we are," cried Maisie, delightedly; "can't you really +guess?" + +But Celeste was too much puzzled and bewildered to form any clear ideas +about anything. + +"We talked about this place the other day," Maisie went on, too much +excited to waste any more time in guessing. "You said Madame Dupont +came here sometimes, but Maman Remo couldn't afford it. Your brother, +Louis, liked it better than any other place in the world, and your +father--" + +"The opera!" gasped Celeste, with a sudden recollection. "Oh, +mademoiselle, is it really the opera?" + +"Of course it is," said Maisie, joyously. "Aren't you glad?" But to her +surprise, Celeste did not answer. She had grown rather pale, and there +were actually tears in her eyes. + +"Don't you like it, dear?" Auntie Belle asked, giving the little hand +beside her an encouraging pat. + +"Like it! Oh, but it is too wonderful! I never believed that I should +truly go to the opera." + +"Well, you are here, you see," said Maisie, much relieved by this +expression of feeling. She was beginning to fear her friend was not +as much pleased as she had expected her to be. "It's going to be a +beautiful opera, too. It's called 'Mignon,' and papa says the music is +lovely, and the best of all is, that tenor you wanted to hear so much +is going to sing." + +"Oh!" said Celeste, and that was all, but her radiant face was more +expressive than any words could have been. + +"Auntie Belle heard him the other night," Maisie chattered on. "Some +friends invited her, and she says he really has got a beautiful voice. +He's awfully handsome, too. Auntie Belle bought his photograph. O dear, +there's the orchestra beginning, and we can't talk any more!" + +If any one had doubted the fact that the little blind girl loved music +with her whole soul, it would have required only one glance at the +child's radiant face during the overture, to banish all such doubts +at once, and forever. The Bartons all watched her with keen interest, +as she sat leaning forward in her seat, with hands clasped, and lips +apart, drinking in the music as if it were her very life. Maisie gazed +at her new friend with eyes round with astonishment. Was it possible +that any human being could really love music like that? She thought +of how often she had grumbled at being obliged to go to concerts with +her mother, and what a bore she had found them. If only she and Celeste +could have changed places on those occasions. Auntie Belle, who loved +music almost as much as Celeste did, felt suddenly drawn to the little +stranger by a bond of sympathy. Mrs. Barton remembered her doubts of +the morning, and her kind heart smote her for having hesitated even for +a moment to give the child such a pleasure. + +When the curtain rose upon the gay scene of gypsies and villagers, +Maisie's attention wandered a little from Celeste's face to the stage +and for a few moments she almost forgot her friend in her interest in +the scene before her. Suddenly there was a slight rustle among the +audience as the sound of a rich, clear tenor voice was heard drawing +nearer; and as Wilhelm-Meister stepped out upon the stage, almost every +head was craned forward to catch the first glimpse of the popular young +singer. + +"He looks just like his picture, doesn't he?" Maisie whispered to her +aunt. "I think he's the handsomest--" + +Maisie paused abruptly, attracted by a slight sound from Celeste, and +turning to see what the matter was, she was rendered fairly speechless +with astonishment by the look on the little blind girl's face. Auntie +Belle also heard the half-suppressed cry, and she, too, turned to look +at Celeste. + +"What is the matter, dear?" she whispered anxiously, bending over the +child. "Don't you feel well?" + +"Oh, yes, thank you, but--but--pardon, Mademoiselle, but might I ask +you to tell me the gentleman's name?" + +"The gentleman," repeated Auntie Belle, looking puzzled; "what +gentleman? Oh, you mean Wilhelm-Meister. His name is Claude Lorraine. +Why, my poor child, what is it? You must be ill. You had better let my +brother take you out." + +"No, no," gasped Celeste, who was trembling from head to foot, and +whose face had grown ghastly white; "I do not want to go out. I want to +stay and hear him sing. Oh, mademoiselle, the good God has been very +kind to us!" + +Auntie Belle stared at the child in amazement; she had never been so +puzzled in her life, but into Maisie's eyes there flashed a sudden +light, and forgetting for the moment where she was, and all her +mother's cautions about not talking at the opera, she almost sprang +out of her seat, crying excitedly, "It's Louis, I know it is!" + +"Oh, Celeste, tell me, is it really Louis?" + +"Yes," said Celeste, in a breathless whisper. "I knew his voice the +moment I heard it, and Claude Lorraine was my papa's stage name; Louis +must have taken it too. Oh, Mademoiselle Maisie, Mademoiselle Maisie!" +and the poor little blind girl burst into tears. + +But by this time the little excitement was beginning to be noticed +by the audience, and indignant hisses were heard on all sides. Mr. +and Mrs. Barton turned to discover what had caused the disturbance, +and were not reassured by the sight of Celeste in tears, Auntie Belle +looking the picture of dismay, and Maisie jumping up and down in her +seat, and acting very much as though she had lost her senses. And +during all the commotion the clear tenor voice sang on, its owner +quite unconscious of the fact that his presence had caused any unusual +excitement. + +Strange to say, it was Celeste herself who was the first to recover. +She checked her sobs, with a mighty effort, and slipped one little +trembling hand into Auntie Belle's, and the other into Maisie's. + +"We must be very quiet," she whispered, "or the people will be angry. +Let us listen. I want to hear every note Louis sings." + +"What in the world is the matter?" Mr. Barton whispered to his sister, +and Auntie Belle replied that she did not know but believed the tenor +must be a friend or relative of Celeste's, and that she had recognized +him by his voice. + +During the rest of that act not one of the party had eyes or thoughts +to spare for anything that was going on the stage. The music and +singing were of the best, and the acting excellent, but the Bartons +looked only at Celeste. Maisie was the only one who knew what had +really happened, and she had been so frightened by those ominous +hisses, that she did not dare open her lips again, even to whisper +the wonderful news to Auntie Belle. But it was easy to see that the +little blind girl was very much excited, and that something unusual had +occurred. After the first few moments the child had ceased to tremble, +and by degrees a little color began to creep back into her face. She +sat, leaning forward in her seat, as if afraid to miss a single note, +and gradually her expression settled into a look of such radiant +happiness, that her kind new friends could do nothing but gaze at her, +in ever increasing astonishment. + +At last the curtain fell upon the first act, amid a thunder of +applause, and instantly Maisie's tongue was loosed. + +"It's her brother!" she cried, jumping out of her seat in her +excitement. "She hasn't seen him in four whole years. He went away to +seek his fortune, and she hadn't any idea what had become of him. She +was so afraid he might be poor, but I told her I was sure he would come +back rich, the way people always do in stories. Oh, isn't it the most +wonderful, interesting thing you ever heard of in all your lives? Don't +you want to go right off this minute and see him, Celeste?" + +But Celeste shook her head. + +"I would rather wait till the opera is over," she said. "If he saw me +before he might not be able to sing so well. I want to hear him sing +the whole opera before he knows I am here. After that if your papa will +be so kind--" + +But when Mr. Barton had at last been made to understand the wonderful +story, he did not look as much impressed by Celeste's good fortune as +Maisie and Auntie Belle expected he would. + +"You had better let me have a talk with the fellow first," he said in +English to Auntie Belle. "He has been singing here in Nice for weeks. +If he had really been anxious to find his little sister, it seems +incredible that he should not have found her before. I haven't as much +faith in these long-lost brothers as some of you have, and I don't want +that poor child's innocent little heart broken if I can help it." And +Mr. Barton glanced pityingly at Celeste's radiant face. + +Fortunately for Celeste, she could not understand one word of English, +and so was spared all the discussion which followed. She continued to +smile the smile of unutterable rapture, and sometimes her lips moved as +if she were saying her prayers. Auntie Belle and Maisie both felt lumps +in their throats whenever they looked at her, and Mrs. Barton was seen +to wipe her eyes more than once. + +"I feel just as if I were in heaven," Celeste whispered to Maisie, when +the curtain had risen on the second act, and the beautiful tenor voice +was heard again. Maisie dared not answer, for fear of those dreadful +hisses, but she slipped an arm around her friend, and hugged her, in a +burst of sympathy that said more than any words could have done. + +"Now, Celeste," said Mr. Barton in his kind, sensible voice, when the +opera was over, and they were making their way out through the crowd, +"we are going to take you back to the hotel. I have sent a line to your +brother, asking him to meet me there as soon as possible on a matter +of importance. It will be much pleasanter for you both to meet at the +hotel than in all this crowd and confusion." + +Celeste--who was trembling again so that she could scarcely stand--made +no objection, and allowed herself to be helped into the motor car, +without uttering a word. She spoke only once on the way home, and then +it was to ask in a timid voice, how soon Mr. Barton thought Louis would +come to the hotel, to which he replied that he was sure her brother +would come as soon as he could get away from the opera house. + +"Curiosity will bring him if nothing else does," he added in English, +but that Celeste did not understand. + +Arrived at the hotel, Maisie was told to take Celeste to her room, and +keep her there till she was sent for, and the elders waited in the +sitting-room, in a state of breathless anticipation. + +"I feel as if I were acting a part in a play," Auntie Belle said, with +a little hysterical giggle. "Oh, Harry, if that poor child is doomed to +a disappointment, I really don't know what I shall do! Did you ever +see such a look of rapture on any human face? But it is all right, I +know it is. No man with a voice like that could be anything but good." + +Auntie Belle paused abruptly, for at that moment there was a knock at +the door. The tenor had evidently been curious to learn the meaning +of Mr. Barton's mysterious summons, for he had followed them almost +immediately. + +He was a tall, handsome young fellow, with a frank, boyish face, and as +he came forward into the room, Mrs. Barton and Auntie Belle felt their +hopes rise instinctively. + +"Monsieur Lorraine, I believe," said Mr. Barton, courteously, as he +shook hands with the young man. "I trust you will pardon my sending for +you so unceremoniously. Allow me to present my wife and sister. We have +all been to the opera this afternoon, and have been charmed by your +singing." + +The tenor bowed deeply to the two ladies, and blushed boyishly at the +compliment. Indeed, he looked so young, and so honest and pleasant +as well, that Mr. Barton found himself addressing him in a much more +friendly tone than he would have believed possible five minutes +earlier. + +"I have sent for you to talk over a matter which interests us all +very much," he said, when they were seated, and Monsieur Lorraine had +somewhat recovered from his first embarrassment. "I said before that we +have been charmed with your singing. May I ask how long you have been +on the stage?" + +"I made my _début_ in Paris last autumn," said the young man, in a +pleasant, refined voice, that somehow reminded them all of Celeste's. + +"Indeed? Then I presume you have never been to America." + +"On the contrary," said the tenor, smiling, "I have spent over two +years in America. Indeed, it is to the kindness of an American +gentleman that I owe my present good fortune. I was singing at a +vaudeville theatre in Chicago about three years ago, and was about +as poor and discouraged as one could well be, when this gentleman--a +Mr. Richardson of New York, who had happened to drop into the place, +out of mere curiosity--became interested in my voice. He spoke to me +after the performance, gave me his card, and advised my coming to +New York and studying at the conservatory there. I followed his kind +advice, he became my friend and benefactor, and it is to him that I +owe everything. I have good reason to love America and the American +people." + +The young man spoke earnestly, and Mr. Barton felt his good opinion +rising. + +"You are a Frenchman, I know that by your accent," he said. "Is your +home in this part of the country?" + +"No, monsieur. I have never been in Nice before. My parents lived in +Paris, and my father sang at the Opera Comique for several years before +his death." + +"Are your parents both dead?" + +"Yes, monsieur." + +"You are young to be alone in the world--have you no near relatives?" + +A shadow crossed the young man's face. Auntie Belle's heart was beating +so fast that she was almost afraid the tenor would hear it. + +"I have one little sister," he said sadly. "She is still but a child, +many years younger than I." + +"Ah, I see, and is this little sister with you now?" + +"Alas, no, monsieur, but I would gladly give all I have in the world to +find her." + +Auntie Belle could not repress a little chuckle of delight, and she +gave her brother a triumphant glance, but Mr. Barton went quietly on +with his questioning. + +"What do you mean by that? Surely you must know where your little +sister is." + +"Ah, monsieur, it is a long story, and a very sad one. When our parents +died five years ago, we were very poor indeed. My father had been ill +a long time, and had left us nothing. I had my voice, and--pardon me, +monsieur, if what I say sounds conceited--I knew I could support myself +by singing if I could only get the chance. But there was my little +blind sister. She has been blind from birth, monsieur, and I could not +bear to leave her alone among strangers. Yet I could not take her with +me, perhaps to starve. We had been lodging with some kind people at the +time of our mother's death, and the woman had taken a great fancy to +little Celeste. She told me that if I would leave the child with her, +she would care for her, and be a mother to her until my return. She +was a very ignorant woman, who could neither read nor write, but her +husband was better educated, and they were both good, religious people. +They kept a little shop in Paris, and were comfortably off. It was very +hard to part from little Celeste, for we loved each other tenderly, and +my mother had left her in my care. Still, it seemed the only thing to +do, and I knew I was leaving her in good hands. + +"Things went very badly with me for the first year, and I was too +discouraged to write the husband of my ill luck, but as soon as I +began to earn a little money, I wrote at once, sending a small sum +towards my sister's support. I never received any answer, and although +I wrote again and again, not a word ever reached me in reply. As soon +as I came back to Paris this year, I went to the address where I had +left my little sister, but found that the family had moved away three +years ago, and no one in the neighborhood knew where they had gone. The +man, it seems, was run over and killed by a motor car, and his wife +left Paris soon afterward, taking the child with her. As she could not +write, she had not communicated with any of her friends, and not one +among them all could give me her address. + +"Since then I have done everything in my power to trace my little +sister, but so far without success. I feel sometimes as if I should go +mad with anxiety about the child, and the hardest of all is that now +when at last I am in a position to support her, and bring her up as my +mother would have wished, I cannot even find out what has become of +her. But pardon me, monsieur, for talking so much of my own affairs, in +which you cannot possibly be interested." + +"On the contrary," said Mr. Barton, kindly, "I am very much interested +indeed. To tell the truth, it was for the purpose of hearing just this +very story that I sent for you this afternoon. I have an idea that I +may be able to put you in the way of getting some information about +your little blind sister." + +"You, monsieur!" The young man had sprung out of his chair, and seized +Mr. Barton's hand before that gentleman had finished his sentence. "Oh, +monsieur, if this is true--if you can indeed assist me in my search for +poor little Celeste--I shall be grateful to you all my life." + +The tenor's honest, boyish face was full of feeling, and his voice +trembled. Auntie Belle--who was romantic--thought him the most +interesting person she had ever seen. Mr. Barton freed his hand gently +from the young man's eager clasp, and went to the door. + +"Maisie," he called cheerfully, "you may come now, and bring your +little friend with you." + +There was a hurrying of little feet, and Maisie rushed into the room, +fairly dragging the trembling Celeste after her. + +"Celeste, my little Celeste!" + +With one bound, the tenor was across the room, and had caught the +little blind girl in his arms. + +"And to think," sobbed Celeste, with her arms round her brother's neck, +"that the good God sent you back to us on Christmas day! Maman Remo +says I must always be happy on Christmas, because of my name. + +"I knew your voice the moment I heard it, but I did not want you to +see me till the opera was over. Oh, Louis, _cherie_, you sing like an +angel!" + +Maman Remo was sitting alone in her little house, waiting for Celeste +to come home. It had been dark for more than an hour, and she had +lighted the lamp, and built up a good fire in the stove, but she would +not make any preparations for supper until Celeste should come in. + +"Perhaps the little one will not be hungry," she said to herself. +"Those Americans are always feasting on holidays. Poor child, I hope +she has had a happy day. To-morrow she must know, for I dare not put +it off any longer. The doctor said I must go as soon as possible. She +will take it hard, poor child, but surely they will be kind to her at +the asylum, and if I am ever well and strong again, she can come back +to me, and things will be as they have been." + +Maman Remo heaved a deep sigh, and put up her hand to brush away a +tear. The day had been very long and lonely. + +Suddenly she turned her head and listened. Footsteps were approaching, +and voices. Yes, that was Celeste's voice, and how happy it sounded. +Surely the child had had _Joyeuse Noel_. The footsteps drew nearer, +some one opened the door, and two people came in. + +Maman Remo rose and courtesied. She did not recognize the tall young +gentleman, who was leading Celeste by the hand, but supposed him to be +one of the American family who had been so kind to the child all day. + +"Maman Remo, don't you know me?" + +"Louis, Louis Noel!" Maman Remo sank back into her chair, and turned so +white that for a moment Louis feared she was going to faint. "Oh, my +God, is it really Louis Noel?" + +"Yes, yes, Maman, it is really Louis, our own Louis, come back to us +safe and well," cried Celeste, flinging herself upon Maman Remo in a +perfect ecstasy of delight. "Oh, isn't it beautiful and wonderful that +he should have come on Christmas day? And, oh, Maman _cherie_, he is +not poor; he is rich, as Mademoiselle Maisie said he would be. I have +heard him sing at the opera, and truly he has the voice of an angel." + +Maman Remo's lips moved, but no sound came from them. Louis Noel came +quickly forward, and took the two trembling hands in his. His own eyes +were full of tears. + +"Maman Remo," he said, in a low, unsteady voice, "there are no words in +which to thank you. Celeste has told me everything, and I don't know +what to say. It is true, as the little one says, I am not poor. I am +doing good work with my voice, and have an engagement to sing at the +opera in New York next season. All I ask is that you will let me take +care of you and Celeste; not in payment for your care of the child, for +that is something that can never be repaid in this world, but because I +love and honor you beyond all other women except my mother." And Louis +Noel bent and kissed Maman Remo very tenderly. + +"Well, Maisie, and what sort of a Christmas has it been?" Mr. Barton +asked, smiling, as his little daughter was bidding him good-night. + +"Oh, Papa," cried Maisie, with sparkling eyes, "it has been the very +loveliest Christmas I have ever had. I do believe it's more interesting +to give other people a good time than to have it one's self. But +there's one funny thing about it." + +"And what is that?" her father asked, stooping to kiss the happy, eager +little face. + +"Why," said Maisie, laughing, "it's a very queer thing, but I never had +quite such a Merry Christmas before, even at home, with the Christmas +trees, and the parties, and all the presents. Oh, Papa dear, when I +think of that sweet Celeste's face when she went away with her brother, +and remember that if it hadn't been for your wanting me to try that +experiment, Louis might have gone away again without ever knowing she +was here, I feel so happy that I think I should like to hug everybody +in the world!" + + + + + JILL AND LILL + + + + + CHAPTER I + + +There were not many people in the great gallery that rainy December +afternoon. It was too early in the season for the crowd of English +and American tourists which in the late winter and early spring fill +Florence to overflowing, and the few people who sauntered about looking +at the pictures were for the most part native Florentines out for an +afternoon holiday. The men all wore their overcoats, and the women +kept their furs--if they were fortunate enough to possess any--wrapped +closely about them, but it was bitterly cold in the gallery, which is +only warmed by the bright Italian sun, and on cold, rainy days often +feels like a great stone vault. + +The twins were not so fortunate as to have any furs; neither were their +winter jackets as warm as they might have been if clothes had not been +so expensive, but they were accustomed to the cold galleries, and +although they both shivered more than once, it did not occur to either +of them to mention the fact. The twins were only eleven, but they knew +the great picture galleries of Florence much better than many older +people. Ever since they could remember, their mother had taken them +with her to the galleries, and they had wandered about looking at the +wonderful pictures, or played "sitting still games" in a corner, always +talking softly for fear of disturbing people who came to look, or, +like their mother, to copy the great masterpieces of the world. They +were very poor, for Mummy's pictures sold for a mere trifle at the +print shops, and they lived in three little rooms at the top of an old +building, the windows of which looked out upon the Duomo; the great +cathedral, which has been the pride of Florence for centuries. Once, +long ago, when their father was alive, they had lived in Rome, and +their father had painted pictures which sold for much more money than +poor little Mummy's pictures did; but after her husband's death Mummy +had brought the children to Florence, because living there was cheaper +than in Rome. The twins themselves did not particularly mind being +poor, and if it had not been for Mummy's anxious face, and the fears +they sometimes heard her express about the future, they would have been +quite happy and contented. As for education, clothes, and all those +other tiresome things, which seemed to trouble Mummy so much, they were +matters of the most supreme indifference to the twins. They were quite +happy in their three little rooms, where Mummy did the cooking on a +tiny stove, and which were so cold in winter, that they often went to +bed right after supper, for the purpose of keeping warm, and so hot on +summer nights that they sometimes carried their beds out on the roof, +in the faint hope of catching a little breeze from the river half a +mile away. + +Twins are supposed to resemble each other so closely that sometimes +their own families cannot tell them apart, but this was not the case +with Jill and Lill, for Jill was fully half a head taller than Lill, +and looked at least two years older. Lill was a small, fair child, with +a delicate, refined little face, and big innocent eyes, that had an +odd appealing look in them. She had been a delicate baby, and even now +was far from strong, while Jill had never had an ailment in her life, +and was as plump and rosy as if she had been fed on new-laid eggs and +country cream ever since she was born. They had never been separated +for a day in their lives, and if Jill's love for her twin sister had a +touch of motherliness in it, and Lill looked up to Jill with a kind of +adoring admiration, their affection was none the less strong for that. + +When the twins were born, their father, who was an artist, and somewhat +romantic, had declared their names must sound alike. + +"One is to be Lilian for your mother," he said, "but it would never do +to call the other Jane, for my little sister who died. Who ever heard +of twins being Lilian and Jane? They wouldn't harmonize at all." + +"We might call little Janie, Jill," suggested Mummy, who had an +imagination. "I remember once reading a book called 'Jack and Jill,' +and Jill's real name was Jane." + +"That will do," said Mr. Dinsmore, laughing. "Jill and Lill, nothing +could be better." + +So Jill and Lill, the twins had been called ever since. + +To most little American and English girls, the life they led would have +seemed very dull and forlorn indeed, but Jill and Lill had never known +any other. They were not yet six when their kind, merry young father +had died of the cruel Roman fever, which so often attacks imprudent +foreigners in the hot Italian summer, and they had come to live in the +tiny apartment in Florence, where good Signor and Signora Paloni--the +landlord and his wife--had taken the two little Americans into their +kind, elderly hearts, and petted and made much of them ever since. +Poor little Mummy had been quite heart-broken at the death of her +husband, whom she had loved very dearly, but the children's lives must +not be saddened; and so, being a brave little woman, she assumed a +cheerfulness she was very far from feeling, and it was only seldom that +Jill and Lill saw the tired, wistful look in her eyes, that they had +learned to know meant Mummy was discouraged. + +On several mornings of each week, summer and winter, Mummy went to one +of the great galleries, for which Florence is famous, and there she sat +for hours, making her poor little copies of the great pictures. She did +not like to leave the children alone all day, so she generally brought +them with her, and on fine days they would take their lunch--consisting +of a roll and a cake of chocolate apiece--out into the gardens, where +the fountains played and the birds sang in summer, and which were the +twins' only idea of what the country was like. Lately Mummy had been +fortunate in obtaining some drawing pupils in a large boarding-school +kept by an English woman, and three afternoons in the week she spent +teaching little English and French girls how to draw. + +But on this stormy December day there had been no going into the +gardens for lunch. They had eaten their rolls and chocolate on a bench +in the gallery, and Mummy had been in a hurry, because she was anxious +to finish her picture before leaving, and this was one of the drawing +class days. It was not very cheerful spending a whole long day in a +place where nobody ever spoke much above a whisper, and although the +twins knew and loved many of the beautiful pictures, they had looked +at them all so often that there had long ago ceased to be any novelty +about it. So after lunch they had retired to a recess by one of the +windows, and tried to pass the time by counting the raindrops. + +"It's very cold," said Lill, with a little shiver. "I wish there wasn't +any cold weather, don't you?" + +"I like summer best," Jill admitted, "but then I suppose we should get +tired of it if we had it all the time." Jill was noted for a way she +had of always making the best of things, and looking on the bright +side--a quality she inherited from her brave, cheerful little mother. + +"I shouldn't mind winter so much if we had snow here the way they do +in America," Lill went on. "I should love sleighing, and skating, and +all the nice things Mummy tells about. I wonder if we shall ever go to +America." + +"Oh, I am sure we shall some day, when Mummy has made a great deal of +money." + +Lill sighed. + +"I'm afraid that won't be for a long time," she said, "unless people +pay her much more for her pictures than they do now. Do you think she +would like to go?" + +"I don't know," said Jill, thoughtfully; "perhaps it would make her +sad. I don't think she likes to talk very much about America." + +"I wonder why," said Lill. "I should think people would love talking +about the places where they used to live, shouldn't you?" + +"Yes, unless sad things happened to them there. I think a good many sad +things must have happened to Mummy in America. You see, her father and +mother both died there, and Uncle George was so angry when she wanted +to go away and study art, instead of coming out in society the way all +the other girls he knew did. I wonder what 'coming out in society' +means." + +"I don't know," said Lill, "but I'm glad Mummy didn't do it, for if she +had she wouldn't have married father." + +"She might have married somebody else, though," said Jill, practically, +"and then perhaps Uncle George wouldn't have been so angry." + +"I hate Uncle George," remarked Lill, in a tone of decision. + +"Mummy says it's wicked to hate people, and perhaps he couldn't help +being the way he was. Signor says some people are born disagreeable; +perhaps Uncle George was one of them." + +"I don't believe he was," said Lill; "or Mummy wouldn't have loved +him so much. You know she said she loved him better than any one in +the world till she met father, and then of course she loved father +best, because she married him, and you always love the person you +marry better than anybody else. I don't believe Uncle George was born +disagreeable, I believe he was just wicked, and I hate him." + +Jill was silent. She had learned from long experience, that there was +never any use in arguing with her sister, for when Lill had once made +up her mind firmly on a subject, gentle and babyish as she looked, Lill +was capable of an amount of obstinacy that was quite a revelation to +her friends. There was a moment's silence, and then Lill went on. + +"It always makes me hot inside when I think about Uncle George and how +cruel he was to Mummy. Just think of his telling her he would never +see her again if she married father, and sending back all her letters +without reading them. Even when father was ill, and she wrote begging +him to send her a little money, he never answered her. I think if I +ever saw him I should--I should feel like doing something awful to him." + +"I wouldn't think about him at all if it makes you feel like that," +said Jill, with a rather troubled glance at her sister's flushed cheeks +and flashing eyes. "I know Mummy would hate to have you say such +things. She never told us about what Uncle George did, and we wouldn't +have known anything about it if we hadn't met that Mrs. Trevor, who +used to know her in America, and heard her telling that other lady +about it. I don't suppose she would have said all those things if she +had known we were sitting on the bench right behind her. She only knew +about that letter Mummy wrote when father was ill, because she happened +to be in Rome at the same time. It isn't likely we shall ever see +Uncle George. Even Mummy has never seen him since she was married, and +she never tells us anything about him that isn't nice and kind." + +"I can't forget what that lady said, though," said Lill, obstinately. +"I keep thinking about it all the time, and it makes me so angry. Mummy +is so dear, and sweet, and precious; I don't believe she was ever +unkind to any one in her life. Oh, I wish I could meet Uncle George +sometime; just to let him see how I hate him!" + +"Don't let's talk any more about him," said Jill, soothingly. "Let's +talk about Christmas. Don't you wonder what Mummy's going to give us?" + +"I think I know, but I won't tell," said Lill, her face brightening. +"Oh, I do wish we had money enough to buy her a really beautiful +present, but we've only got three francs between us, and one can't buy +much with that!" + +"We can buy something, though," said cheerful Jill, "and Mummy's sure +to love it, whatever it is. She always says it isn't the money we spend +for a thing that counts, it's just the thought. Signora says she will +take us shopping some day before Christmas." + +"I know it's the thought that counts," said Lill, "but I wish we could +buy Mummy a nice present just the same. Wouldn't it be beautiful to be +rich, and to have a real Christmas tree, the kind they have in America? +Think of the parties Mummy used to have when she was a little girl, and +all the beautiful presents. O dear, how cold it is here! My feet are +almost frozen." + +"Let's pretend," suggested Jill, with a sudden inspiration. "We always +forget the disagreeable things when we pretend." + +Lill agreed, and the twins turned away from the contemplation of the +raindrops, and settled themselves on a bench, directly opposite one of +Raphael's beautiful Madonnas. + +"What shall we be to-day?" inquired Lill. Lill had less imagination +than Jill, and generally left the selection and planning of their games +to her more enterprising sister. + +Jill thought for a moment; then she said: + +"Let's pretend we are the two little princes in the Tower of London. +I'm sure they must often have been cold, so our being cold, too, will +make it seem more real. Pretend it's a cold, dark night, and we haven't +had any supper. We are afraid every one has forgotten us, and we won't +have anything to eat till morning. Then when we remember that it's +really day-time, and that we've just had lunch, we shall feel so nice +and comfy inside." + +"All right," agreed Lill; "let's begin." + +Instantly Jill's whole manner changed. She was no longer the little +Twentieth Century American girl, sitting on a bench in the Florence +picture gallery, but the little English prince shut up by a cruel uncle +in the old tower, patiently awaiting the terrible fate, which has made +the two little princes famous in history. + +"How dark and cold it is, brother," she began in a low tremulous voice. +"I fear our cruel captors have forgotten to bring us any supper, and we +shall have to stay here alone in the darkness till the morning." + +"Without any food," chimed in Lill, nestling a little closer to her +sister. When Lill "pretended" it always seemed very real to her, and +for the moment she almost fancied herself really the character she was +personating. "And if we have to stay alone in the cold and dark all +night, the rats will come, and that will be frightful. Oh, brother, I +am afraid--I am afraid!" + +"Courage," urged Jill. "Rats cannot hurt us. It is men we have to fear. +If our cruel uncle succeeds in carrying out his wicked plan, we shall +never see our dear home or our dear mother again. You know it is his +intention to have us smothered, and our bodies thrown into the river. +We have too many real dangers to fear to think of little things like +rats." + +"Don't talk about smothering," said Lill, relapsing into her natural +voice. "I hate that part of the story; it scares me. I wish they could +have been rescued just at the last minute, the way people generally are +in stories." + +"But this isn't a story, it's English history," protested Jill. "You +can't make things in history end happily, because they're true." + +"Don't true things ever end happily?" Lill inquired anxiously. + +"I suppose they do, sometimes, but the little princes didn't. I wish we +could go to London sometime, and see the Tower, and Westminster Abbey, +and all the other interesting places." + +"What a dreadfully wicked man the little princes' uncle must have +been," remarked Lill. "I wonder if most uncles are wicked. I don't +think I like uncles, anyway." + +"Hush," said Jill, in a warning whisper, and she glanced apprehensively +at a gentleman who had paused just in front of them to look at the +Raphael. He was a tall gentleman, evidently a tourist, and he was +dressed in black with a black band on his hat. How long he had been +there the twins did not know, having been too much absorbed in their +own affairs to notice, but as Lill pronounced her opinion of uncles, +he had suddenly turned from the great picture, and was regarding them +rather curiously. + +"You mustn't talk so loud," whispered Jill. "I'm afraid we disturbed +that gentleman. You know Mummy never lets us disturb people when they +are looking at the pictures." + +"I don't believe he heard what I said," began Lill. Then she paused +abruptly, and grew crimson, as the gentleman quietly took the vacant +place on the bench by her side. + +"You must excuse me for interrupting you, young ladies," he said in +a rather pleasant voice, "but I couldn't help overhearing a little +of your conversation, and it has interested me very much. At first I +feared from your tones that you were really in trouble of some kind, +but I soon found that I was mistaken." + +He smiled, and his smile was pleasant, too, though it was sad. His +whole expression was sad, and although he was not at all old, there was +something in his face that made the twins feel unaccountably sorry for +him. + +"We were pretending to be the two little princes in the Tower of +London," said Jill, feeling that she must offer some explanation; "you +know the ones whose cruel uncle had them smothered and thrown into the +river." + +"Yes, I have heard of them. You seem to have formed a rather poor +opinion of uncles in general. May I ask if you often pretend in quite +such a realistic fashion?" + +"We like to pretend," said Jill, blushing. "It's one of the few things +we can do without making a noise, and of course we can't play noisy +games in the galleries." + +"And why do you choose the galleries for a play-ground? I should think +you might find them uncomfortably cold sometimes." + +"We don't mind the cold much," said Jill, "we are used to it, you see. +We come to the galleries almost every day, because our mother doesn't +like to leave us at home alone all day long." + +"And may I ask what your mother does in the galleries?" the gentleman +inquired, in a tone of evident interest. + +[Illustration: "AND MAY I ASK WHAT YOUR MOTHER DOES IN THE +GALLERIES?"] + +"She copies the pictures," said Jill, and Lill, forgetting her shyness +at the mention of her adored mother, added proudly-- + +"Mummy's very clever. She gives drawing lessons at one of the big +schools as well as copying the pictures. Our father painted beautiful +pictures, too." + +The expression of interest on the stranger's face deepened, and he +regarded Lill more attentively. Indeed, he had been looking at Lill all +the time Jill was talking. + +"Indeed!" he said, and there was a note of real eagerness in his +voice. "Now, I wonder if I have ever happened to hear of your father's +pictures. Would you mind telling me his name?" + +"It was Robert Dinsmore," said Lill, "but he died a long time ago when +we lived in Rome." + +The gentleman was silent for a moment, and Jill noticed with surprise, +that he had grown rather pale, and that the hand resting idly on his +knee trembled slightly; but when he spoke again his voice was quite +calm. + +"No, I don't think I have ever seen any of your father's pictures," +he said, "but then I am an American, and this is my first visit to +Florence." + +"We are Americans, too," said Jill eagerly. "We have never been to +America, because our father and mother came to live in Italy before +we were born, but we hope we shall go some day; Mummy has told us so +much about it." + +"And you live here in Florence, I suppose, and your mother sells her +copies of the pictures?" + +"Oh, yes, that's what she paints them for, but people don't pay very +much for them, and so she was very glad to have the drawing class at +the English school." + +The gentleman rose abruptly. + +"Well, perhaps I may want to buy some copies to take back to America +with me," he said, "so suppose you give me your mother's address, in +case I should take a fancy to look at some of hers." + +"She sells hers at the shops," Jill explained, "but she has some at +home that the shop people wouldn't take. Perhaps you might like to look +at them. We live on the Lungarno Acciasill, at Signor Paloni's. Our +apartment is on the top floor." + +"Thank you," said the gentleman; "I will remember the address. And your +name is Dinsmore, you say?" + +"Yes, sir, I am Jane Dinsmore, though every one calls me Jill, and my +sister's name is Lilian." + +"Lilian," repeated the stranger, and an oddly softened look came into +his face. "So they called one of you Lilian." + +"I am named for my grandmother," Lill explained. "People always call me +Lill, because it rhymes with Jill, and we are twins, but I think Lilian +is much prettier." + +"So do I," said the gentleman, and he smiled his sad smile again. "I +had a little Lilian of my own once, and I am very fond of the name. Is +your mother here to-day?" + +"Yes," said Jill; "she is copying the _Madonna delta Duca_. Would you +like to see her, and ask about the pictures at home?" + +"No, no, I don't care to see her. I merely asked out of curiosity. I +must be hurrying along now. Good-bye." + +"What a nice gentleman!" remarked Jill, as soon as their new +acquaintance was out of ear-shot. "I'm afraid he won't come to look at +Mummy's pictures, though; he didn't seem much interested." + +"I think he was interested," said Lill. "He had such a queer look in +his eyes all the time he was talking to us, and wasn't it funny he +should have had a little girl named Lilian?" + +"I suppose there must be a good many Lilians in the world," returned +practical Jill. "I think his little girl is dead, for he looked so sad +when he spoke of her, and did you notice the black band on his hat?" + +At that moment the twins caught sight of a little woman in a gray dress +coming towards them, and instantly the stranger and his affairs were +forgotten, as they sprang to their feet and hurried to meet Mummy. +Mummy was a very little woman indeed. She was not much taller than +Lill, and Jill quite towered over her when they walked in the street +together. She looked very young to be the mother of two such big girls, +and there was an innocent, almost childlike expression in the blue eyes +that were so like Lill's, that all the sorrow and anxiety of years had +failed to banish. Mummy had fought her way through more than one fierce +battle with fate, but she still kept her simple faith, and believed +that people meant to be kind, and that the world was, after all, a +very good place. There was only one person the thought of whom could +banish the look of sweet serenity from her face, and that was her only +brother, to whom she had been devotedly attached, and whose unkind +treatment had been the one cup of bitterness in her life. + +"You are through early to-day," said Jill, as she and Lill each +slipped an arm lovingly round Mummy's waist. + +"A little early, but it was so cold I was afraid to keep you here any +longer." + +"We didn't mind it much," said Jill. "We pretended we were the little +princes in the Tower, and being cold made it seem more real, because +they must often have been very cold, you know." + +Mummy laughed in spite of herself. + +"There is nothing like looking on the bright side of things, is there?" +she said. "I am glad you enjoyed playing you were the little princes in +the Tower, but I can't help wishing you had warmer jackets." + +"Lill," whispered Jill, as they dropped behind Mummy for a moment going +out of the gallery, "don't say anything about the gentleman." + +"Why not?" inquired Lill, in surprise. + +"Because perhaps he won't ever come to see the pictures, and if Mummy +thinks he's coming, and he doesn't, she'll be so disappointed." + + + + + CHAPTER II + + +"There, everything is ready, and when Mummy comes in there won't be +a single thing for her to do but sit down and drink her tea, and get +warm." + +Jill spoke in a tone of satisfaction, and as she did so she glanced +about the cosy little room, with an air of pardonable pride. It was a +rather shabbily furnished little room, and everything in it was of the +cheapest and plainest, but it was as neat as hands could make it, and +the lamp burning on the table, and the tea-kettle humming on the stove, +gave an air of comfort and cheerfulness to the humble surroundings, +that Jill's home-loving little soul was quick to feel. + +"I'm afraid she'll be dreadfully wet," said Lill, anxiously. "Just +listen to the rain!" + +"Yes, it's a horrid night, but it's nice and warm in here, and when +Mummy gets her wet things off, and drinks her tea, I know she'll love +it. Isn't it nice we've learned to make the tea and toast, so we can +have them all ready when she comes in?" + +"I should like to learn to cook," said Lill. "It would be such fun to +cook the whole dinner some day, and have it waiting for Mummy. Wouldn't +she be surprised?" + +"It would be splendid if we could really do it well," agreed the more +cautious Jill. "The trouble is, we might spoil things at first and +that would be such a dreadful waste when everything costs so much. I +shouldn't like to feel I had wasted food, should you?" + +"No, but I don't believe we should if we got Signora to teach us. I +know she would if we asked her. She likes cooking, and is so economical +that I'm sure she would never let us waste anything." + +"All right, let's ask her. We'll tell Mummy we want to stay at home +some day, and get Signora to give us a cooking lesson." + +At that moment there was a tap at the door, and in answer to Jill's +bidding to enter, Signora Paloni herself appeared. She was a +rosy-cheeked little woman, with very bright eyes, and a pleasant smile, +and there was no one in the world, with the exception of their mother, +whom the twins loved so much. + +"_Buon giorno, Signora_, we were just talking about you," said Lill, in +her pretty, fluent Italian. Signora Paloni spoke no English, but the +twins talked Italian as well as their own language, if not better. "We +want to know if you will teach us how to cook a real dinner, so we can +surprise Mummy some day?" + +"Of a certainty I will," said the landlady, beaming with pleasure. "It +is a kind thought to wish to save the dear mother trouble. I came up to +see if the tea was ready, for it is a terrible night, and the poor lady +will be so wet." + +"It's all ready," said Jill, proudly, "and the bread is cut, so Lill +can make the toast the minute Mummy comes in. She is late to-night." + +"She will come soon," said Signora Paloni, cheerfully, "and in the +meantime I have news for you. Guess what good fortune has just befallen +us." + +"Oh, Signora, what is it? Please tell us," cried both twins at once. + +"We have rented our first-floor apartment at last--the apartment that +has been empty for so long." + +"Who has taken it?" inquired Jill, with interest. Signora Paloni's +first-floor apartment was, in the eyes of the twins at least, a very +grand place indeed. + +"A countryman of yours; a gentleman from America. He intends spending +some time in Florence, he tells us, and he does not care for the +hotels. My husband asked him how he had heard of us, and he said the +house had been recommended to him. He speaks very little Italian, but +he made us understand. I am to prepare his morning coffee, and for his +other meals he will go to the restaurants. We are wondering what kind +friend has done us this good turn." + +"And will he give you your price?" inquired Jill, who seldom forgot +business details. + +"Yes, and what is more, he has paid us a month's rent in advance. He +seemed to fear we might not trust him, as he is a stranger to us, but +we should not have feared; he has a good face." + +"When is he coming?" Lill wanted to know. + +"He will take possession to-morrow, and as he is not quite satisfied +with the furniture, he has asked if he may bring in a few extra things." + +"But the furniture is beautiful!" cried Jill, indignantly. "How could +any one want better?" + +"Ah, my little one," said the landlady, smiling, "you have never +visited the houses of the rich. My little apartment is neat and +comfortable, and in it are many relics of our family, which are to my +husband and me very precious, but to a rich American gentleman it must +seem but a poor place." + +"What is the gentleman's name?" asked Lill. + +"Mr. George H. Brown," said Signora Paloni, pronouncing the name very +slowly and distinctly, and making it sound as if it were "Misterre +Georga Ash Broon." + +"That's not a very pretty name," said Jill, and her interest in the +stranger flagged. "Now, Signora, about those cooking lessons?" + +Signora Paloni was quite ready to talk about the lessons, and entered +heartily into the children's scheme. They were deep in the discussion +of ways and means when Mummy arrived, cold, wet, but cheerful as usual. +Then the landlady had to tell her news all over again, and Mummy +listened and sympathized while she dried her skirts, and sipped the cup +of hot tea the twins had prepared for her. But though always kind and +sympathetic, the twins noticed that their mother did not seem quite +as attentive as she usually was to Signora Paloni's long stories, and +when the landlady was leaving the room at last, Mummy suddenly roused +herself from a fit of abstraction to ask-- + +"May I have a little talk with you in your room this evening, Signora? +I want to consult you about something." + +It was Mummy's custom to teach the twins for an hour or two every +evening, and, on the whole, they rather enjoyed the lessons. Mummy +was a good teacher, and had a way of making history and geography +interesting, although she was often very tired after her hard day's +work, and would much have preferred going to bed to teaching little +girls. She was a conscientious little woman, and seldom allowed +inclination to interfere with duty, so it was a great surprise to the +children on this particular evening, when the frugal supper had been +eaten, and the dishes washed and cleared away, that Mummy, instead of +getting out the lesson books as usual, drew the arm-chair close to the +stove, and seated herself, as if for a comfortable chat. + +"I think we will take a holiday this evening," she said. "There is +something I want to talk to you about." + +"Oh, Mummy, how nice!" cried Lill, immediately perching herself on one +arm of her mother's chair, while Jill took possession of the other. +This had been one of their favorite positions ever since they had +grown too heavy to sit on Mummy's lap. + +"Is it something pleasant?" Jill asked, with a rather anxious glance +into Mummy's face. "Are you going to have more pupils?" + +"Not exactly, though it may lead to my having more pupils in the end," +said Mummy, smiling. "It is about an offer I have received, and that I +don't intend to accept until I have talked to my little girls about it." + +Jill slipped an arm affectionately round Mummy's neck. + +"Tell us all about it, Mummy dear," she said, softly. + +"I am going to tell you; that is why we are not having lessons this +evening. Miss Dexter--the English lady who is at the head of the school +where I teach--sent word that she wished to see me this afternoon after +the class. It seems, some of the older girls, who are not going home +for the Christmas vacation, are very anxious to take a little trip into +Sicily. Miss Dexter cannot very well go with them herself, and she is +trying to find some one whom she can send as a chaperon." + +"And she wants you to go--oh, Mummy, how delightful!" cried the twins, +and Lill added rapturously-- + +"I know you'll love it. You have always said you wished you could see +Sicily." + +"I should like to go very much, and I consider it a great honor that +Miss Dexter should consider me able to fill such an important position, +but there are several drawbacks. The principal one is that I should +have to be away at least two weeks, and that is a long time to leave my +little girls." + +The twins were silent. Never in their lives had their mother left +them for more than a night at a time, and the thought of a two-weeks' +separation was not pleasant. Jill was the first to speak; she had +always been the more unselfish of the two. + +"It would be hard to have you go, Mummy, but you would have such a good +time, and Signora would take care of us." + +"I know she would. Otherwise nothing would induce me to leave you. I +know, too, that you would both be good children, and not give her any +trouble, but there is something else. The girls want to start next +Friday, and that means that they will be away over Christmas." + +"Oh, Mummy, we can't be without you on Christmas!" cried Lill, in +dismay. "It would be dreadful." + +Jill gave her sister a warning glance. + +"We might wait and keep Christmas when Mummy came back," she suggested. +"Then she could tell us all about Sicily, and the interesting things +she saw there. It wouldn't be quite the same thing, of course, but it +would be better than not having any Christmas at all." + +"But it would be so queer not to hang up our stockings, and have Mummy +give us our presents the first thing Christmas morning," objected Lill. +"We've always had such good times on Christmas." + +"I know that," said Mummy, "and it was my chief reason for hesitating +about accepting Miss Dexter's offer. I have always tried to make your +Christmases as happy as possible, because I loved the day so much +myself when I was a little girl. I have told Miss Dexter I will give +her my answer to-morrow." + +There was a pause, during which nobody spoke for fully three minutes. +Both twins were looking very serious, and Lill's lip was trembling a +little. Again it was Jill who was the first to speak. + +"It will be very sad to have Christmas without you, Mummy," she said, +"but you will have such a good change, and you haven't had a change in +ever so long. If you are only away two weeks, you will be back in time +for New Year's, and we can hang up our stockings and do all the nice +things then, and pretend it's Christmas; can't we, Lill?" + +"Yes," said Lill in a very low voice, and she swallowed hard to keep +down the big lump in her throat. + +Mummy bent and kissed both grave little faces. + +"My own dear, brave little girlies," was all she said, but the twins +felt as happy as if she had given them each a present. + +The rest of that evening was rather forlorn. Mummy went downstairs, to +talk things over with Signora Paloni, and as soon as she had left the +room Lill broke down and indulged in a good, hearty cry. Jill also shed +a few tears, but with characteristic cheerfulness, soon dried her eyes, +and began to look on the bright side as usual. + +"Oh, just think of all the interesting things Mummy will have to tell +us when she comes home," she said. "It will be almost as good as going +to Sicily ourselves. Have you noticed how tired her eyes have looked +lately? She does work so hard, and the change will do her so much good." + +"I know it will," sobbed Lill, "and I don't want to be selfish, but +it's so dreadful to think of her being away on Christmas. We shall miss +her so. I don't really see how we are going to live without her for two +whole weeks." + +"Two weeks isn't such a very long time," said Jill, with a little catch +in her voice, "and Signora will be very good to us. Besides," she +added, brightening, "it will be such a good time to learn to cook while +Mummy's away." + +Lill took out her handkerchief, and dried her eyes. + +"We can do that, can't we?" she said, in a more hopeful tone, "and +won't Mummy be surprised when she comes home. Oh, Jill, don't let me be +selfish! I feel awfully like being, but I don't want to spoil Mummy's +good time." + +"We won't either of us be selfish," said Jill, slipping an arm lovingly +about her sister's waist. "We'll just make the best of it, and try to +let Mummy think we don't mind much." + +And they did try to make the best of it, but I doubt very much if Mummy +was deceived by appearances. She didn't say much, but when bedtime +came, she took them both in her arms at once, and hugged them. + +"You precious kiddies," she said. "You make Mummy's heart ache, but +she's prouder of you than if you had won all the prizes at Miss +Dexter's." And there were actually tears in her eyes, although she +tried to laugh. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + +It was Christmas afternoon, and the twins were alone in the tiny +apartment. It had been a very strange, dull Christmas, although every +one had been kind, and the Palonis had done their best to give the +little girls a good time. In the morning Signora Paloni had taken them +to the Christmas mass at the Duomo, and they had really enjoyed the +beautiful music, and the unfamiliar service. When Mummy was at home +they always attended the little American church, where the service +was very simple, a great contrast to the high mass at the cathedral. +Afterwards they had dined with their kind landlord and his wife, and +feasted on roast chicken stuffed with chestnuts, a delicacy very rare +in their simple lives, for meat costs money, and Mummy's means were +limited. And now it was late in the afternoon, and the Palonis had +gone out to spend the evening, leaving the twins in charge of Tessa, +the Italian maid-of-all-work, who had promised to give them their +supper, and see that they went to bed at their usual hour. They were +both feeling very forlorn and lonely. They missed their mother more +than they liked to talk about, and they had been obliged to "pretend" +very hard all the afternoon, in order to keep up even the faintest +semblance of cheerfulness. They had in turn personated most of their +favorite characters, including Queen Elizabeth, George Washington, and +Savonarola. They had heard a great deal about Savonarola through having +spent so much time in Florence. At last Jill proposed that they should +be the little Princes in the Tower. + +"We haven't played that since that afternoon in the gallery," she said. +"It was the day Mummy told us about going to Sicily, wasn't it?" + +"Yes," said Lill, with a sigh, "and do you remember the gentleman who +talked to us and asked where we lived? We thought he might buy some of +Mummy's pictures." + +"Well, you see he didn't," said Jill. "I didn't believe he really +would." + +"He had a kind face, though," said Lill, reflectively. "I wonder if he +would have done it if he had known how much Mummy needed the money. He +said he had a little girl named Lilian once. I wonder when she died, +and what was the matter with her." + +"That reminds me of something Tessa told me this morning," said Jill. +"You know the American gentleman, who has taken the first-floor +apartment, and who slipped on a piece of orange peel on the sidewalk, +and sprained his knee, the very day after he came here. Well, it's +dreadfully sad about him; his wife and little girl were both drowned +last summer." + +"How did Tessa know about it?" Lill inquired, with interest. + +"The gentleman told her. You see, after he had his accident he had to +have somebody to do things for him, so the doctor who attended to his +knee sent a man who can talk English, because Mr. Brown--that's the +gentleman's name--can't speak much Italian, and the man told Tessa all +about it." + +"It must be dreadfully sad for him to be all alone, especially on +Christmas," said Lill, sympathetically. "I'm afraid he's having a worse +Christmas than we are." + +"I'm sure he is," said Jill. "I wish we could do something for him, +don't you?" + +"Yes, but I don't see what we could possibly do. We don't even know +him." + +"I know we don't, but we might get acquainted. If Mummy were at home, +I'm almost sure she would get acquainted with him; she's always so +sorry for people who are unhappy." + +"Do you mean that we might go to see him?" inquired Lill, in growing +astonishment. + +"I don't think there would be any harm in our doing it, when he's +living right here in the same house with us. We wouldn't stay long, of +course, only just enough to wish him a Merry Christmas, and we might +take him a little present." + +"But perhaps he doesn't want people to come to see him. He might think +we were very queer to do such a thing," objected Lill, who was more +shy, and less quick to make friends than her sister. + +"I don't see how he could possibly think it queer. He's an American +just the same as we are, and in America Mummy says people always wish +each other a Merry Christmas. Besides, if we saw he didn't like our +coming, we could go right away again. I think it would be a kind, +neighborly thing to do." + +"What sort of a present could we take him if we went?" questioned Lill, +glancing about the shabby little room, as if in the faint hope of +finding some inspiration from the furniture. + +"We might take him one of those nice oranges Signor gave us, and a +piece of Signora's cake," suggested Jill, referring to the only two +Christmas presents which had come to the twins on that day. + +The suggestion met with Lill's approval, and after a little more +discussion the matter was settled. Ten minutes later the twins were on +their way downstairs, Jill carrying a plate, on which was a large slice +of Signora Paloni's frosted cake, and Lill proudly bearing two oranges. + +"We had better take two," she had declared. "There's nothing so good +as fruit to eat when you don't feel well, and if his knee hurts him a +great deal he may be feverish." + +"It does seem very queer to go to see somebody you don't know at all," +Lill said, hesitating, when they had reached the last landing, and were +standing outside Mr. Brown's door. + +"We wouldn't do it on any other day but Christmas," said Jill, +resolutely, and without giving her sister time for any further +hesitation, she lifted her hand and knocked. + +There was a moment's silence; then some one called "Come in" in +English; Jill turned the handle, and next moment the twins found +themselves in a comfortably furnished sitting-room, with a wood fire +crackling on the hearth. + +In an arm-chair, drawn up before the fire, sat the owner of the +apartment, one leg supported on a stool. His back was towards the door, +but at the entrance of the children, he turned his head, and at sight +of his face both twins uttered an involuntary exclamation of surprise. + +"Why, it's the gentleman who talked to us in the gallery!" cried Jill. + +"We didn't know you were Mr. Brown," added Jill, almost dropping the +oranges in her surprise. + +The gentleman smiled. + +"No, I don't suppose you did," he said. "I haven't seen many people +since I came here. I met with an unfortunate accident a few days ago." + +"Yes, we heard about it," said Lill, sympathetically. "I suppose that's +why you didn't--" + +She paused abruptly, admonished by a warning nudge from Jill. + +"Didn't what?" the gentleman asked. His eyes were fixed earnestly on +Lill, and there was the same softened look in them that the twins had +noticed when he told them that he had once had a little Lilian of his +own. + +Lill blushed scarlet, and her eyes drooped. + +"I was going to say something," she explained, "but perhaps it wouldn't +be polite." + +"Say it. I am not a very polite person myself, so I shall not mind +whether it is or not." + +"Well," said Lill, slowly, "it wasn't anything important, only you +know you asked where we lived, and we told you about Mummy's pictures. +We thought perhaps you would come to look at them, but of course you +couldn't on account of your knee." + +"That's true; I couldn't, even if I had intended to. This confounded +knee has upset a good many of my plans. But suppose you come in and +shut the door; it's rather chilly." + +Lill complied with this request, and Jill hastened to explain the cause +of their visit. + +"We didn't come to stay," she said, carefully depositing her plate on +the table. "We only stopped to wish you a Merry Christmas, and to bring +you some cake and oranges. We thought you might like them." + +"I do like them very much indeed," said Mr. Brown, and it was wonderful +how kind and pleasant his face became all at once. "It was kind of you +to remember a solitary prisoner. Won't you both sit down?" + +The twins promptly seated themselves on the sofa, which was directly +opposite Mr. Brown's arm-chair. They were beginning to enjoy the little +adventure. + +"You see we knew you were an American, just like us," said Lill, "Mummy +says in America people always wish each other a Merry Christmas." + +"Your mother is away, is she not?" + +"Yes, she has gone to Sicily with some young ladies from the school +where she gives drawing lessons. It's the first time she has ever left +us, and it was dreadful to have her go, but she's having a lovely time." + +"We had a letter from her this morning," chimed in Jill, giving the +pocket which contained the precious letter an affectionate pat. "She +sent it so we would surely get it on Christmas, and she told us so many +interesting, wonderful things. She was in Palermo when she wrote, but +she was going to Messina. Perhaps you would like to hear the letter; +it's so very interesting." + +"I should be very glad to hear it," said Mr. Brown, and his voice +actually sounded almost eager. + +Jill was delighted, and promptly produced the letter, which she already +knew almost by heart. + +"I'll begin and read the first half, and Lill can finish it," she said, +magnanimously. "We both like to read it so much." + +"I see," said Mr. Brown, and he smiled again, in what Lill afterwards +pronounced, "such a nice, understanding way." + +So Jill began the letter, in a sweet, clear voice, and when she had +read the first half, she handed it to Lill, who read the rest, with +equal pride and satisfaction. Mr. Brown made no comments, but the twins +felt sure he was listening, and as they went on, his face grew very sad +and tender, and at last he turned it partly away from the light, and +shaded his eyes with his hand. + +"Isn't it the most interesting letter you ever heard?" demanded Lill, +proudly, when she had finished the last sentence, and was replacing the +precious document in the envelope. + +"It is a charming letter," said Mr. Brown, heartily. "You are very fond +of your mother, are you not?" + +"Fond of her!" cried Lill. "I should think we were; we just adore her. +There isn't anybody in the world like Mummy. You can't think how she +works, and what a hard time she has when people won't buy her pictures." + +"Tell me about it," said Mr. Brown, and there was something in his +voice that made Lill go on almost in spite of herself. Jill did not +feel at all sure whether Mummy would approve of having her private +affairs revealed to a stranger, and would have stopped her sister if +she could, but Lill had forgotten everything in the world except her +mother's cheerful bravery, and her anxiety that this strange gentleman +with the sad smile and kind eyes, should know and appreciate her. So +she told all about their father's sad death in Rome, of their coming to +Florence, and of all Mummy's struggles and difficulties. + +"She never complains or says she's tired," finished Lill, with a break +in her voice, "but we can see the tired look in her eyes, and it makes +us feel as if we wanted to cry." + +"Has your mother no friends or relatives who can help her?" Mr. Brown +was looking straight into the fire as he asked the question. + +"She has a brother, but he doesn't ever do anything to help her," said +Lill, impulsively. + +"Perhaps he doesn't know that she needs help. Does she ever write to +him?" + +"I don't believe so, but even if she did, I'm sure he wouldn't help +her, because--" + +"I don't think Mummy would like to have us talk about that," said Jill, +who had suddenly grown very red. "I'm afraid we shall have to go now," +she added, rising. "We only came to wish you a Merry Christmas, and to +bring the cake and oranges." + +"Well, you haven't wished me a Merry Christmas yet," said Mr. Brown, +"and I haven't thanked you for your presents. Don't be in a hurry. It's +pretty lonely shut up in this room all day. My man is out, or I would +offer you some tea." + +"Mummy doesn't let us drink tea," said Lill, "but we often make it for +her. We will make some for you if you would like to have us." + +"I should like it immensely," Mr. Brown assured her. "I have been +longing for a cup of tea for the past half-hour, and I have no idea how +soon my man will be back. I gave him the afternoon off to spend with +his family. I think you will find everything you need in that closet." + +For the next ten minutes the twins were very busy. Their housewifely +little souls swelled with pride at this opportunity of displaying their +culinary abilities, and as they made the tea they chattered away to +their new acquaintance, telling all about their plan for learning +to cook a real dinner to surprise Mummy when she came home, and in +their innocent prattle divulging many of the details of their simple +lives. And Mr. Brown listened, almost in silence, and as the children +chattered on, the look of sadness deepened in his eyes. + +"And now what can I offer you in the way of refreshments?" he asked, +smiling, as Lill triumphantly brought him a cup of steaming tea, which +he declared to be the very best he had ever tasted. "Suppose we begin +on the cake. It looks delicious." + +"No, no, that's all for you," protested Lill. "Signora Paloni made us +a big cake, and we've got plenty more upstairs. Besides, we don't need +anything to eat. We dined with the Palonis, and they had such good +things." + +"What did they have?" Mr. Brown inquired with interest, as he sipped +his tea. + +"Roast chicken stuffed with chestnuts, and fried potatoes, and +artichokes cooked in cream. And for dessert there was fruit, and the +Palonis had wine." + +"Not a very elaborate Christmas dinner, I should say," said Mr. Brown, +laughing. "How about the plum pudding and mince pie?" + +"Oh, they don't have those things in Italy," Jill explained. "Mummy has +told us about them, and they must be delicious, but we are very fond of +roast chicken, and we very seldom have it." + +Mr. Brown suddenly set down his cup. + +"What do you usually have for dinner?" he asked, sharply. + +Jill was a little startled at this question, which struck her as +somewhat curious, but Lill answered innocently-- + +"Oh, we have soup and vegetables and macaroni, and on Sundays we have +salad, and sometimes Mummy makes a pudding. Oh, we have very good +dinners, but of course they are not like the Palonis'." + +"Come here," said Mr. Brown, in a voice that was not quite steady, +and he put out his hand and drew Lill to him. "I want to talk to you +a little before you go away. I had a little Lilian of my own last +Christmas, and she was very much like you." + +"Yes, I know," said Lill, softly; "you told us in the gallery, and +Tessa, Signora Paloni's maid--told us about the dreadful thing that +happened. We were so sorry. That was one reason why we wanted to come +to see you to-day. We were afraid you might be lonely." + +"Lonely!" repeated Mr. Brown, sadly. "Ah, my little girl, I hope you +may never know what loneliness like mine means. It was very good of +you to come to see me, and I appreciate it more than I can express. +You have each brought me a present, and now I want to give you one in +return." + +He put his hand into his pocket, from whence he produced a shining gold +piece, which he held out to Lill. + +"It's only a trifle," he said, carelessly, "but you can buy something +you want with it." + +But to his surprise, Lill drew back, her cheeks crimsoning. + +"You are very kind," she said timidly, "but please don't be angry, we +couldn't possibly take it; Mummy wouldn't like to have us." + +"Nonsense," began Mr. Brown, impatiently; then checked himself at sight +of the children's embarrassment. "Do you really think your mother would +object to your accepting a little present?" he asked, kindly. + +"I'm afraid she would," said Jill, coming to her sister's rescue. "I +am quite sure she wouldn't like to have us take money from some one she +doesn't know." + +"Oh, that is the trouble, is it? Well, I think we may be able to get +over that difficulty when your mother comes home, and in the meantime, +you are quite right not to do anything you think she would disapprove. +How old are you, by the way?" + +"We were eleven in October," said Jill, feeling much relieved at seeing +Mr. Brown put the gold piece back in his pocket, "but I am much taller +than Lill." + +"Yes, Lill is small for her age; she is not any taller than my little +girl, and she was only nine." + +"Do I really look so much like her?" inquired Lill, her big, innocent +eyes fixed earnestly on Mr. Brown's face. + +"Very much indeed; so much that I sometimes almost fancy--but there, +there, we won't talk about sad things, especially on Christmas. Come +and see me again." + +"Yes indeed we will," said Jill, heartily; "we've had a lovely time, +and we're ever so much obliged to you for letting us make the tea." + +Lill said nothing, but with a sudden impulse, she slipped her hand +confidingly into Mr. Brown's. For a moment his fingers closed tightly +over the little hand, and then he bent and kissed her on the forehead. + +"Good-bye," he said, in a low, unsteady voice. "God bless you, little +Lilian." + +"What a very nice gentleman!" exclaimed Jill, as the twins went +upstairs together. "I think he was really very glad to see us. Aren't +you glad we went?" + +"Yes," said Lill. "I like him very much, but, oh, Jill, he has such a +sad look in his eyes. I never felt so sorry for any one before. I do +wish we could do something for him that would make him really happy." + +For several minutes after the door had closed behind his visitors, Mr. +Brown remained in the same position, staring into the fire with dim, +unseeing eyes. Then suddenly his head sank forward on the table beside +him, with a sigh that was almost a groan. + +"God forgive me," he murmured brokenly. "My poor little Kitty! I never +dreamed it had been as bad as this. But I will atone, God helping me, I +will atone." + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + +Signora Paloni was teaching the twins to prepare _gniocchi_, which is +a favorite Italian dish, and tastes something like baked Indian meal +with cheese in it; and it would be difficult to say which of the three, +teacher or pupils, had enjoyed herself the most. It was three days +since Christmas, and that morning's post had brought another letter +from Mummy, containing the joyful news that they might expect her at +home again by the end of the week. + +"It hasn't been so very dreadful, after all, has it?" remarked Jill, +as she put the precious letter carefully away in a place of safety. "I +don't believe things are ever as bad as people think they're going to +be." In which sentiment Lill was quite ready to agree. + +"It does smell good," exclaimed Lill, surveying the result of their +afternoon's work with pardonable pride. "How I wish Mummy could come in +this very minute, and eat it all for her supper!" + +"We'll cook some more the day she comes home, and have it ready for +a surprise," suggested Jill. "I wish we could give some of this to +somebody, though; we never can eat it all ourselves. Do you think +Signor would care for it for his supper?" + +Signora Paloni replied that her husband was not fond of _gniocchi_ +which he declared always gave him indigestion. + +"I'll tell you what we might do," said Lill, with a sudden inspiration. +"Take some down to Mr. Brown. I'm sure he'd like it, and his man could +warm it up for supper." + +"May we, Signora?" Jill inquired, a little doubtfully. Signora Paloni +had not altogether approved of their Christmas visit. + +"Gentlemen do not like being disturbed in their apartments," she had +said, reprovingly, "and it is not the thing for young ladies to visit +strangers. You must not go there again till your mother returns." + +The twins had felt sure that Mr. Brown had not objected to their +visit, and they did not believe Mummy would have objected, but a long +experience had taught them that there was never any use in arguing with +the good Signora, and so the matter had dropped. So it was something +of a surprise to both children when the landlady, instead of positively +refusing to allow them to take the dish to her lodger, only looked a +little troubled, and said doubtfully-- + +"I do not know what your mother would say to it, but I can see no harm, +provided you only take the plate to the door, and come away at once. He +seems a kind gentleman, and he is a countryman of yours." + +"Of course he is," said Jill, "and you can't think how kind he was, and +how much he seemed to enjoy our tea." + +"I think he is interested in you, for Tessa tells me he asks many +questions about you," said Signora Paloni, putting some of the +_gniocchi_ into a plate. "We will cover it with a napkin to keep it +warm. Which of you will take it to the gentleman's apartment?" + +"You go, Lill," said Jill. "I think he likes you best on account of +your name." + +"Be sure to return at once," were Signora Paloni's parting words, as +Lill left the room with her offering. To this Lill replied that she +wouldn't be gone five minutes. + +As far as appearances went, Mr. Brown might not have moved since the +twins left him three days before, for Lill found him in precisely the +same position before the fire, his injured leg supported on a stool. He +was not alone this time, for his attendant, a pleasant-faced man with +gray hair, opened the door in answer to Lill's knock, and courteously +requested her to enter. Lill hesitated, mindful of Signora Paloni's +injunctions, and was just about to leave her plate with the man, when +Mr. Brown called out to know who was there. + +"It's I, Lill Dinsmore," said Lill, stepping forward. + +Mr. Brown threw down the book he had been reading, and held out his +hand. + +"I'm glad to see you," he said. "I was beginning to think you'd +forgotten your promise to come again. What have you been doing all this +time?" + +"We would have liked to come sooner," said Lill, relinquishing her +plate to the attendant, and slipping her hand confidingly into Mr. +Brown's. "We wanted to come yesterday, but Signora Paloni was afraid we +might bother you." + +"Well, you can tell Signora Paloni that she doesn't know anything about +it. You don't bother me in the least, and I want you to come whenever +you choose." + +"You're very kind," said Lill, flushing with pleasure. "I'll tell her, +and I'm sure she won't mind our coming when she knows you want us. I +can only stay a minute now, though, because Signora is giving us a +cooking lesson. I came to bring you something we made this afternoon, +that we thought you might like for your supper." + +"I am sure I shall, but I wish you were going to stay and help me eat +it, for I should like that even better. It isn't exciting spending day +after day shut up in the house by one's self." + +"It must be perfectly horrid," Lill agreed, sympathetically. "I hope +your knee is better." + +"Oh, it's getting on as well as can be expected. The doctor was here +this morning, and he says I shall be about again in another week. Any +more letters from Sicily, eh?" + +"We had one this morning," said Lill, her face brightening at the +recollection. "Mummy's having a lovely time, but the best news of all +is, she expects to get home on Saturday. That's why we're so anxious +about the cooking lessons. We want to take all we possibly can before +she comes, so as to be able to surprise her. I'm afraid I must be going +now, but I'll ask Signora to let us both come again to-morrow." + +"Wait one moment; I want to ask you a question. It's about an uncle of +yours. I think you mentioned an uncle the other day, and I have an +idea I know something about him. Would you mind telling me his name?" + +Lill's whole expression changed instantly, and she drew herself up with +an air of haughtiness, which might have amused some people, but which +did not appear to strike Mr. Brown as funny. + +"His name is Mr. George Brooks," she said, "but if you don't mind, I'd +rather not talk about him. Jill thinks Mummy wouldn't like to have us." + +"Doesn't Mummy ever talk about him herself?" + +"Yes, sometimes, but it always makes her sad, and we don't like to have +her do it. You see, he's her only brother, and she used to love him +very much. Of course it must make her sad to think of him now; he's +such a wicked man." + +"Did she tell you he was a wicked man?" Mr. Brown asked the question +rather sharply. + +"Oh, no," said Lill, eagerly. "She wouldn't tell us for the world. She +always says kind things about Uncle George; she doesn't even know we +have any idea how wicked he is." + +"How did you find it out?" There was no evading the direct question, or +the keen, searching glance that accompanied it, and although Lill was +beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable, she felt impelled to answer. + +"We heard an American lady talking about him in the gallery one day," +she said, reluctantly. "She used to know Mummy a long time ago in New +York, and she was talking to another lady. She didn't know we heard +what she said, and we never liked to speak to Mummy about it." + +"What did she say about your uncle? I have a reason for asking, for if +he is the George Brooks I know, I happen to have heard something about +him, too." + +Lill's eyes flashed. For the moment she had quite forgotten Jill's +warning. She remembered nothing but the one dreadful fact, that +somebody had once been unkind to Mummy. + +"She said Mummy used to live with her brother in New York, and he had +a great deal of money, but Mummy only had what he gave her, because +her father had made a queer will, and left everything to his only son. +Mummy wanted to go to Italy and study art, but her brother wouldn't let +her, because he was selfish, and wanted her to stay and keep house for +him. Mummy was very sweet about it, and gave it all up to please him, +but afterwards, when she wanted to marry father, Uncle George was very +angry. He told her if she did it he would never speak to her again, or +let her have any of his money. Of course Mummy married father, because +she loved him better than any one else in the world, and afterwards +when they were very poor, and father was ill, she wrote to Uncle +George, begging him to send them just a little money, but he sent back +her letter without reading it. That lady was in Rome when father died, +and Mummy said she and her husband were very kind to us, but she's paid +back all their money now, and she's so glad, because it made her very +unhappy to owe anybody money. But Uncle George was her own brother; he +ought to have helped her." + +"Perhaps he never received the letter--perhaps he was away at the time, +and it was returned without his knowledge." Mr. Brown spoke quietly, +but there was a look of suffering in his eyes, which Lill was too +indignant and excited to notice. + +"I don't believe it," she declared stoutly. "He was a very wicked man. +If he hadn't been he would never have told Mummy he wouldn't speak to +her if she married father. Just wait till you see how sweet and dear +she is, and then you'll know nobody but a wicked man could be unkind +to her. Oh, I hate Uncle George--I hate him! I hope I shall never have +to see him as long as I live." + +Lill paused abruptly, rather ashamed of her vehemence, and struck by +something strange in the expression with which Mr. Brown was regarding +her. She blushed crimson, and turned away in sudden embarrassment. + +"I'm afraid I'll have to go now," she said, uneasily. "Signora and Jill +won't know what has become of me. Good-bye; I hope you'll like our +_gniocchi_." + +"Good-bye," said Mr. Brown, in a grave, quiet voice, but he did not say +he was sure he should enjoy the _gniocchi_, nor anything more about her +coming again. + +Lill was feeling decidedly uncomfortable as she closed Mr. Brown's door +behind her, and started on her way upstairs. + +"I wish I hadn't talked about Uncle George," she said to herself. "I +wonder what made me do it. He did ask me, but I needn't have told him +everything. Perhaps Uncle George is a friend of his, and it made him +unhappy to hear such dreadful things about him. I don't believe I'd +better tell Jill." Lill winked back a tear, for she was not accustomed +to keeping things from her twin and she did not like the idea. + +At the top of the second flight she met Jill coming down, with her hat +on. + +"Where in the world are you going?" Lill inquired in surprise. + +"Only to the fruit stall at the corner, for some chestnuts. Signora is +going to show us how to do something with them. You were gone so long +we didn't know what had become of you. Did he like the _gniocchi_?" + +"Yes--at least I think he did. He wants us to come to see him again. He +says to tell Signora we don't bother him at all." + +"That's nice; did you say we'd come?" + +"I said we would if she'd let us, and I hope she will, for I think he's +very lonely." + +"Oh, I'm sure she will when she knows he wants us," said cheerful Jill, +and she tripped away on her errand, leaving Lill to go back to Signora +Paloni and the cooking lesson. + +It was a glorious winter's afternoon, and as Jill stepped out into the +bright sunshine, and felt the crisp, frosty air in her face, she drew +in a long, deep breath of enjoyment. + +"How good it feels to be out of doors!" she said to herself, as she +hurried along the quiet little street. "I shall be glad when Mummy +comes home, and we can have some walks again." + +Signora Paloni was not much of a walker, and as she did not approve of +the twins going further than the corner of the street by themselves, +they had naturally been confined to the house more than they liked +since Mummy went away. She had taken them to market once or twice, and +on Sunday they had gone again to high mass at The Duomo, and afterwards +walked across the _Ponte Vecchio_--the long bridge over the Arno, which +is lined with gay shops--but when Mummy was at home, she generally +tried to give the children some exercise on pleasant days, and there +were few parts of the beautiful old city in which they could not have +found their way. Sometimes they would even walk as far as San Miniato, +and looking down from the height, would watch the sun set over the +city, coming home tired and hungry, but all the better for their long +walk. + +It was too pleasant to hurry, and so, after the first few yards, Jill +slackened her pace to a leisurely walk. + +"I wish it was a little further," she reflected regretfully. "If I +crawled every step of the way, I couldn't make it last more than ten +minutes. Why, what in the world are all those people looking at?" + +Instinctively she quickened her steps, anxious to learn the reason why +a crowd of people should be gathered in front of the little fruit and +vegetable stall, from which Mummy and Signora Paloni procured most of +their simple wants. The crowd consisted of both men and women, and they +were all talking and gesticulating in a most excited manner. As she +drew nearer Jill saw that one of the men had an open newspaper, from +which he appeared to be reading aloud, and that several women were +crying and wringing their hands. Jill's heart began to beat very fast, +and almost without knowing it, she started on a run. + +"What has happened?" she demanded eagerly of the first person she met, +a boy with a parcel under his arm. + +The boy shouted something about "the earthquake," and ran on without +stopping. + +"What earthquake--where is it?" cried Jill, but the boy was already +half way down the street, and did not seem to hear. + +In two minutes she had reached the corner, and pushed her way through +the excited, chattering crowd to the door of the little shop. + +The shop-keeper--a rosy-cheeked young woman, who had known the twins +for years--was crying, with her apron before her face. Jill went up to +her, and touched her on the arm. + +"What's the matter?" she asked, tremulously. "Has there really been an +earthquake, and where was it?" + +[Illustration: "HAS THERE REALLY BEEN AN EARTHQUAKE, AND WHERE WAS +IT?"] + +"Oh, Signorina," cried the woman, with a fresh burst of tears, "it is +too terrible--too terrible! There has been a dreadful earthquake in +Sicily, and--" + +"Sicily!" shrieked Jill, all the color going out of her face. "Oh, no, +it isn't Sicily, it can't be! Please say it isn't, quick!" + +"Yes, Sicily," repeated the woman, mournfully, and another bystander, +anxious to impart the thrilling news, chimed in. "They say it is the +worst earthquake ever known in Italy. The whole country is devastated, +the town of Messina is in ruins, and every man, woman and child in the +place is dead." + +For one awful moment everything grew black before Jill's eyes, and the +figures and the faces seemed to fade away into dim distance. Then, +with a quick, gasping sob of terror, she turned, and ran with flying +feet back in the direction of home. It was not true, of course, she +told herself, such a horrible thing could not be true; it was all some +dreadful mistake! But she could not stay there, and listen to those +cruel people. She must get back to Signora Paloni and Lill; they would +take care of her, and convince her she had not heard the words aright. +Sicily, Messina! every one dead! No, no, it was not true, of course, +but, oh, to be at home! To have somebody tell her it was all a mistake! + +Mr. Brown was still sitting where Lill had left him, staring moodily +into the fire, when the door opened, and his man--who had gone out for +a few minutes--came in with a newspaper in his hand. + +"Shut the door, Fratini," said Mr. Brown, irritably; "I don't like that +draught. Why, man alive, what on earth is the matter? You look as if +you had seen a ghost." + +But Fratini did not answer. Neither did he close the door. On the +contrary, he stood leaning against it, as if for support. His face was +very white, and he was trembling violently. Mr. Brown repeated his +question. + +"In Heaven's name, what is the matter with you?" In his astonishment he +half rose from his chair, but sank back again, admonished by a sharp +twinge of pain in his knee. + +"Oh, Signor," faltered Fratini, in his broken English, "I do beg ten +thousand pardons, but this terrible news--" + +"What terrible news? Speak out, can't you? And don't stand there +staring like an idiot." + +"The terrible earthquake in Sicily--the Signor has not heard? Thousands +of people have perished, they say, and the whole town of Messina--" + +"Earthquake in Messina! What nonsense are you talking? Here, give me +that paper, and let me see for myself. Confound it, the thing's in +Italian!" + +"Go and get me an English newspaper as quick as you can, or stay, wait +a minute; read me what this one says. You can translate as you go +along." + +Fratini began to read, pausing at the end of every sentence to +translate it into English, and in his horror and excitement, making +even more mistakes than usual. But even in Fratini's broken English +the account was terrible enough to drive the color from Mr. Brown's +face as he listened; A look of horror came into his eyes, and several +times he made an effort to spring out of his seat, only to sink back +again, with a scarcely suppressed groan of pain. In the excitement of +the moment, Fratini had forgotten to close the door, and he was in the +midst of the most frightful details when a slight sound behind them +caused both men to turn, and there, standing in the doorway, supporting +herself against the wall, stood Jill, her face like marble, her eyes +filled by a great, nameless terror. + +With an exclamation of dismay, Fratini dropped the paper, and hurried +forward. + +"Signorina," he cried pityingly, "Oh the pauvera Signorina!" + +But Jill did not seem to hear him. There was something in Mr. Brown's +face which terrified her more even than the dreadful news in the street +had done. Twice she moved her lips, in a vain effort to speak, and then +with a low cry, she darted forward, and almost fell at Mr. Brown's feet. + +"Oh, it isn't true--say it isn't true!" she cried, despairingly. "Oh, +Mummy, Mummy!" And she broke into a wild paroxysm of sobs. + +Mr. Brown raised her gently, and drew her down on the arm of his chair. +With a great effort, he controlled his own agitation sufficiently to +speak calmly. + +"My poor little girl," he said, soothingly, "I am so sorry you have +heard this distressing story, but you must not let it trouble you +so much, indeed you must not. Such things are always frightfully +exaggerated at first." + +"Then you don't think it's true?" cried Jill, catching eagerly at the +first ray of hope. "The people in the street said it was true, but it +can't be--it's too terrible." + +"I think the report is doubtless greatly exaggerated," said Mr. Brown, +gently. "How much truth there may be in it I cannot tell. We must try +to wait patiently for more details." + +"They said it was Messina," faltered Jill; "Mummy is in Messina." + +Mr. Brown said nothing, but the look of suffering deepened on his face, +and he drew Jill a little closer, as if to shield her from something. +There was a pause. Fratini had picked up the paper, but he made no +effort to go on reading, and stood looking at Jill, with a great pity +in his eyes. At last Jill spoke, in a low, trembling little voice. + +"I don't know what to do about Lill," she said. "Do you think we'll +have to tell her?" + +"I am afraid it would be difficult to keep from her the news that there +has been an earthquake in Sicily, but we can make as light of it as +possible. Why do you object to her knowing?" + +"It's on account of her heart," said Jill, with a sob. "It isn't very +strong, and the doctor told Mummy she must never be frightened or +worried about things. She is much better than she used to be, but Mummy +told me she shouldn't like Lill ever to have a shock of any kind." + +Mr. Brown looked very grave. + +"Do you think you can manage to break the news to her so it won't be a +great shock?" he asked, anxiously. + +Jill was silent for a moment while her whole body shook with sobs. Mr. +Brown drew the little girl very close, and gently stroked her hair. + +"Poor little Jill," he murmured softly, "poor little Jill!" + +Then, with a mighty effort, Jill stifled her sobs, and slipped an icy +little hand into his. + +"I'll try," she said steadily; "I won't let Lill be any more frightened +than I can possibly help." + +Mr. Brown bent and kissed her. + +"That's my brave little girl," he said huskily. "Now run upstairs +before Lill has a chance of hearing the news in any other way, and tell +Signora Paloni I want to speak to her at once." + +Signora Paloni and Lill were growing decidedly impatient. + +"What can be detaining her so long?" fumed the signora. "It is wrong of +her to linger so. I would never have let her go if I had thought she +would stay so long." + +"It's a beautiful afternoon," said Lill, apologetically, "and we +haven't either of us been out all day. Please don't be cross, Signora; +I'm sure she'll be back in a few minutes." + +"I do not wish to be cross, but I have work to do, and do not choose +to wait about all the afternoon for a naughty little girl who loiters +when sent on an errand. It will soon be time to go and see about my +husband's dinner." + +"Here she is," exclaimed Lill, in a tone of relief, as the door opened. +"Why, Jill, what has kept you so long?" + +Jill was very pale, and her lips twitched nervously, but her voice was +calm as she answered quietly-- + +"I'm sorry I kept you waiting, but I couldn't help it. I stopped to +speak to Mr. Brown. Signora, Mr. Brown wants to see you at once, +please." + +"Now, what in the world can he want with me at this hour?" grumbled the +Signora as she left the room. "I will be back directly, children, and +in the meantime you can be opening the chestnuts." + +"Why, where are the chestnuts?" inquired Lill, regarding her sister in +astonishment. "Jill, I do believe you never got them after all." + +Jill made an effort to smile, but only succeeded in checking a rising +sob. + +"I forgot all about the chestnuts," she said. "A boy said something +that frightened me, and I ran all the way home, but Mr. Brown says it's +nothing to be frightened about." + +"What was it?" inquired Lill, looking a little worried. + +Jill turned away abruptly, and went to the closet to hang up her jacket. + +"Why," she said in a voice that surprised herself by its calmness, +"they say there was a little earthquake somewhere in Sicily. I don't +suppose it was very bad, but when I heard people say earthquake and +Sicily, of course I thought of Mummy, and I ran right home without +stopping to get the chestnuts. I stopped in Mr. Brown's room to tell +him about it, and he says it's probably dreadfully exaggerated. Now, +Lill dear, don't begin to cry like that. It's so silly when we don't +even know there really was any earthquake at all." + +"But if there really was one," sobbed Lill, "and if Mummy was in it, +she must have been so dreadfully frightened. I don't like to think of +Mummy's being frightened when she went away to have a good time." + +But though Lill cried, Jill saw, with a sensation of intense relief, +there were no signs of the blue lines about her lips, which she knew +her mother always dreaded to see. At least Lill had been spared the +shock of hearing the terrible news as she herself had heard it. + +"How glad I am Signora sent me for the chestnuts instead of her!" she +said to herself. And then, with a sudden irresistible longing for love +and sympathy, she threw her arms round her sister's neck and hugged +her. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + +"Are you awake, Jill?" + +"Yes," said Jill, lifting her head from the pillow with a start, and +speaking in a rather choked voice. + +Lill sighed. + +"I can't get to sleep," she said, mournfully, "I'm trying hard, because +I promised Mr. Brown, but it isn't any use. Do you suppose they've +heard anything since we went to bed?" + +"I'm sure they haven't," said Jill, with decision. "Signora promised +to come and tell us the minute the telegram came. I do wish you would +go to sleep, Lill. I'm so afraid you will be ill if you don't, and it +would be dreadful to have you ill when Mummy comes home." + +Lill began to cry softly. + +"Oh, Jill, do you think she ever will come home?" she sobbed. "It's all +so dreadful, and I'm so frightened." + +"Of course she will," said Jill, in a voice that sounded almost angry +in her effort not to break into a sob. "You know what Mr. Brown said +about all the telegraph wires being down. It must make Mummy dreadfully +unhappy not to be able to send us any news, but she'll come home the +very first minute she can." + +"But so many people were killed," faltered Lill. "How do you know that +Mummy--" + +"God wouldn't be so cruel as to let anything terrible happen to our +precious Mummy," Jill interrupted sharply. "She's all we have in the +world." + +"God let father die," said Lill, mournfully, "and He let Uncle George +be unkind to Mummy. Jill, do you suppose Uncle George would be sorry if +he knew about her being in Sicily?" + +"Of course he would," said Jill, with decision. "She's his own sister, +and he used to love her very much when she was a little girl." + +"I wish he did know," cried Lill, with sudden vehemence. "I wish +something dreadful would happen to him--something that would make him +just as miserable and unhappy as we are now. Oh, Mummy, Mummy! To think +of any one's ever being unkind to you!" And Lill burst into wild, +uncontrollable sobs. + +Three days had passed since the first news of the terrible earthquake +had reached Florence; three long, terrible, interminable days. Every +hour the news of the awful catastrophe grew more and more alarming. All +over the civilized world newspapers were ringing with the frightful +details, and in Italy people seemed almost paralyzed by the shock. +Already the king had started for the scene of the calamity, and the +brave young queen had accompanied him, ready and anxious to offer her +personal assistance to the wounded and the homeless. At the Palonis' +the news had been at first received with incredulous amazement, then +with ever-increasing horror and belief. Signora Paloni cried all day +long, and went to the Duomo to pray whenever she could leave the house, +and her husband went about with a look on his jolly, good-humored face +that no one had ever seen there before. It had not been possible to +keep Lill long in ignorance of at least some of the terrible details. +Jill had saved her the first great shock, but grief and anxiety were +rapidly telling on her never strong constitution, and Signora Paloni +and Jill watched her in hourly increasing terror. There was only one +person in the house who appeared to have any influence over the poor +child, and that person, strange to say, was the lodger, Mr. Brown. Lill +had only known Mr. Brown for a few days, but she had taken an odd +fancy to him from the first, and now as the terrible days dragged on, +bringing no news from the absent mother, she grew to lean upon him, and +cling to him in a kind of despair, as if he, of all the world, were the +only one who could help them in their awful anxiety. + +"I don't know what makes me feel that way about him," she told Jill, +when her sister questioned her on the subject, "but he seems so strong, +and--and I feel almost sure he is just as unhappy as we are." + +"But he can't be," reasoned Jill. "He never even saw Mummy. He's sorry +for us, of course--everybody is sorry--and it was lovely of him to send +Fratini to Sicily to try to find out something, but he can't possibly +care as much as Signora or Miss Dexter." + +But Lill was not convinced. + +"I don't know why he cares, but I'm sure he does," she maintained, and +Jill, feeling it useless to argue the subject any further, was silent. + +And now it was the last night of the old year. In two hours more the +new year would begin--a sad new year for many in Italy, whose friends +or relatives had perished in the terrible earthquake. The twins had +almost forgotten that it was New Year's Eve, but as Jill lay listening +to her sister's sobs, trying hard to keep her own grief from having its +way, she suddenly remembered, and the recollection added a new pang to +her sorrow. + +"Lill dear," she said, softly, "do you remember what night it is?" + +"No," said Lill, drearily. + +"It's New Year's Eve; don't you remember what a good time we had last +year?" + +"Yes, I do. Mummy let us sit up to see the old year out, and we made +taffy, and she read Dickens' 'Christmas Carol' to us." + +"Yes, and we made good resolutions for the new year. Don't you think +Mummy would be pleased if we made some good resolutions to-night? We +could tell her about them when she comes home." + +But Lill was not comforted; her sobs were becoming more and more +violent every moment. Jill was at her wits' end. The night before +Lill had cried herself into a state of hysteria, which had frightened +Signora Paloni very much. At the request of Mr. Brown, a doctor had +been summoned, who had given the child a powder to quiet her nerves, +and gone away looking rather grave. + +"Lill dear, don't cry so, please don't," pleaded Jill, clasping her +hands in despair. "You'll be ill, and then Mummy will be so worried +and unhappy. Don't you want to be happy when she comes back from that +dreadful Sicily?" + +"She isn't coming back--she'll never come back!" wailed Lill. "She's +dead, I know she's dead! Oh, Mummy, Mummy!" + +Jill sprang out of bed; she was almost beside herself with terror and +distress. + +"You've got to stop that, Lill," she cried; "I tell you you've got to! +I'm going down to call Signora." + +"No, don't, don't, please don't! First she'll scold, and then she'll +cry and wring her hands, the way she always does. She isn't any use. I +want somebody strong, who doesn't cry and make a fuss--somebody like +Mr. Brown." + +"Very well, let's go down to Mr. Brown then," said Jill, desperately. +"It's only just ten; I don't believe he's gone to bed yet. I'll get +your clothes. Never mind about putting everything on; your wrapper and +slippers will be enough. We'll only stay a few minutes, and when we +come back you'll go right to sleep, won't you?" + +"I'll try," promised Lill, humbly. "But won't Signora be very angry if +we go down to Mr. Brown?" + +"I can't help it if she is," said Jill, thrusting her sister's arms +into her wrapper sleeves, for Lill seemed almost too weak and dazed to +do anything for herself. "I only know I can't let you go on crying this +way, and if you think Mr. Brown can make you stop, why, we've got to go +and see him, that's all." + +Mr. Brown was alone in his sitting-room. He had been there for hours, +scarcely moving, and always gazing into the fire with dim, unseeing +eyes. His knee was better, but he was still confined to his room, and +the awful inaction of the past three days had caused him to look years +older than when the twins had made him their first visit on Christmas +afternoon. Twice he had risen, startled by some fancied sound in the +street, and limping painfully to the window, had thrown it open, and +leaned out listening. But everything was quiet, and in a few moments +he had closed his window again, and gone back to his seat by the fire. +Tessa, who now attended to all the lodger's wants, had brought him his +supper, but he had bidden her take it away again, intimating by signs +that he was not hungry, and wished to be left alone. + +A distant church clock struck ten. Mr. Brown counted the stroke and +heaved a deep sigh. Another day gone, and still no news--no lessening +of this awful suspense. A few minutes later there was a timid knock +at the door, the handle was gently turned, and Mr. Brown turned in +astonishment to see two little figures dressed just alike in blue +flannel wrappers, with pig-tails hanging down their backs, come into +the room. + +Lill ran to him, with a sob, and without uttering a word, he gathered +the trembling child in his arms. + +"I had to bring her," Jill explained apologetically. "She wouldn't go +to sleep, and I was afraid she would cry herself ill again. She said +she wanted somebody strong like you." + +"May we stay a little while?" whispered Lill, letting her head rest +wearily on her friend's shoulder. "You are so big and strong; I don't +feel half so frightened when I am with you." + +"You may stay just as long as you like," Mr. Brown said, his arms +tightening about the little figure as he spoke. "Poor little Lill; it +is very hard to be patient, isn't it?" + +"Oh, so hard!" answered Lill, with a catch in her voice. "I wish I +could be brave like Jill, but I get so terribly frightened when I +think about the earthquake, and that Mummy may never come home." A +shivering sob finished the sentence. + +Mr. Brown said nothing, but held the little girl close in his strong +arms, and in a little while the nervous trembling began to subside, +and at last ceased altogether. Jill--who had been watching her sister +anxiously--looked relieved, and Mr. Brown smiled at her reassuringly, +and held out his hand. + +"Come here, Jill," he said, and Jill came and knelt on the hearth rug, +and Mr. Brown stroked her hair gently. They were all silent for a few +minutes; then Lill spoke. + +"I feel ever so much better," she said, softly. "I wonder why you +always make me feel better. You never cry or make a fuss like Signora. +Jill says you can't possibly care about Mummy, because you've never +seen her, but I'm sure you do care very much." + +"Indeed I do, little girl; I care far more than you dream. This is a +terrible time for us all, but we must try to be patient and hope for +the best. We ought surely to have some word from Fratini to-morrow." + +"And from Mummy, too," said Jill. "I know Mummy will send us some news +just as soon as she possibly can. She knows how worried we are." + +"I am quite sure she will," said Mr. Brown in a tone of forced +cheerfulness, and then they were all silent again until Lill remarked +wonderingly-- + +"I've been trying to think why you should care about Mummy when you've +never seen her. I suppose it must be because you're sorry for us. You +must have been very unhappy when your little Lilian was drowned, and +that makes you more sorry for other unhappy people." + +Jill looked uncomfortable, and gave her sister a warning glance, but +Lill went on without heeding it. + +"You must have loved your little Lilian very much, or you wouldn't have +liked me right away, just because my name happened to be Lilian, too." + +"I did indeed," said Mr. Brown in a very low voice. + +"And when you heard about her being drowned, it must have been just as +much of a shock as it was to Jill when she heard about the earthquake. +Do you like talking about Lilian?" + +"I have not talked to many people about her, but I should not mind +talking to you if you would care to hear." + +Lill was much impressed, and Jill laid a kind little hand on Mr. +Brown's knee. + +"Was she pretty?" she asked softly. + +"We thought her very pretty. She had big blue eyes, and long yellow +curls, and she was a bright little girl for her age. Her mother and I +were very proud of her." + +"Her mother," repeated Jill, with a sudden recollection. "Oh, I +remember; her mother was drowned, too." + +Lill felt the arms that held her tremble slightly, but Mr. Brown's +voice was quite calm when he answered, though the look of suffering had +deepened on his face. + +"It was a bathing accident," he said. "We had a cottage at the +seashore, not far from New York. I was obliged to go to town every day, +to attend to business, and my wife and little girl used to drive me to +the station. They drove me as usual that last morning, and Lilian asked +me to bring her home a particular story-book she wanted. I promised +to get the book if I did not forget, and as the train was moving out +of the station, I heard her little voice calling to me from the pony +carriage; 'Don't forget, Daddy, be sure you don't forget.' I turned +for one last look, and they both smiled and nodded to me. Lilian kissed +her hand. I never saw either my wife or my little girl again." + +"Oh!" gasped Lill, and she suddenly drew Mr. Brown's face down and +kissed him. + +"I think we know now why you are so sorry for us," said Jill, softly. +"Would you mind telling us what happened?" + +"They went bathing in the surf as they had often done before. My wife +was a good swimmer, and she had taught Lilian to swim a little, too. +They were both very fond of it. The sea was high that day, and there +was a strong undertow. Nobody knows just what happened, but they think +Lilian swam out too far, and her mother tried to save her. They were +both drowned before help came." + +"How terrible!" said Jill in a shocked voice. "I shouldn't think you +would ever want to see the sea again. I wish we could do something for +you to show how sorry we are." + +"You are showing me that without doing anything at all," said Mr. +Brown, kindly. "There, there, Lill, don't cry so; I shall be sorry I +told you about my little girl if it makes you so unhappy." + +"Oh, it isn't that," said Lill, choking back her sobs. "It was good of +you to tell us, and I loved hearing it, only--only there are so many +unhappy people in the world." + +"But there are a great many happy people in the world as well as +unhappy ones," said Mr. Brown, soothingly. "Why think so much about the +sad things?" + +"Do you really think there are?" asked Lill, somewhat comforted by +this assurance. "Everybody seems so unhappy here now. I said something +wicked to Jill upstairs, and I wish I hadn't--oh, I do wish I hadn't!" + +"What did you say?" Mr. Brown inquired, with a faint smile. + +"It was about Uncle George. I said I wished he knew about Mummy's being +in Sicily, and that it would make him very unhappy. I thought I wanted +him to be unhappy, because he was once unkind to Mummy, but it was a +wicked thing to say. I don't really want any one in the world to be +unhappy, not even Uncle George." + +"Not even Uncle George," repeated Mr. Brown sadly. "Don't you think +that you may be just a little hard on this uncle of yours? You may not +know all the circumstances." + +"I know he was unkind to Mummy," said Lill, and there was a suspicion +of the old obstinacy in her tone. + +"But suppose your uncle never received the letter your mother wrote +him asking for help? Suppose he had no idea that she was poor and in +trouble--did not even know her husband was dead. Would you hate him +quite so much if you knew that?" + +"No, I don't suppose I should," Lill admitted. "If he never got Mummy's +letter, and didn't know about father--but then he was very unkind to +Mummy before." + +"He may have been very sorry for that. I happen to know George Brooks +very well, and I am sure he never received that last letter." + +"Oh," cried Jill, her face lighting up with sudden hope, "do you think +he would help Mummy now if he knew how poor she was, and how hard she +worked?" + +"I know he would. I know he would gladly share everything he has in the +world with her, if only for the sake of gaining her forgiveness. He +would have tried to find her long ago, but they were both very proud, +and they had quarrelled. He was afraid she might not care to see him." + +"But she would, I know she would!" cried Jill, eagerly. "She used to +love him very dearly. She often talks to us about the time when she was +a little girl and she and Uncle George were everything to each other, +just as Lill and I are now. It makes her sad to talk about it, but she +likes to just the same. Is Uncle George a--a nice man?" + +"He has been a hard man, I am afraid," said Mr. Brown, with a sigh, +"but a great sorrow has come into his life, and I think he is less hard +now than he used to be. What's the matter, Lill?" + +"I'm sorry I said I hated Uncle George," said Lill, remorsefully, +burying her face on Mr. Brown's shoulder. "It was unkind, and I don't +like to be unkind." + +"Never mind, little girl; don't think about it any more. Your uncle +won't bear you any malice, you may be sure of that. He has far too +many unkind acts of his own to account for without blaming a little +girl, who only hated him because she thought he had been unkind to her +mother." + +"I'll tell you what we'll do," exclaimed Jill, with a sudden +inspiration. "It's New Year's Eve, and we always make good resolutions +for the new year. Let's resolve never to judge people until we are +perfectly sure we know all about them." + +"But you won't need to make that resolution," said Lill, loyally, +"because you never do say unkind things about anybody--not even about +Uncle George." + +"Oh, well, perhaps I think them just the same," said Jill, blushing. +"Let's make the resolution anyway. It will seem more like New Year's +Eve if we make resolutions. Shall you write to Uncle George about +Mummy, Mr. Brown?" + +"I shall certainly speak to your mother on the subject as soon as she +comes home," said Mr. Brown, and then they were all silent again, for +the same dreadful thought was in all their minds; suppose Mummy never +came home. At last Jill rose reluctantly. + +"I think we had better go now, Lill," she said. "It's getting late, and +Mr. Brown will want to go to bed." + +"I am in no hurry," said Mr. Brown, and he looked almost as if he would +be sorry to have them go. "Stay as long as you like." + +But Jill still looked doubtful. + +"I'm afraid Signora Paloni wouldn't like to have us stay any longer," +she said. "She always comes up to see us before she goes to bed, and if +she doesn't find us she will be frightened." + +"Bother Signora Paloni!" said Mr. Brown, impatiently. "We will hear her +when she comes up, and I will explain matters to her. We'll see the old +year out and the new one in--that is if you don't get sleepy in the +meantime." + +So the children stayed, and when Signora Paloni came up a little +later, Mr. Brown called her in, and made her understand in his halting +Italian, that he wished to keep the twins with him a little longer. +And, somewhat to Jill's surprise, the Signora--whose eyes were red +from crying--made no objection, but merely nodded her head, and crept +quietly away again. It was very still for a long time after that. Lill +fell into a doze, with her head on Mr. Brown's shoulder, but Jill sat +with wide-open eyes, gazing into the fire, and pondering many things. + +At last the stillness was broken by the sound of wheels in the quiet +street. Lill was wide awake in a moment. + +"What is it?" she demanded, sitting up, and staring about the strange +room in a bewildered way. + +"Only a carriage passing," said Mr. Brown. + +"It's stopping here," cried Jill, and she was on her feet and half way +to the door before she had finished her sentence. Lill tried to rise, +too, but she trembled so much that Mr. Brown put his arm round her, +saying reassuringly-- + +"It is nothing, dear, nothing; probably the carriage has stopped next +door." + +A loud ring at the door-bell cut him short, and next moment Lill +had darted away into the hall, after Jill, who was already half way +downstairs. Mr. Brown grew very pale, and sank back in his chair. + +"It is Fratini's telegram," he murmured. "Thank God for any news; +anything is better than this frightful suspense." + +But it was not Fratini's telegram. Jill had the door open before the +Palonis could reach it, and then there was a wild, joyful cry of +"Mummy! Mummy!" and after that nothing but a confused hubbub, in which +everybody seemed to be talking, and crying, and kissing all at once. + +It was nearly half an hour later when Mummy and the twins came upstairs +together. Mummy was very tired--almost exhausted, in fact--but her +eyes were shining with the light of a great thankfulness, and she had +an arm round each little girl. She had not been at Messina, owing to +the slight illness of one of the girls she was chaperoning, which had +detained the party at Palermo longer than they had originally intended, +but they had been through enough trying and painful experiences to give +them the horrors whenever they recalled that time for years to come. It +had not been possible to telegraph the news of their safety to anxious +friends at home, as all the lines were down, but they had left Sicily +on the first available boat, and hurried back to Florence as fast as +the Naples express could bring them. + +Outside Mr. Brown's door the twins paused. + +"Let's go in and speak to him," said Jill. "He'll be so interested to +hear all about it. He has been so good to us, Mummy dear; he even sent +his man all the way to Sicily to try to find you." + +"Indeed I want to thank him," said Mummy, eagerly, and in her quick, +impulsive way, she hurried through the open door, straight into Mr. +Brown's sitting-room. + +"It's Mummy!" cried Lill, joyfully, running to her friend's side. +"She wasn't in that dreadful Messina at all, only in Palermo, and the +earthquake wasn't nearly so bad there. Oh, isn't it glorious to have +her back again, and in time for the new year, too?" + +"I want to thank you for your great kindness to my little girls," began +Mummy, then stopped short, and stood staring in blank astonishment at +Mr. Brown, while all the color went out of her face. + +"Kitty," he said, in a low, unsteady voice, "thank God you are safe. It +has been a terrible time of suspense for us all." + +"George!" gasped Mummy, her face lighting up with a new and sudden joy, +"oh, George dear, this is the best of all, but I never knew--I never +dreamed--" + +"Of course you didn't," said Mr. Brown, smiling, though there were +tears in his eyes. "These little people didn't dream either, but we +have settled several things to-night; among others that it isn't +wise to judge people until we know all the circumstances in the case. +I came to Florence three weeks ago, and in a chance meeting with these +two little girls learned some things I had never known before. I +engaged this apartment, under an assumed name, and moved in here a few +days later. I wanted to see for myself how things were with you, and +feared to come forward openly at first, in case the old pride should +stand in the way of your telling me all I wanted to know. Unfortunately +I met with an accident the very day after my arrival, which delayed +matters considerably, and the next news I heard was that you had gone +to Sicily. These dear little twins of yours took pity on a lonely +invalid, and brought him a Christmas present. We made friends, and then +came the terrible news of the earthquake. God alone knows what these +three awful days have been to me. Kitty, for the sake of our mother, +and our own happy childhood, say you forgive me." + +"Forgive you?" cried Mummy, between laughing and crying, "why, George +dear, there isn't anything to forgive, and if there ever was I forgave +it long, long ago." And to the utter amazement of the twins, Mummy went +straight into Mr. Brown's outstretched arms, and kissed him. + +"And to think," cried Lill five minutes later, "to think you were Uncle +George all the time, and I said I hated you." + +"Well, you don't hate me any more, you know," said Uncle George, +smiling, and he drew Lill to him, and kissed her tenderly. + +"She is the very image of my little Lilian, Kitty," he said, +tremulously. "I think I loved her from the first moment I saw her, +and yet the very first opinion I heard her express was that uncles in +general were wicked." + +"But I don't think so any more," said Lill, blushing. "Oh, Uncle +George, I think you must be the best man in the world not to be angry +with me for saying such dreadful things, and I love you better than +anybody except Mummy and Jill." + +"Hark!" cried Jill, "there are the bells; they are ringing in the +new year, and the church clock is striking twelve. Happy New Year, +everybody." + +"Happy New Year! Happy New Year!" echoed Uncle George and Lill, and +Mummy added softly, with the tears shining in her eyes-- + +"It is a glad new year for us, but don't let us forget the thousands of +homes rendered desolate by this frightful calamity. God has been very +good to us, and we must be very grateful for our blessings." + +"We have been making good resolutions, Mummy," said Lill. "Mine is to +try not to be unjust and say things about people until I know all their +reasons. What's yours, Jill?" + +"To try to like lessons better, and not give Mummy so much trouble," +said Jill. "Have you made one, Mummy?" + +"Yes, darling, and it is to try to have more faith and to believe that +God knows what is best for us, even when things seem darkest." + +"I have made a resolution, too," said Uncle George. "It is to try to +make three dear people as happy as I can. I have a good deal more +money than I care to spend on myself, and now that my dear wife and +little girl aren't here any longer, I want to share it with the three +people I care most for in the world. Will you help me to carry out my +resolution, Kitty?" + +Mummy didn't answer in words, but she slipped her hand into her +brother's, and the smile she gave him, though a little tremulous, was +very bright and loving. + + + + + HOW REGGIE SAW THE SPHINX + + + + + CHAPTER I + + +The Cunard steamer, _Caronia_, had left Naples, and was making her way +through a high sea, across the Mediterranean to Alexandria. It was very +rough, and before they had left Naples harbor far behind, most of the +passengers who were not proof against seasickness had retired to their +cabins. Reggie's mother, who was a very poor sailor indeed, had been +one of the first ladies to disappear from the deck, and she had been +speedily followed by Reggie's nurse, Ellen. Reggie himself had never +felt better in his life, but he had really tried to be sympathetic. + +"I suppose you can't help it," he remarked in a puzzled tone, as he +stood in the doorway of the cabin he shared with Ellen, and regarded +the maid, who lay prone upon her bed, the picture of misery and +despair. "It does seem very queer, though; I can't see what makes +people feel that way." + +A groan was the only response he received. + +"Well, I guess I'll go and see if I can find Daddy," Reggie went on. +"Perhaps he'll let me stay with him on deck. It's very stuffy down +here." + +Ellen opened her eyes and raised her head from the pillow. + +"Don't you go wandering off by yourself, Master Reggie," she +admonished; "you'll be falling overboard or something dreadful'll +happen to you if you do. O my goodness, this is awful! I shall be dead +before we get to Egypt, that's sure." + +"You do say very silly things, Ellen," remarked Reggie, rather +scornfully. "You know perfectly well you won't be dead when we get to +Egypt. Daddy says people never die of seasickness. You said just the +same thing when we were coming over from America, and when we got to +Rome you said you were so glad you'd come because now you could die +happy, because you'd seen the Pope. I don't see why people are always +saying things they don't mean." + +"Oh, do try and keep still, there's a good little boy! I can't talk; my +head's just ready to burst." + +Reggie sighed. It struck him that nurses were tiresome persons, and +that Ellen in particular was very slow of comprehension. + +"But I don't like it down here," he argued. "It isn't nice; it's +stuffy. I want to go on deck with Daddy." + +"Well, go and ask your mother, then, but I know she won't let you." + +Reggie waited for no second bidding, but darted across the passage to +the cabin occupied by his parents. There he found his mother also lying +upon her bed, and also looking very miserable. + +"Mother," he began eagerly, "may I go on deck and look for Daddy?" + +Mrs. Starr opened her eyes with a faint moan. "Reggie darling, I don't +like to have you running about this ship by yourself. Can't Ellen look +after you?" + +"Sick," said Reggie shortly. + +"O dear, is she sick, too, poor thing? It really is frightfully rough. +Can't you manage to keep still for a little while? Your father will be +coming down before long, and I will ask him to look after you." + +"But I've been still for a very long time. I've looked at all the +pictures in that book Grandma sent me, and I've played three games of +'old maid' all by myself." + +"Will you promise to come back in five minutes unless you find your +father, and will you be very, very careful not to get into any mischief +if I let you go?" + +"Of course, I won't get into any mischief. I'm eight, and Daddy says a +boy of eight ought to be able to take care of himself." + +Mrs. Starr smiled faintly in spite of her suffering. + +"Well, be sure you do take care of yourself, then," she said. "Don't +lean over the railing or go near the machinery, or--" But at that +moment the ship rose on the crest of a big wave and came down again +with a sickening lurch and Mrs. Starr's sentence ended in a groan. + +Reggie gave the required promise and without waiting for any further +directions sped away in search of his cap and warm coat. Five minutes +later he was climbing the stairs that led to the promenade deck. + +It was very beautiful on deck, or at least so it seemed to Reggie. +The sea was very high, and the wind was blowing a stiff gale, but the +afternoon sun was shining brightly, and the great waves seemed to +dance and sparkle beneath its rays. A few ladies were lying back in +steamer chairs but there were not many people about, and Reggie had +no difficulty in discovering his father, standing by the door of the +smoking-room, talking to another gentleman. Reggie was very fond of his +father; he was such a very pleasant person and he never fussed about +wet feet or warm flannels, as his mother and Ellen were apt to do. At +sight of his little son, Mr. Starr smiled and remarked cheerfully-- + +"Hello, young shaver! feeling pretty fit, eh?" + +Reggie liked being called "young shaver," it sounded like something +manly and he promptly thrust his hands into his pockets and assumed his +most grown-up air. + +"I'm all right," he responded, jauntily; "Mother and Ellen aren't, +though." + +"Poor things! I think I had better go and have a look at your mother." + +"She doesn't want anything. She only wants to be left alone, and so +does Ellen. Mother said I might come up here and look for you." + +"Oh, she did, did she? I suppose that means that I must give up my game +of bridge, and look after you for the next hour." + +"Oh, I say, that's too bad!" exclaimed the other gentleman, a +broad-shouldered young Englishman, with sandy hair and mustache. "We +want you to make up our table. Can't the kiddie take care of himself +for a bit?" + +Mr. Starr glanced doubtfully at Reggie. + +"Can I trust you to keep out of mischief if I leave you to yourself for +half an hour?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir," said Reggie, returning his father's questioning glance, +with steady brown eyes. + +"Honor bright?" + +"Honor bright," repeated the little boy, and Mr. Starr was satisfied. + +"Very well," he said. "You may stay here on deck as long as you like, +but don't go anywhere else without letting me know. I shall be right +here in the smoking-room, and when I have finished my game I'll take +you up to see the Marconi station." + +Mr. Starr went into the smoking-room with his friend, and Reggie +sauntered along the deck, feeling very much grown-up indeed. It always +gave him a delightful feeling to have his father trust him, and put him +on his honor. His mother and Ellen never seemed to believe it possible +that he could keep out of mischief if he were not constantly watched, +but when he had looked into his father's eyes, and said "honor bright" +he would no more have broken his word than "the boy on the burning +deck" would have deserted his post. + +He took several turns up and down the deck and as he walked he wondered +whether the people in the steamer chairs were watching him and thinking +what a big, independent boy he was. He tried to whistle, in imitation +of his father, but only succeeded in producing such a very faint sound +that he was afraid nobody heard it. But walking on deck in a high sea +is not very easy, and by the time he had taken half a dozen turns, it +occurred to him that it might be wiser to sit down for a little while. +He was looking out in search of a steamer chair, when his attention +was attracted by the sight of a little girl of about his own age, +leaning out of the window of one of the deck staterooms. She was a +very pretty little girl, with blue eyes, and long yellow hair, and +there was something in her expression that made Reggie feel sure she +would like to talk to somebody. He was not, as a rule, particularly +fond of little girls, and it is probable that had there been any boys +present, he would have passed this one without noticing her, but it +happened that she was, at the moment, the most attractive person in +sight, and Reggie--who was not accustomed to remain silent for long at +a time--paused before the open window, and remarked cheerfully: + +"How do you do?" + +[Illustration: REGGIE PAUSED BEFORE THE OPEN WINDOW.] + +"How do you do?" returned the little girl, and her face brightened. She +was evidently pleased at being spoken to. + +"Are you going to Egypt, too?" Reggie inquired with interest. + +"Yes, of course; that's where the ship's going. Aren't you going there +yourself?" + +"Yes I am. I've come all the way from New York, but we went to Rome and +Naples first. Where did you come from?" + +"From England," said the little girl; "I live near London. Have you +ever been to London?" + +"No, but we're going there in the spring, before we go back to America. +Do you like travelling on ships?" + +"Not much. I never was on a ship before, were you?" + +"Oh, yes; we came over from New York on the _Mauretania_, and that's a +much bigger ship than this one. Are your father and mother seasick?" + +"My father's in Cairo, and my mother died when I was a baby, but my +nurse is very sick, and I'm rather frightened about her; she looks +so queer, and keeps groaning all the time." + +"Oh, there isn't anything to be frightened about," said Reggie, +reassuringly. "Ellen does that all the time, and mother does it a +little, too. I guess ladies are generally seasick on ships, but men +aren't. Why isn't your father on the ship with you?" + +"Because he's a soldier and has to stay with his regiment. There isn't +any one with me but nurse, and that's why it frightened me so to have +her sick. If she should die there wouldn't be any one to take care of +me." + +"She won't die," said Reggie; "seasick people never do. Are you going +to see your father in Cairo?" + +"Yes, that's why we're going there. I don't believe my father was ever +seasick; he's so big and strong and splendid. I haven't seen him since +I was five, but I remember just how he looks." + +"How funny not to see your father since you were five," remarked +Reggie, in a tone of some disapproval. "My father goes to his office +every day, but of course he always comes home in the evening in time +for dinner." + +"But I told you my father is a soldier. He's a colonel, and colonels +can't leave their regiments. He was in India for two years, and then +the regiment was ordered to Egypt, and of course he had to go there." + +"And do you and your nurse live all alone?" Reggie inquired. He did not +think he would enjoy living alone with Ellen. + +"Oh, no, I live with my Aunt Helen, and she's awfully nice and pretty, +but she says I keep her from having a great many good times, because +she has to stay and take care of me. My grand-mamma used to take care +of me, but she died last year, and now there isn't any one but Aunt +Helen. We went to Italy to spend the winter, but when we got to Naples, +Aunt Helen met some friends who wanted her to go to Greece with them. +At first she thought she couldn't go, on account of me, but then she +remembered how my father wanted her to bring me out to Egypt to see +him this winter, and she decided she'd send me right off to Cairo with +Nurse. She didn't have time to write, because her friends wanted to +start for Greece this week, but she telegraphed to my father to meet us +at Alexandria, and we came right off on this ship." + +"I should think you'd love having your father a colonel," said Reggie. +"I suppose you'll see lots of processions while you're in Cairo. Don't +you love processions?" + +"I don't think I ever saw one, but I should like to. My father is a +very brave soldier. They made him a colonel in South Africa, and I +shouldn't be surprised if he got to be a general some day." + +"I hope I shall see him," said Reggie, admiringly. "Perhaps I shall, +for we're going to Cairo, too. What's his name?" + +"Colonel Willoughby, and my name's Phyllis Willoughby. What's yours?" + +"William Reginald Starr, but people generally call me Reggie. I'm going +to be Reginald when I grow up. I say, don't you want to come out? It +must be stuffy in there." + +"I should love to, but I don't believe Nurse would let me; she's so +fussy." + +"Go and ask her. Tell her a boy's going to take care of you. Maybe +she'll let you come then." + +Phyllis looked rather doubtfully at the small figure outside the +window. She thought William Reginald Starr a very grand name, and its +owner certainly had a nice face, but then, he did not look any older +than herself. + +"You're not a very big boy," she remarked sceptically. "How old are +you?" + +"I shall be nine next October." + +"Well, it's only January now, so you're not much more than eight. I was +nine in November. Do you really think you can take care of me?" + +"Of course I can. My father's playing cards in the smoking-room, and +he said I could stay here on deck by myself till he gets through. Come +along. It's great round the other side where the wind blows." + +Phyllis disappeared from the window, but was back again in a moment. + +"Nurse is asleep," she whispered. "I'm afraid it will make her very +cross if I wake her up to ask." + +"Then don't ask, but just come on," said Reggie, recklessly. "Maybe she +won't wake up for ever so long, and then you can tell her it was all my +fault. I'm not afraid of nurses." + +Phyllis hesitated for a moment. She was an obedient child, but the +afternoon had been long and dull, and the temptation was strong. + +"All right," she said, "just wait till I get my coat and hat." + +When Mr. Starr, having finished his game of bridge, came to look for +his small son, he found Reggie sedately pacing the deck, in the company +of a very pretty little girl, with blue eyes and yellow hair. Both +children looked the picture of smiling contentment. + +"Her name's Phyllis Willoughby, and her father's the colonel of a +regiment," Reggie announced by way of introduction. "She's going to +Cairo, because her father lives there, and she hasn't seen him since +she was five. Her nurse is seasick, and her aunt has gone to Greece. +I'm taking care of her." + +"You're beginning early, young man," laughed his father, and the young +Englishman, who had accompanied Mr. Starr from the smoking-room, added: + +"It's the little Willoughby girl. Her father made a name for himself in +South Africa. I know her aunt, nice jolly girl. She's gone to Greece +with a party of friends, and sent the kiddie out here to join her +father in Cairo." + +"Perhaps your little friend would like to inspect the Marconi station +with us," said Mr. Starr, good-naturedly, and Phyllis, who had quite +forgotten about Nurse by this time, readily accepted the invitation. + +Reggie and his father proved two very delightful companions, and +Phyllis spent a most enjoyable half-hour with them, on the hurricane +deck, inspecting the wonderful new invention, which has changed the +whole course of life at sea. It was not until they were on their way +down again, that she suddenly remembered Nurse. + +"I think perhaps I'd better hurry," she said, a little anxiously. "If +Nurse wakes up and doesn't find me, I'm afraid she'll be frightened." + +They quickened their steps, but they were still some distance from the +cabin, when Phyllis saw an approaching figure, at sight of which she +uttered a little gasp of dismay. + +"It's Nurse!" she exclaimed, "and she must be very much frightened +indeed, for she's come out without her false hair, and she's got her +dress on right over her nightie." + +The wrath of Nurse when she caught sight of the little truant, was +truly awful to behold. Even Mr. Starr was rendered speechless beneath +the torrent of reproaches poured upon his head, and poor little Phyllis +was quickly reduced to repentant tears. Reggie alone stood his ground +unflinchingly. + +"It was all my fault," he exclaimed to the irate nurse. "She said you +were asleep, and she didn't want to come, but I said I'd take care +of her, and I did, too, till Daddy came, and then he took care of us +both." But Nurse was not easily appeased. + +"You're a very naughty, disobedient little girl, Miss Phyllis," she +declared. "You shall be put to bed at once, and kept there for the rest +of the day." + +"Well," remarked Reggie to his father, as he watched his little friend +being led away to her cabin in disgrace, "I used to think Ellen was +cross sometimes, but I'm glad she isn't like this one. I'm glad we +haven't got a nurse like that, aren't you, Daddy?" To which his father +responded heartily: + +"I most certainly am, my son." + + + + + CHAPTER II + + +The wind and sea both went down that night, and by noon of the next day +the Mediterranean was as calm as a river. Everybody came on deck, and +the people who had been most seasick the day before, were now among the +liveliest of the passengers. Reggie's mother talked and laughed with +the other ladies, and looked so bright and so pretty, that the little +boy felt very proud of her. + +"I think my mother's the prettiest lady on the ship," he remarked to +Ellen, who had also quite recovered from her indisposition. "None +of the others have such nice eyes or such pretty teeth." To which +Ellen--who adored her mistress--answered readily-- + +"You're right there, Master Reggie. You can go a good way, and not find +any lady to beat your mother in looks." + +Phyllis and Nurse were also on deck, but somehow they did not seem as +cheerful as the other passengers. Nurse was still looking rather pale, +and there was a very stern expression about her mouth, and Phyllis was +decidedly quiet and subdued. + +But Reggie was not easily daunted and as soon as he caught sight of his +little friend of the previous afternoon, he ran to her side, with a +friendly greeting. + +"Hello!" he remarked in his usual cheerful tones. "I'm glad you're out +to-day. Is Nurse better?" + +Phyllis cast a frightened glance at Nurse, but did not answer. + +"Stay right here, Miss Phyllis," commanded Nurse in a very awful voice. +"You are not to go gadding about again with strange children, remember. +We had enough of that business yesterday." + +"I think you are a very disagreeable person," said Reggie, indignantly. +"I wasn't going to take Phyllis anywhere; I was only going to talk to +her." + +"You are the boy who led her into mischief yesterday," said Nurse, with +unabated severity. + +"I didn't lead her into mischief," began Reggie, preparing for an +argument. He was very fond of arguing--a weakness which he inherited +from his father, who was a lawyer. "I only wanted her to come out on +deck, because it was stuffy in the cabin. She wanted to ask you, but +you were asleep, so she couldn't." + +"Well, she's not going to walk the deck with you again, that's +certain," retorted Nurse crossly. "I've had one fright on this ship, +and that's enough to last me for some time to come. Her aunt put her in +my charge, and she's to do what I say till we meet her father." + +"Come here, Master Reggie," called Ellen from her steamer chair. "Don't +you know little boys mustn't stay talking to people who don't want +them?" she added, severely, as Reggie turned reluctantly away from his +new friend. "You leave that little girl alone or I'll speak to your +mother about it." + +Reggie was very much disgusted, and would greatly have enjoyed +continuing the argument for some time longer, but Ellen was firm, and +he was forced to submit to the inevitable. For the rest of that day +the two children continued to exchange longing glances, but neither +one dared speak to the other. The next morning the steamer reached +Alexandria. + +"It's the queerest place I ever saw," Reggie said to his father, as +they stood watching the boat-loads of chattering Arabs swarming on +board. "Why do those people wear such funny clothes? They look like +nighties." + +"I have an idea that you will see a good many unusual sights before we +leave Egypt," said Mr. Starr, laughing. "Those men are Arabs, and that +is their national costume." + +"What's a national costume?" demanded Reggie, who was as fond of asking +questions as he was of arguing. But he did not wait for his father's +answer, for at that moment he caught sight of Phyllis standing only +a short distance off, and, wonderful to relate, she was alone. Next +moment Reggie was at her side. + +"Where's Nurse?" he inquired eagerly. + +"She's gone to see about having the trunk taken down. She says I'm not +to move till she comes back." + +"She didn't say you couldn't talk, though, did she? I've been waiting +to talk to you ever since that afternoon. Was she awfully cross about +it?" + +"Rather. She's the crossest person I ever knew. I don't like her much." + +"I shouldn't think you would," said Reggie, sympathetically. "Has she +been your nurse for a long time?" + +"Oh, no, she only came last summer. The nurse I had before was very +kind, and I loved her, but she went away to be married, and Aunt Helen +engaged this one because she had lived with some friends of hers. The +father of the children Nurse used to take care of was a lord, and she's +always talking about the 'haristocracy.' I don't think she likes us +very much. She says Aunt Helen is frivolous--what does frivolous mean?" + +"I don't know," Reggie admitted reluctantly, "but I'll ask mother. +Aren't those the queerest-looking people you ever saw?" + +"I don't like them," said Phyllis, with a little shudder. "I wish Nurse +would come back. I don't like staying by myself, with all those horrid +black people coming on board." + +"My father and mother are right over there," said Reggie, reassuringly. +"Let's go and stay with them." + +"But Nurse said I mustn't move." + +"Oh, she won't mind. She can see you just as well over there as she can +here." + +Phyllis yielded. She had taken a great fancy to Reggie's pleasant-faced +father, and there was certainly a very comfortable feeling about being +close to somebody grown up, at a time when strange things seemed to +be happening every moment. Mr. Starr greeted the little girl with a +pleasant nod and smile and Reggie's mother--who had heard of Phyllis +and her disagreeable nurse--said, kindly: + +"Is this your little friend, Reggie dear?" + +"Yes," said Reggie; "her nurse has gone to see about the trunk, and she +doesn't like staying by herself, on account of all those funny black +men." + +At that moment a very tall Arab approached, and bowing low to Mr. and +Mrs. Starr, inquired, with a grin-- + +"Lady, gentleman, want dragoman? I very fine dragoman; good recommend." + +Phyllis shrank close to Mrs. Starr, with a little gasp of horror, and +even Reggie was somewhat startled, but Mr. Starr only smiled. + +"No, I thank you," he said pleasantly. "My dragoman is to meet me in +Cairo." Whereupon, the Arab bowed again, and walked away. + +"What's a dragoman?" Reggie inquired with interest. + +"A man who takes people about in Egypt, looks after their luggage, and +makes himself generally useful. A dragoman is a most important person +here, as not many foreigners understand the language or the customs. +Ah, here comes the tender to take us on shore." + +Reggie gave a little skip of delight. + +"I think Egypt's great," he declared. "I'm awfully glad we came; aren't +you, Phyllis?" + +"Ye--yes," said Phyllis, doubtfully. "It's rather queer, though, don't +you think so? I don't like quite so many black people. I wish my father +would hurry and come." + +"Do you expect to meet your father at Alexandria?" Mrs. Starr asked +kindly. + +"Yes, I think so. Aunt Helen telegraphed him we were coming on this +ship, and she said she was sure he would be here to meet us. Here comes +Nurse; I hope she won't scold." + +But Nurse was far too much absorbed in her own grievances to have any +thoughts to spare for her little charge. She was laden with bags and +wraps and her crimson cheeks and flashing eyes assured Phyllis of the +fact that Nurse was very angry. + +"Will you be so good as to tell me, sir, if you please, where I'm to +find a porter to help me with these things?" she demanded of Mr. Starr, +without even glancing at Phyllis. "I don't see any one around here but +black men in heathen clothes, and I don't care to trust my property to +them." + +"They are all right," said Mr. Starr, with difficulty repressing his +desire to laugh. "They will take just as good care of your property as +any one else." + +Nurse tossed her head indignantly. + +"One of them tried to snatch a bag out of my hand," she said, "but I +told him I'd call the police if he didn't leave it alone. Not that I +suppose there are any police in this heathen land." + +"Keep close to us, and I will see that you are not troubled in that +way again," said Mr. Starr, good-naturedly, determined for Phyllis's +sake, to ignore past unpleasantness. "The tender is just coming, and +we shall be going on shore in a few minutes. Has your trunk been taken +downstairs?" + +"It's down, but goodness knows whether I shall ever lay eyes on it +again or not. If I had known what kind of a place it was that Miss +Willoughby was sending me to, I would never--" But the rest of Nurse's +sentence was drowned in a tremendous blast from the steamer's whistle +as, at that moment, the tender, which was to land the passengers, came +puffing up to the side of the big ship. + +"Do you see your father, Phyllis?" Reggie inquired, eagerly. + +"I don't know; I don't see any gentleman who looks like his picture." +Phyllis's heart was beating fast, and she was trembling with excitement. + +"Perhaps he'll be waiting on the shore with his regiment," Reggie +suggested. + +"I don't believe he would bring his regiment with him, do you?" said +Phyllis, doubtfully. + +"I guess he could if he wanted to. Soldiers have to do just what +their colonels tell them to. Perhaps he'll want to give you a royal +reception, like they're going to give President Roosevelt when he comes +home from Africa. He must be pretty excited about seeing you; you've +been away so long. Mother says if she hadn't seen me since I was five, +and I came all of a sudden, the way you are doing, she thinks she would +die of joy." + +"Oh!" said Phyllis, and looked very much impressed. She had not been +accustomed to think of herself as a person of such importance that any +one would be likely to die of joy at her arrival. Her aunt was a busy +woman, much absorbed in her own affairs, and though always kind to the +child, had never paid very much attention to her, and her grandmother +had been an invalid for years before her death, so Phyllis had known +little of the petting so familiar to most little girls. + +It was evident that Phyllis's father was not on the tender. Neither was +he to be seen on the pier, when the passengers had been safely landed, +and were standing in the midst of a crowd of jostling, screaming +Arabs, waiting to take their places in the train which was to carry +them to Cairo. Phyllis was sure she would recognize her father by his +photograph, he having sent a new one to Aunt Helen only a few weeks +before. She appeared equally certain that he would recognize her by the +same means and explained that her aunt had sent him her picture in a +silver frame for a Christmas present. + +"Perhaps we shall find him at the station in Cairo," Mr. Starr +suggested. "If he had come to Alexandria we should certainly have found +him here." + +Nurse, whose temper had not been improved by the landing, which she had +found somewhat difficult, owing to her numerous belongings, which she +had steadily refused to relinquish to any of the native porters, gave +a reluctant consent when Mr. Starr proposed that they should get into +the Cairo train, and they all entered a first-class carriage together. +By this time Mr. and Mrs. Starr had made up their minds not to lose +sight of Phyllis until they had seen her safely in her father's care. +Nurse settled herself in one corner of the carriage, with a grunt of +disgust, and Ellen--who was not much better pleased with her first +impressions of Egyptian life than Nurse had been, ensconced herself in +the opposite corner. Mr. and Mrs. Starr, however, were in excellent +spirits, and quite prepared to enjoy every moment, and the two children +found the journey a most interesting one. There were so many strange +new sights to be seen from the carriage windows. The flat, barren +landscape, the natives at work in the fields, and, strangest of all, +the tall camels ridden by Arabs and laden with packs of goods. Reggie +was deeply interested in all he saw and plied his father with questions +at the rate, Mr. Starr laughingly declared, of three a second. The +Starrs were very kind to Phyllis, and the little girl soon lost all +shyness, and chatted away with far more freedom than she would have +done to her aunt at home. + +"You are not a bit afraid of your father, are you?" she said +wonderingly to Reggie, when the two children were being regaled with a +light lunch of sandwiches and sponge cakes, with which Mrs. Starr had +provided herself before leaving the steamer. + +"Of course not," said Reggie, indignantly. "What a silly question. +People aren't ever afraid of their fathers." + +"Aren't they?" said Phyllis, in a tone of relief. "I thought they +were sometimes. I think I shall be a little afraid of mine, but then +I haven't seen him in such a long time, and of course that makes a +difference." + +"That's all the more reason why he's sure to be awfully good to you," +affirmed Reggie. "Daddy went away yachting once. He was gone nearly a +month, and when he came home he brought me the grandest Indian suit +you ever saw, and took me fishing the very next day. You can't think +how good fathers and mothers are when they haven't seen you in a good +while." + +"I remember my father pretty well," said Phyllis. "He was very big +and strong, and he laughed a great deal. He used to give me rides on +his shoulder, and I liked it, only I was frightened sometimes when he +tossed me up in the air, and pretended he was going to hit my head +against the ceiling. He sends me beautiful presents, and once he wrote +me such a nice, funny letter." + +"He must be great!" was Reggie's cheerful comment, and nothing more +was said on the subject of fathers during the rest of the journey. But +when they had reached the station at Cairo, and were being pushed and +jostled, and yelled at, by a crowd of native drivers, and still Colonel +Willoughby did not appear, matters began to look more serious. Nurse +became almost hysterical in her agitation, and talked so fast and so +loud, that she was quite the centre of attraction. + +"And what am I to do, I'd like to know?" she demanded. "Here I am in a +heathen land, with that child on my hands, and her father nowhere to be +found." + +"There must be some mistake," Mr. Starr said soothingly. "You had +better come to the hotel with us, and we will make inquiries. You are +sure the little girl's aunt sent the telegram before you left Naples?" + +"She said so, but she's that light-headed and frivolous--excuse me +saying it of a lady, but it's true all the same--that there's no +telling if she mightn't have sent it to the wrong address in her hurry." + +"You have Colonel Willoughby's address, I suppose?" Mr. Starr asked a +little anxiously. + +"Oh, yes, sir, I've got it all wrote down on a card, but I can't get at +it this minute, for it's sewed inside with the money." + +"Well, we will go to the hotel first, and then you can give me the +address, and I am sure we shall soon be in communication with Phyllis's +father." + +At that moment the young Englishman with whom Mr. Starr had played +bridge on the steamer, joined the group, attracted by Nurse's loud +protestations. + +"What's the row?" he inquired good-naturedly, and Mr. Starr explained +the situation in a few words. + +"By Jove!" exclaimed the young man, when he had heard the story, +"that's just like Helen Willoughby. A charming girl, but with about +as much sense in practical matters as a kitten. Fortunately I know +Willoughby's address, so there's no great harm done, but to send a +child of that size off to a strange country, without even waiting to +hear from her father first, is just a little too much." + +Mrs. Starr privately considered Miss Willoughby a very dreadful person +indeed, and her kind heart yearned over little motherless Phyllis. + +The drive through the Cairo streets to the hotel, was a very +interesting one, and as soon as Mr. Starr had seen his family settled +in their rooms, he hurried away in quest of Colonel Willoughby, leaving +Phyllis in his wife's care. + +"It's the wonderfulest place in the world!" announced Reggie, bounding +into the sitting-room from the balcony, where he had been stationed for +the past ten minutes. "Come out and look at the camels and donkeys, +Phyllis. Say, mother, can't I ride a donkey to-morrow?" + +But Phyllis--who was nestled comfortably in Mrs. Starr's lap--appeared +to have lost her interest in camels and donkeys. + +"I want to stay here," she said, decidedly; "it's so comfortable." + +"Don't you want to come out and watch for your father? I don't suppose +he'll have time to bring the regiment now, if he didn't know you were +coming." + +"No," said Phyllis, and she hid her face on Mrs. Starr's shoulder, in a +sudden access of shyness. + +"You are not afraid of anything, are you, darling?" Reggie's mother +asked, tenderly. + +"N--no," said Phyllis, doubtfully, "I'm not exactly afraid, but--but do +you think perhaps my father didn't want me to come, and that's why he +wasn't at the steamer?" + +"No, indeed, I don't think anything of the sort," said Mrs. Starr, with +decision, her arms instinctively tightening about the little figure in +her lap. "Why, didn't you tell us your father had asked your aunt to +let you come and make him a visit?" + +"Yes, but that was before Christmas, and he wanted Aunt Helen to bring +me herself. I thought he might have changed his mind. Aunt Helen very +often changes her mind about things." + +"I am quite sure he hasn't changed his mind," said Mrs. Starr, +cheerfully. "There has been some mistake about the telegram, but it +will soon be explained. Now, wouldn't you like to run out on the +balcony with Reggie while Ellen and I unpack?" + +It was very fascinating on the balcony, and in her interest in all +the new, strange sights, Phyllis almost forgot her anxiety about her +father. Indeed, it was not until she heard Mr. Starr's voice in the +sitting-room, that her heart began to beat uncomfortably fast again. + +"Daddy's back!" exclaimed Reggie, at the same moment. "Perhaps he's +brought your father with him." And he darted in through the open +window, followed more slowly by his little companion. + +But there was nobody there but Mr. Starr, and he was talking earnestly +to Nurse. + +"Colonel Willoughby evidently never received his sister's telegram," +Reggie and Phyllis heard him saying. "It seems, he started on a camping +trip in the desert about ten days ago, and is not expected back for +another week." + +"Another week!" shrieked Nurse, throwing up her hands in horror. "And +whatever is to become of us here in this heathen, outlandish place, +all by ourselves, for a whole week? I'll take the next ship back to +England, that's what I'll do, and I'll give Miss Willoughby warning +the minute I set eyes on her. I ain't strong, I never was, and such +excitement and worriment as this is enough to kill a body outright!" + +"I think you would be extremely foolish to rush back to England before +Colonel Willoughby returns," said Mr. Starr, quietly, but with a +twinkle in his eye. "Seems to me your wisest plan will be to remain +where you are for the next few days. Mrs. Starr and I expect to spend +some time in the neighborhood of Cairo, and we shall be very glad to +look after you and little Phyllis until Colonel Willoughby comes home." + +Nurse looked somewhat mollified. + +"You're very kind, sir, I'm sure," she said, in a milder tone. "It +would be a great relief to my mind, for I ain't accustomed to foreign +ways, I've always lived in the best English families, sir, as I've got +testimonials to show, and I never was hustled off at a minute's notice +to a heathen country full of black people before." + +"Very well, then, we will consider the matter settled," said Mr. Starr, +cutting short Nurse's harangue with scant ceremony. "I will go and see +about engaging a room for you at once." + +"Nurse," said Phyllis that evening, when she was being undressed, "I +think American fathers and mothers must love their children very much +indeed. Reggie asked his father twenty-seven questions while you and +Ellen were at your supper, and he answered every single one." + +"Indeed, and I hope you won't learn bad habits from that spoiled little +American boy," was Nurse's indignant rejoinder. "A nice time we should +have with you if you started asking questions at that rate." + +"I don't suppose you would be able to answer them," said Phyllis +reflectively, at which Nurse said nothing, but gave vent to her +feelings by an indignant sniff. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + +It was so hot in the hotel garden that Nurse and Ellen, not always the +best of friends, had agreed for once, and declared another game of +"Horse" to be quite out of the question. + +"You'll be getting a sunstroke the next thing," grumbled Nurse, "and +then what'll your father say when he comes? No, Miss Phyllis, you +needn't say another word. You're not going to stay out in this broiling +sun any longer, or Master Reggie either. You're both coming in the +house, to keep quiet till Mr. and. Mrs. Starr come home." + +"But Daddy and Mother won't be back before dinner-time, and it isn't +more than four o'clock now," persisted Reggie. "There isn't a thing to +do in that stupid old hotel. Please let us stay out on the terrace, +even if we can't play 'Horse' any longer--please do, Ellen." + +Ellen, who was much more good-natured than Nurse, hesitated. + +"We might let them play quietly on the hotel terrace," she suggested +rather timidly, for at the bottom of her heart Ellen stood very much in +awe of Nurse. "The band's going to play while the people have tea, and +it'll be nice to listen to the music." + +Nurse really had no objection to sitting on the hotel veranda, while +the orchestra played, and the guests took their afternoon tea, except +that she always objected on principle to every plan that she had +not herself suggested. So she gave a grudging consent, and they all +adjourned to the cool terrace, where the tea-tables were being set +out, and the musicians were tuning up their instruments. It was nearly +a week since they had landed in Egypt, and two days before Mr. Starr +had moved his party to a hotel a little out of Cairo, and close to the +great Pyramids. It was rather hot in Cairo, and the children had found +the change to a purer air very agreeable. Besides, this hotel had a +garden, in which they spent a good part of the day, playing "Horse," a +game of which Reggie in particular, was extremely fond. To-day Mr. and +Mrs. Starr had gone with a party of American friends, to visit some +more distant pyramids, and the children and nurses were left alone at +the hotel. + +"I do like to look at the ladies' pretty dresses," Ellen remarked, with +a little sigh of content, as a party of prettily dressed English girls +took their places at one of the tables. + +"I don't care much about people's dresses," returned Nurse, crossly. +"Things I can't have myself never interest me. The thing I should care +for more than anything else at this minute would be a good cup of tea." + +"They serve tea in the maids' dining-room every afternoon at half-past +four," said Ellen. "It must be just about that time now. I've a great +mind to run and get a cup myself. Would you mind staying here with the +children till I come back?" + +"I could go any time I chose," retorted Nurse, airily. "Miss Phyllis +would never think of stirring from here if I told her not to. You +couldn't say as much for the boy, I suppose." + +Now Ellen was really very fond of Reggie, and she resented the implied +doubt in Nurse's tone. + +"He's a very obedient little fellow," she maintained, stoutly, "and a +sweeter-dispositioned child you wouldn't find in a hurry, I can tell +you." + +"Well, then, what's to prevent our leaving them here, while we both +just step down for a cup of tea? We won't be gone ten minutes." + +The band had by this time struck up a lively march, which quite drowned +the voices of the two women, and the children had no idea what they +were talking about and were much surprised to see both their guardians +rise at once, and to hear Nurse's voice, raised so as to be heard above +the music, informing them that she and Ellen were going to the maids' +dining-room for a cup of tea, and that they were on no account to stir +from the terrace until they came back. Nurse did not wait for any +reply, but hurried away, followed by the more reluctant Ellen. + +"Don't you think Nurse is the most disagreeable person you have ever +seen?" inquired Reggie, as the figures of the two women disappeared +from view. + +"She's pretty disagreeable," Phyllis admitted, with a sigh; "Ellen is +much nicer." + +"Ellen's all right sometimes, but Nurse puts ideas into her head, and +that makes her disagreeable too. It was mean of them to make us stop +playing 'Horse,' just when we were having such fun, and those sticks +with horse-hair on the end, that the people use to shoo away the flies, +did make such splendid tails. It wasn't a bit hotter than it often is +at home in summer, and Daddy says it does people good to be out in the +sun." + +"It wasn't fair, either," said Phyllis, in a deeply aggrieved tone. + +"They made us stop just when it was your turn to be Horse. I'd been +Horse all the afternoon, and it's ever so much more fun to be Driver." + +"They're not fair about a great many things," said Reggie, his +indignation rising at the memory of more injustice. "They haven't taken +us for a walk since we came here, and of course we don't want to stay +in the old garden all day. I asked Ellen very nicely this morning, if +she wouldn't please take us to see the Pyramids and the Sphinx again, +and she was just going to say 'Yes' when Nurse said she'd like to see +herself walking about among all those black heathens, and then Ellen +said she was afraid, and we'd have to stay in the garden till Daddy and +Mother came home. It isn't fair. We've only seen the Sphinx once, and +Daddy says it's one of the most interesting things in Egypt." + +"The Sphinx is rather ugly, don't you think so?" said Phyllis, +doubtfully. "I dreamed about it last night, and it wasn't a nice dream. +I like the Pyramids better." + +"I don't think the Sphinx is ugly," returned Reggie. "I think it's just +queer. Daddy says I must keep my eyes open all the time, and remember +everything I see, so I can tell people about them when I go home. He +says travelling educates people as much as going to school, but I don't +see how I'm going to get educated if Ellen won't take me to see things." + +"It isn't far to the Pyramids," observed Phyllis, with a glance in +the direction of the great stone marvels, which can be seen for miles +around. "It would only take a few minutes to walk there." + +"I wish we could go by ourselves," said Reggie. "We could just as well +as not, if they would only let us. It isn't any further than Bobby +Campbell's house is from ours in New York, and I always go there by +myself." + +"Who's Bobby Campbell?" Phyllis inquired, with interest. + +"He's my best friend. He's nine, and I'm going to his school next year. +We always go to each other's houses by ourselves. At first mother was +afraid I might get run over crossing the street, but Daddy said it was +nonsense, and that boys must learn to take care of themselves, so now +she always lets me go." + +"Ellen and Nurse would never let us go out by ourselves here," said +Phyllis, with conviction. + +"Of course they wouldn't, they're such sillies, but we might do it some +time when they weren't around. We'd only go as far as the Sphinx and I +don't believe Daddy would mind." + +"It would be fun," Phyllis admitted, "if we were sure the black people +wouldn't hurt us." + +"Pooh!" said Reggie, in a tone of infinite scorn. "You certainly are a +great baby, Phyllis, even if you are nine. Those Arabs are very good +people, even if they are black. I know a boy at home whose family have +a colored coachman, and he's just as nice as he can be. He's taught Joe +to drive, and lets him come into the stable whenever he likes. Then +there's Abdul, our dragoman. I heard mother tell Daddy she thought +Abdul had a beautiful smile, and you know how kind he was yesterday +when we rode the donkeys. Nobody would be afraid of an Arab except +sillies like Nurse and Ellen." + +"I'm not really afraid," declared Phyllis, who was feeling a good deal +ashamed of her momentary doubts. "I'd just as lief as not walk as far +as the Sphinx by ourselves." + +"Well, let's do it," said Reggie, with a sudden inspiration. "It +wouldn't take but a few minutes, and it would be such fun." + +Phyllis gave a little gasp of excitement. "Do you mean to do it now, +this minute?" she demanded, incredulously. + +"Yes, why not? We may never get another chance. They've gone off for +tea, and you know how long that always takes them. Just as likely as +not they'll be back before we are, and then won't they be surprised +when they hear where we've been?" + +"But Nurse told us not to stir till she came back," faltered Phyllis, +feeling a little frightened, though her eyes were sparkling with +mischievous anticipation. + +"But we didn't promise. Of course if we'd promised we couldn't do it, +but they didn't even wait for us to answer. I'm going, any way, but you +can stay here if you want to." + +"If you go I'm going, too," declared Phyllis, stoutly. "Nurse will +scold dreadfully, and perhaps she'll put me to bed, but it's pretty +near bedtime, anyway, and I'm tired, so I don't care. Are you sure your +father and mother won't be angry?" + +"Daddy won't, he likes to have me do grown-up things. Mother might be +a little bit worried if she knew about it, but we shall be back ages +before she comes home. Besides, Daddy can generally talk her round. +Come along, we've got to hurry if we want to get back before Ellen and +Nurse." + +All this time the orchestra had been playing very loud, and in +consequence none of the other people on the terrace had overheard +the children's conversation. A few of the ladies glanced carelessly +at the two little figures, as they rose from their seats, and walked +resolutely down the steps, and away in the direction of the gate, but +no one imagined for a moment that they contemplated anything more +daring than a stroll about the hotel grounds. + +"What an attractive child that little girl is!" one lady remarked +carelessly, and her companion answered: + +"Yes, and the boy is a manly little fellow, too. I wonder who they are. +They haven't been here more than a day or two." + +"It's a lucky thing they didn't make us take off our hats when they +brought us in," remarked Reggie, as they walked briskly down the path. +"The sun is pretty hot, isn't it?" + +"I don't mind it a bit," returned Phyllis, determined that her +companion should not have an opportunity of pronouncing her a baby +again. "I can walk a long way. I walked six miles with Aunt Helen once. +We went to have tea with some people, and lost our way coming home. +Aunt Helen was a little frightened when it began to get dark, but I +wasn't frightened a bit. We got home all right, and Aunt Helen let me +stay and warm myself by the drawing-room fire, and it was so nice and +comfy." + +"You're all right, for a girl," remarked Reggie, and considered that he +had paid his little friend a very high compliment. + +It was really only a short distance to the first of the great pyramids +which have been one of the wonders of the world for ages. In less than +ten minutes from the time they left the hotel, the children were in the +midst of a busy, chattering crowd, composed of tourists, donkey and +camel boys, sellers of mummy beads and other curiosities, and beggars +of every description. Such a scene would have frightened many children, +but a week in Cairo had accustomed Reggie and Phyllis to the strange +sights and sounds of the country, and on a visit paid to the pyramids +on the previous day, Mr. Starr had assured them there was nothing to be +afraid of. So Reggie pushed on manfully, holding firmly to Phyllis's +hand, until they stood in the shadow of the great Pyramid. + +"My, but it's high!" exclaimed Reggie, gazing up at the mighty +structure. "Don't you wonder how they got all those great stones here, +and who put them up?" + +"Perhaps the fairies did it by magic," suggested Phyllis, who had +not outgrown her belief in fairy tales, but Reggie looked scornfully +incredulous. + +"Of course they didn't," he said with an air of superior wisdom. "Men +did it, but it was so long ago that nobody knows how they managed, or +what sort of machinery they had. I wish Daddy would let me climb to the +top." + +"You might fall down and get killed," suggested the more prudent +Phyllis. "I wouldn't do it for anything." + +"Of course you wouldn't. Girls are never brave. I could climb that +pyramid just as easy--as easy as anything, if Daddy would only let me." + +"Well, he won't let you; he said so yesterday, so what's the use +talking about it? Besides, girls do brave things just as well as boys. +Nurse read me a story about a little girl who stopped a train, and +saved a great many people's lives." + +At that moment they were accosted by a very objectionable looking +beggar who, in a whining voice, demanded "Backsheesh," which is the +Egyptian way of asking for pennies. Neither of them had any money, +so Reggie shook his head violently, while Phyllis retreated behind +her companion, not liking the beggar's appearance. The beggar scowled +fiercely, and muttering a few angry words, turned away in search of +more promising prey. + +"He swore at us, Reggie, I'm sure he did," whispered Phyllis, who had +turned rather pale. + +"How do you know it was swearing?" demanded Reggie, his eyes beginning +to flash. + +"Because a beggar in Naples spoke just like that to Aunt Helen, when +she wouldn't give him any pennies, and she said it was swearing. I +don't like being sworn at. Let's hurry home." + +"Hurry home!" repeated Reggie, incredulously. "Why, we haven't been +anywhere yet. We've got to go as far as the Sphinx." + +"Oh, I don't believe we'd better, I really don't, Reggie. Suppose Nurse +and Ellen come back and don't find us, think how frightened they'll be. +I don't like to frighten people." + +"I don't mind, at least not when they're such sillies as Ellen and +Nurse. Besides, they won't have long to be frightened. We'll go right +home just as soon as we've seen the Sphinx. Come along, and don't be a +goose." + +Phyllis yielded. Reggie was the first little boy she had ever known +intimately in her life, and she was very anxious to stand well in +his good opinion. Besides, she had almost as much faith in Reggie's +judgment as in that of his father. A boy who was allowed, nay, even +encouraged by his parents, to ask questions, and who was allowed to +talk at the table, and to go out in the street alone, must, she was +convinced, be a very important young person indeed. If she refused to +go any further, the probabilities were that Reggie, in his turn, would +refuse to play with her for hours, if not days, and that would mean the +end of all things. So she stifled a sigh, and resolutely prepared to +follow her more venturesome companion. + +The road from the hotel to the Pyramids was hard and comparatively easy +walking, but when they had turned their steps in the direction of the +mammoth stone figure, known to all the world as the Sphinx, they were +obliged to leave the path behind them, and plod through the deep sand +of the desert. It was difficult walking for the unaccustomed little +feet, and Phyllis was soon very tired, though not for worlds would she +have admitted the fact to Reggie. + +"It seems much longer than it did when we were on the donkeys, doesn't +it?" she panted, plodding bravely on through the soft, yielding sand. +"Do you suppose it's much further?" + +"It's right here," encouraged Reggie, cheerfully. "My, how you do pant!" + +"I'm sorry I do, but I can't help it," said Phyllis, apologetically. "I +never walked in this kind of sand before. The sand at the seaside is +much harder." + +Reggie made no answer. The fact was, he was finding the walk a more +difficult one than he liked, but he did not care to admit the fact to +his little companion. + +A few minutes more, and they had reached their destination, and +were standing before the great figure, which has interested so many +thousands of people for centuries. It was very grand and awe inspiring, +with the rays of the setting sun falling full upon it, and even two +little children like Reggie and Phyllis could not but be impressed +with the wonder of it all. They had left the greater part of the crowd +behind, and only a few natives were loitering about. One man wanted to +sell them some mummy beads, and another offered to tell their fortunes, +but when Reggie shook his head, and said "Imshie," a word he had heard +their dragoman use, and which he believed meant "go away," they both +moved on, and the children were left in peace. + +"It seems as if the Sphinx must be thinking about something, doesn't +it?" said Phyllis, in an awed whisper, and she drew a little nearer to +her companion as she spoke. + +"Do you suppose it was alive once, and some wicked fairy turned it into +stone?" + +"I don't know," said Reggie. "It must have been a giant if it ever was +alive. Daddy says nobody knows who made it. It was buried in the sand +for hundreds of years, and at last some people found it and dug it out. +It kept getting covered again for a long time, and they had to keep +digging it out, but now they don't let it happen any more." + +"I think it must be getting rather late," said Phyllis, with an anxious +glance at the setting sun. "Oh, Reggie, look at that sunset! Did you +ever see such a beautiful one?" + +"It is pretty, isn't it?" said Reggie, who was not as much interested +in sunsets as he was in some other things. "I wonder what makes the sky +look like that." + +"I don't know," said Phyllis, reflectively. "Perhaps God has a golden +lamp in his dining-room, and the angels light it every evening at +supper time, only cloudy nights we can't see it. I don't believe they +ever have cloudy nights in Egypt; the sky always looks so blue." + +"I guess perhaps we'd better not stay here any longer," said Reggie, +with a sudden recollection. "It gets dark pretty soon after the sun +sets." + +Phyllis looked a little frightened. + +"I shouldn't like to be out after dark," she said. "Were you ever out +by yourself after dark?" + +"No, I never happened to be," Reggie admitted, reluctantly. "I wouldn't +be a bit afraid, though. Come along; I guess we'd better hurry a +little." + +But it was no easy matter to hurry in that soft sand, and though they +both plodded along bravely, they seemed to make but little progress. + +"I didn't notice the sand was so deep when we came, did you?" panted +Reggie, when they had been walking for fully ten minutes in silence, +and the sand appeared to be growing softer and more yielding at every +step. "No, I didn't," said Phyllis, suddenly stopping short. "Are you +sure we're going the right way, Reggie?" + +"Of course we are," said Reggie. "There isn't but one way to go, and +it's so flat you can see for ever so far." But he looked a little +startled at the suggestion, nevertheless. + +They plodded on for another five minutes, and then suddenly, to +Reggie's utter horror and consternation, Phyllis sat flat down in the +sand and began to cry. + +"I can't walk any more," she sobbed; "my feet are so tired, and my +shoes are all full of sand. Besides, I'm quite sure this isn't the way +back to the hotel." + +Reggie was filled with dismay. + +"Well of all the sillies!" he began. "Look here, Phyllis, you've got to +come on. We can't stay here. It's getting later all the time, and it's +going to be dark in a few minutes." + +"I don't want to stay here," wailed poor little Phyllis. "I want to go +back to the hotel, but we're lost, I know we are, and it's so hard to +walk in this dreadful sand." + +"No, we're not lost either," Reggie maintained, stoutly. "I know the +way all right, and if you'll only stop being a silly, and come along, +we'll be home in a few minutes." + +Thus urged, Phyllis rose and dried her eyes. Then she looked about +hopelessly. + +"Which way did we come?" she inquired. "It all looks just the same, +and those big sand hills hide everything, so we can't tell whether +we've been here before or not." + +Reggie was secretly a good deal troubled, but he assumed a cheerful +confidence, and they trudged on for another five minutes. Then it was +Reggie himself who paused. + +"I guess we'd better ask somebody the way," he said. "I shouldn't like +to take you too far." + +"But there isn't anybody to ask," said Phyllis, looking across the wide +stretch of sand, on which, at the moment, there was not a human being +to be seen. "Besides, those horrid Arabs don't understand any English. +Oh, Reggie, what shall we do?" And Phyllis began to cry again. + +"We may meet some English people if we keep on a little further," said +Reggie, bravely determined to look on the bright side of things. "There +were plenty of them around by the Pyramids. Besides, some of the Arabs +do speak English. That man who wanted to tell our fortunes talked all +right." + +"But suppose we don't meet any people at all, what shall we do then? We +can't stay out here all night, and everybody will be so frightened if +we don't come home soon." + +"I know they will," said Reggie, looking grave. "I wish we hadn't +come, but it seemed so easy; I never thought of getting lost. I'm glad +Daddy and Mother won't get home till late. I shouldn't like Mother to +be frightened." + +"What are you going to do about it?" inquired Phyllis, instinctively +turning to the stronger nature for guidance. + +Reggie reflected for a moment, and glanced anxiously at the rapidly +deepening twilight. + +"I guess we'd better keep on," he said. "We may meet somebody in a few +minutes, and perhaps we're going the right way all the time. I wish it +didn't get dark quite so soon after the sun goes down. It never does +that way at home." + +For another ten minutes they struggled on. Then, suddenly from over the +top of a low sand hill, they caught sight of a cluster of native mud +huts. Reggie gave vent to a sort of relief. + +"Now we shall find some people," he announced joyfully. "I knew it +would be all right if we just kept on a little longer." + +But Phyllis was not so easily pleased. + +"I don't like to go down there," she protested, drawing back; "it looks +so very dirty." + +"Never mind," said Reggie, encouragingly. "They won't hurt us, and +we'll only have to stay long enough to ask some one to tell us the way +back to the hotel. Come on!" And to Phyllis's horror, her companion +began running down the sand hill, into the very midst of the native +village. She was afraid to be left alone, so she followed, with a +wildly beating heart, and almost before either of them realized what +was happening to them, they were the centre of a group of excited +native children, who in their astonishment at finding a little white +boy and girl suddenly in their midst, swarmed about them like so many +flies. + +"Backsheesh, backsheesh, backsheesh!" screamed the little Arabs, +stretching out their grimy hands. + +"Imshie, imshie!" shouted Reggie, indignantly, waving them away, and +trying to protect Phyllis's dainty white dress from too close contact +with the objectionable little natives. "We haven't got any backsheesh, +and you mustn't crowd so much, it isn't polite. Isn't there anybody +here who can speak English?" + +The children stared, and began chattering very fast, but neither Reggie +nor Phyllis could understand a word of what they said. At last one of +the larger boys seized Reggie by the arm, and began dragging him along +with him. Phyllis screamed with terror, but Reggie stood his ground +manfully. + +"I think he's only going to take us to somebody who talks English," he +said, reassuringly. "I guess we'd better go with him." + +Phyllis did not feel at all sure that her companion was right, but she +was far too much frightened to be left alone in that dreadful place, +so she, too, followed. The boy led them to one of the mud huts, the +entrance to which was so low that it was necessary to creep in on all +fours. He said something to somebody inside; there was an answer, and +then the boy stood aside, and made a sign to the children to enter. + +Phyllis screamed again, and grasped Reggie's arm firmly. + +"You shan't go in that dreadful place!" she cried in terror. "Perhaps +they're cannibals, and will eat us up. Oh, please come away, please do!" + +At that moment, there emerged from the hut a boy of about twelve, +dressed in the native costume, and leaning on a stick. He was evidently +lame, for he moved very slowly, and with great difficulty, but he was +smiling pleasantly, and he bowed low to the two little strangers. + +"I can English story tell," he said in a sweet, clear voice. "I in +English school go." + +"Oh, do you?" cried Reggie, in a tone of heartfelt relief. "I'm so glad +to find somebody who talks English. Will you please tell us the way +back to the Pyramids and the hotel? I'm afraid we're lost, and it's +getting so late." + +The lame boy listened courteously, and continued to smile. When Reggie +had finished speaking he went on quietly. + +"The sun shines in the sky by day. The moon shines in the sky by night. +The sun is warm. The sun makes the flowers to grow. The moon is cold. +The moon does not make grow the beautiful flowers." + +The boy paused, still smiling, and waited patiently for praise or +backsheesh, whichever might be forthcoming. Reggie was very much +puzzled. + +"I asked you the way back to the hotel," he said rather indignantly. +"We know all about the sun and the moon; you needn't tell us that." + +The boy bowed courteously, and murmured something in his own language. + +"I don't believe he knows any more English," exclaimed Reggie, with a +sudden inspiration. "He's learned that in school, the same as we learn +French fables." + +"He must know more than that," declared Phyllis, desperately. "Perhaps +he'll understand if we talk broken English to him--the kind Abdul +talks. We lost, boy; we want go back hotel." + +A light of comprehension dawned in the boy's face, but he shook his +head sadly. Evidently his small stock of English had already been +exhausted. + +"O dear! what shall we do now?" cried Phyllis, beginning to cry again +in her despair. "None of them speak English." + +Reggie looked helpless, but made one more effort. + +"Show us hotel," he said, still clinging desperately to Phyllis's +broken English. "My father give big backsheesh." + +At the words, "my father," the boy smiled brightly. + +"My father can English story tell," he announced, proudly. + +Reggie was somewhat relieved, but Phyllis said mournfully-- + +"If it's all about the sun and the moon I don't see any use." + +"Where is your father?" inquired Reggie, anxiously. + +The boy seemed to understand this question, for he smiled again and +pointed out over the desert. + +"I suppose he means his father is somewhere out there," said Reggie. "I +wish we knew how soon he'll be back." + +"I don't see what good it would do if he came home," said Phyllis, with +a sob. "Perhaps he only knows fables, too. Let's come away from here; +it's a horrid place." + +But Reggie was of a different opinion. + +"I guess we'd better wait a little while," he said, "in case his father +does come home. He may be able to understand what we want, and we can't +go back to the hotel by ourselves; we don't know the way, and it's +getting very dark." + +Phyllis burst into an uncontrollable fit of crying. + +"I don't want to stay here," she wailed. "It's so dirty, and--and +awful, and I'm afraid--oh, Reggie, I'm so afraid!" + +To tell the truth, Reggie was more than a little afraid himself, but he +made a mighty effort to appear quite at his ease. + +"Pooh!" he remarked scornfully. "I'm not afraid. I'd much rather stay +here where people are, than out on the desert by ourselves. Besides, +there isn't anything to be afraid of. I won't let anybody hurt you." + +Phyllis gazed at her companion through her tears, and a look of +profound admiration replaced the expression of hopeless misery on her +face. + +"You are a very brave boy," she said in a tone of conviction, not +unmixed with awe. "Aren't you really the least little bit afraid?" + +Reggie was conscious of a sensation of embarrassment. He was a +truthful boy, and he did not like the idea of deceiving his little +friend. Still, he reflected that if he let Phyllis suspect that he was +frightened, she would naturally be more unhappy than she already was. +So he took refuge in a slight prevarication. + +"Boys are never afraid of things like girls," he announced, +confidently. "Mother's always getting worried about all kinds of +things, but Daddy never bothers. Let's sit down. I'm pretty tired, +aren't you?" + +Phyllis looked about her, as if in search of something. + +"There isn't anything to sit on," she said. + +"There's the ground," said Reggie, promptly seating himself as he +spoke. "All the people here sit on the ground." + +"But the ground is so dirty, and Nurse will make such a fuss if I soil +my dress," protested Phyllis. + +"Bother Nurse! Nobody cares whether she fusses or not. Besides, your +dress isn't very clean any more. I guess it'll have to go in the wash +when we get home." + +Phyllis glanced at the pretty white muslin, which had been so clean and +fresh only a few hours before, and heaved a sigh, as she reluctantly +seated herself on the ground by Reggie's side. The lame boy, evidently +understanding their intention to await his father's return, bowed and +smiled once more, and sat down on the ground opposite his visitors. The +other native children, who had been watching proceedings with interest, +finding there was nothing exciting going on, began to drop off one +after another, and were soon intent on their own affairs once more. + +Then followed a long time of waiting. If they hadn't been so tired +and anxious, the children might have found the scene before them very +curious and interesting. It certainly was different from anything they +had ever imagined in their lives before. The news that two little +Europeans had taken shelter in the native village soon spread, and the +inhabitants flocked from their mud huts to look at them. They were +principally women and children, but there were a few men as well, and +they all stared as if the sight of a little white girl in a muslin +dress, and a little white boy in a sailor suit, sitting in front of +a mud hut, was a very extraordinary sight indeed. The lame boy had +constituted himself their guardian. He never moved from his seat, but +whenever a native attempted to approach the children too closely, he +waved his stick, and shouted such violent language that the intruders +speedily withdrew to a safe distance. + +"I think he's swearing at them," whispered Phyllis, looking very much +shocked, but to her astonishment, Reggie, whom she had always regarded +as a very good little boy, replied promptly-- + +"I don't know, but I hope he is, if that's what keeps them away." + +"But it's wicked to swear, Reggie; Nurse says people who do it won't go +to Heaven." + +"Well, he's a nice boy, anyway," maintained Reggie, "and we don't know +that he's swearing. Perhaps he's only telling them to keep away. Oh, +look at that little girl with a baby in her arms. She isn't much bigger +than you." + +A little girl of perhaps nine or ten, had just emerged from the mud +hut before which they were sitting. She carried a fat baby in her arms, +and although very scantily clad, and decidedly dirty, she struck the +children as the most prepossessing native they had yet seen. + +"She's pretty, isn't she?" whispered Phyllis. "I suppose the baby is +her little brother or sister, and she's taking care of it while her +mother gets supper." + +[Illustration: "SHE'S PRETTY, ISN'T SHE?" WHISPERED PHYLLIS.] + +She smiled pleasantly at the native child, who in her turn, stared with +round eyes of amazement at the two little strangers, and exchanged +rapid remarks with the lame boy, of which the children were evidently +the subject. Suddenly she deposited the baby unceremoniously upon +the ground, and disappeared once more within the mud hut. Phyllis +and Reggie, accustomed to the ways of English and American babies, +fully expected the little native to set up a howl of wrath, at being +so suddenly left to its own resources, but to their surprise, it did +not seem in the least disturbed, but promptly began rolling over and +over in the sand, kicking its little bare, black legs in the air, and +uttering shrieks of delight. + +"Oh, isn't it cunning!" cried Phyllis, everything else forgotten for +the moment in this new interest. "I wonder if it would let me hold it." + +"Don't you touch it," warned Reggie. "It's awfully dirty, and there's +something queer the matter with its eyes." + +"It isn't so very dirty, and it can't help its poor little eyes. Oh, +Reggie, look, it can creep; it's coming over here." + +It was true. The baby evidently attracted by something in the +appearance of the two little white strangers, was making its way on +all fours rapidly in their direction. In another moment, Phyllis, +regardless of Reggie's disapproval, had dragged it into her lap. The +lame boy appeared well pleased, for he smiled and nodded, and murmured, +half to himself and half to the children-- + +"The moon shines in the sky by day. The sun shines in the sky by night." + +"He's got it wrong this time," said Reggie. "He says the moon shines in +the sky by day. Oh, I do wish he knew some more English!" + +But Phyllis was too much absorbed with the dirty little Arab to pay any +heed. + +"I don't believe it makes any difference what language you talk to +babies in," she said. "They don't understand one any better than +another. Oh, see, Reggie, it's putting its finger in its mouth, just +the way babies do at home." + +At this moment, the little sister, or whatever she was, once more came +out of the hut. She carried in her hands a large cake of the hard +Egyptian bread, which forms almost the only food of the poorer classes +on The Nile, and at sight of Phyllis with the baby in her lap, she, +too, smiled and nodded in the same pleased way as the lame boy had done. + +"I think they must like us," said Phyllis. "I wish we could talk to the +little girl. I want to ask her the baby's name." + +Conversation being out of the question, Phyllis was forced to content +herself with nods and smiles, which were, perhaps, just as satisfactory +under the circumstances. The girl proceeded to break the enormous +cake into several pieces, one of which she handed to the boy, who +immediately began eating it, with evident relish. Then she approached +Phyllis, and smilingly held out a piece to her. + +"Must we take it, do you think?" whispered Phyllis, instinctively +drawing back. "It doesn't look at all nice." + +"I guess we'd better," returned Reggie, also in a whisper. "They might +be offended if we didn't." And he accepted the proffered offering with +as good grace as he could assume. + +"I really don't think I can possibly eat it," said Phyllis, regarding +the unpalatable looking food distastefully. "Do you suppose this is all +the supper they're going to have? Oh, the baby wants it; I'm afraid +it'll choke itself." + +But the baby's guardian evidently did not share Phyllis's +apprehensions, for she immediately began breaking the bread into small +pieces, and cramming them into the baby's mouth. + +"Oh, I know it's going to choke," cried Phyllis, in dismay. "Why don't +you give it a bottle?" she added, in her excitement quite forgetting +the fact that the Arab child spoke no English. + +"Don't be a silly," remarked Reggie, contemptuously. "I don't suppose +Egyptian babies ever have bottles." + +"But they haven't got any more teeth than our babies have," persisted +Phyllis, still feeling very much worried. "I'm sure this one is going +to choke in a minute." + +But, strange to say, the baby did not choke. On the contrary, it +appeared to be enjoying its peculiar meal very much, and in the +fascination of watching it, Phyllis and Reggie for the moment forgot +everything else. Then suddenly, a dreadful noise fell upon their ears. +It was a succession of piercing shrieks, and turning in the direction +from whence they came, the children saw, to their horror, first a +ragged boy running as if for life, and then a tall man, hotly pursuing +him, and brandishing a thick stick. The boy ran fast, but the man ran +still faster, and before the children had realized what it all meant, +he had reached his victim, seized him in a firm grasp, and was beating +him with such violence that his shrieks increased in volume, and soon +changed to howls of pain. + +The villagers looked on calmly enough, some of them even laughing +at the poor boy's discomfiture, but not so Reggie and Phyllis. With +a scream, almost as loud as the boy's own, Phyllis was on her feet, +letting the baby roll over face downward in the sand, and next moment +she was running out of the village with flying feet, closely followed +by Reggie. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + +How long and how far they ran the children never knew. They ran through +the soft sand as if their feet were winged, with but one thought in +both their minds, to get as far away from that dreadful village as +possible, before the man with the stick turned from his victim, and +started in pursuit of them. They were far too frightened by what they +had seen to stop to consider that the man could not possibly bear them +any ill will, or desire to injure them in any way. Both their hats +were soon left behind; several times they fell, but fortunately the +sand was soft, and they were up and off again in a moment. At last, +hot, breathless, and utterly exhausted, Phyllis sank down in a little +heap at the foot of a sand hill, and Reggie, scarcely less exhausted +himself, dropped down beside her. + +It was some minutes before either of them had recovered sufficient +breath to move or speak, and then Reggie was the first to sit up and +look around. There was not a human being in sight, and they seemed to +be surrounded on every side, as far as the eye could reach, by nothing +but vast stretches of desert sand. The last faint tints of daylight +were just fading out of the evening sky, and a few stars were beginning +to twinkle. Reggie shuddered. Something in the great stillness and +solitude all around terrified him even more than the man beating the +boy in the village had done. + +"Wasn't it--wasn't it awful!" gasped Phyllis, finding her voice at +last. "Do you suppose that man would have killed us if we hadn't run +away so fast?" + +"No, I don't," said Reggie, who felt his courage rapidly rising now +that he was at a safe distance from the terrible man with the stick. "I +don't believe he would have hurt us a bit. I wish we hadn't run away. +We ought to have waited till that lame boy's father came home. He said +his father talked English." + +"Oh, Reggie, you wouldn't really, it was so dreadful! Do let's hurry +and get back to the hotel; it's getting so very late, and Nurse and +Ellen will be so frightened." + +"But we don't know the way," said Reggie, mournfully. "We're lost this +time, sure, and it's almost dark, too." + +"Oh, Reggie, what are we going to do?" cried Phyllis, clasping her +hands in a sudden realization of the hopelessness of things. "Suppose +we should have to stay out here all night." + +"Well, we couldn't help it if we did," said Reggie, gloomily digging +his toes in the sand. "I guess we won't, though. Daddy's sure to come +and look for us as soon as he gets home." + +"Do you suppose he's come home yet?" inquired Phyllis, anxiously. + +"I don't know, but I guess he will be home soon, anyway. It must be +'most supper time. I'm getting pretty hungry, aren't you?" + +"Yes, very, and there isn't anything to eat. Reggie, suppose we should +starve." + +"Bosh!" said Reggie, with a great show of contempt. "Of course we +won't. I heard Daddy say a person could live a whole week without +eating anything, and they'll be sure to find us before that." + +"A whole week!" gasped Phyllis, her eyes growing round with horror. +"Why, if we had to stay here all night I should die, I know I should. +Oh, it's dreadful, it's dreadful!" And poor little Phyllis lifted up +her voice and wailed. + +Reggie felt very much inclined to follow her example, but remembered +just in time that he was a boy, and so merely rubbed the back of his +hand across his eyes instead. Phyllis continued to wail until her +head began to ache, and then the wails subsided into low moans, with +occasional pauses for rest. Reggie sat still, without uttering a word. +There really didn't seem to be anything to say. He was rather sorry +when Phyllis stopped screaming, because it made the silence seem even +worse than before. At last Phyllis lifted her head from the pile of +sand on which she had laid it in her weariness, and inquired in a +choked little voice-- + +"Were you ever lost before, Reggie?" + +"Yes, once," said Reggie, glad of any sound to break the awful +stillness. "It was two summers ago at York Harbor. I was only six then, +and Ellen took me to the woods to pick raspberries. We took the wrong +path coming home, and were dreadfully late for supper. Mother was +frightened." + +"But you didn't have to stay out all night, did you?" + +"Oh, no, we found the right path after a while, and we ate lots of +raspberries, so we didn't mind so much about being late. I wish we'd +eaten some of the bread that girl gave us." + +Phyllis shuddered. + +"I don't," she said, decidedly. "It was horrid stuff; it might have +made us ill." + +"We must have dropped our pieces when we ran away," said Reggie, +regretfully. "We've lost our hats, too. Do you suppose Nurse will make +an awful row about yours?" + +"I'm sure she will," said Phyllis, putting her hand up to her bare +head. She had been too much absorbed by other things to notice her +loss before. "Don't you think we'd better go back and look for them? +Nurse says people always take cold if they go out without their hats at +night." + +Reggie scrambled to his feet. + +"All right," he said promptly; "come along." + +But alas! in what direction were they to turn? In vain they strained +their eyes through the fast gathering darkness, in search of some +landmark that might serve them as a guide. There was nothing but sand, +sand, in every direction. + +"I guess we'd better stay right here where we are," said Reggie. "We +might get more lost than we are if we went any further, and it's +getting too dark to see anything." + +Phyllis made no objection, but sank down on the ground again, and for +the next ten minutes sobbed her poor little frightened heart out in the +sand. At last Reggie spoke, breaking a silence which had lasted, it +seemed to him, a very long time. + +"All the stars in the sky are lit now," he remarked, with a faint hope +of arousing Phyllis's interest, and making her talk. "I wonder what +God's doing up there now, don't you?" + +Phyllis lifted her head, with a start. + +"Perhaps he's looking right down at us," she said, with a sudden hope. +"If He is He'll be sure to send somebody to find us very soon, don't +you think so?" + +"Sure," said Reggie, confidently. He was delighted to have his friend +take a more hopeful view of the situation. "God sees everybody all the +time, you know." + +"I don't quite understand how He does it," said Phyllis, a little +doubtfully, "but I do hope He's looking at us this minute. I shouldn't +be nearly so much afraid if I could be sure of it. Were you very much +frightened that other time you were lost, Reggie?" + +"Not a bit. I knew we should get home all right, just the same as I +know it now." + +"But you had Ellen with you that other time," said Phyllis, "and +it wasn't night, either. I don't suppose a person would be so much +frightened in the daylight, but I don't like the dark. I never did like +it, and Nurse always leaves the light burning in the nursery till I get +to sleep. She thinks it's very silly, but Aunt Helen told her she must +always do it, so she does. Aunt Helen didn't like the dark either when +she was a little girl." + +"Well, it isn't so awfully dark now," said Reggie, encouragingly. +"The stars are very bright, and perhaps by and by the moon will come +up, and then it won't be dark at all. Anyhow, I'm here now, so you're +not alone, the way you are in the nursery when Nurse goes down to her +supper." + +"But you're only a little boy," objected Phyllis. "That isn't the same +thing as having somebody grown up." + +"I'm eight," said Reggie, modestly, "and I'm awfully strong. I don't +believe you have any idea how strong I am. Would you like to feel my +muscle?" + +Phyllis said she would, and Reggie forthwith seized her hand in such a +grip that she screamed with pain. + +"Don't ever do that again," she said, rubbing the aching fingers. "It +hurts." + +"Of course it does," said Reggie, proudly. "I've got more muscle than +Mother and Ellen, and Daddy says he's proud of it. Why, if a burglar, +or anything like that, happened to come along, I'd just--" + +"A burglar!" shrieked Phyllis. "Oh, there aren't any burglars here, are +there?" + +"Oh, no, no, of course there are not. I only said burglar, because I +couldn't think of anything else. I meant if a--mouse, or a--rat, or +anything like that came along--" + +"But I hate mice. I think I'm even more afraid of them than I am of +burglars. A mouse ran across Nurse's pillow once at home, and she +screamed so loud Aunt Helen thought the house was on fire. I think I'd +like to have you hold my hand if you don't mind, only don't squeeze it +the way you did before." + +Reggie grasped the little outstretched hand, and as he did so his manly +little heart swelled with pride. + +"Don't you be one bit afraid, Phyllis," he whispered. "Nothing's going +to happen, and if it does I'll take care of you all right. What makes +your hand so cold?" + +"I think my dress is rather thin," said Phyllis, with a shiver. "It's +only muslin, you see, and I haven't got my jacket. I thought it was +always warm in Egypt, even when it's winter at home." + +Reggie began to unbutton his jacket. + +"I guess you'd better put this on," he said. "My suit's a great deal +thicker than yours, and I've got all my winter flannels on. Mother +wouldn't let me leave them off when we got to Cairo, because she was +afraid I might take cold and have the croup. I'm apt to have the croup +when I take cold." + +"Then you mustn't take off your jacket now," said Phyllis, decidedly. +"No, no, Reggie, please." But Reggie had already taken it off, and was +wrapping it carefully about his little friend's shoulders. + +"I'm just boiling!" he announced. "I'm so hot that I'm almost in a +perspiration. Isn't it funny to think of its being January at home? +Daddy read in the paper that there was a big snow storm in New York the +other day. I wish I'd been there. Don't you love snow storms?" + +"Reggie," said Phyllis, irrelevantly, ignoring her friend's question, +"don't you think we were pretty bad to run away while Nurse and Ellen +were having their tea?" + +"I guess we were," Reggie admitted, gravely, "but then we only meant +to be gone a few minutes, and they were both such sillies. I'm sorry I +frightened Ellen, though." + +"I suppose they were both dreadfully frightened when they came back, +and we weren't there," said Phyllis, with a sigh. "Nurse will make a +terrible fuss, but your mother won't; she's so kind." + +"I wish she would," cried Reggie, more conscience-smitten by this last +remark of Phyllis's than by anything that had gone before. "It isn't +half so bad when people scold and make a fuss about things, the way +Ellen does, as when they just look sorry, and you know you've hurt +their feelings. I hate to hurt Mother's feelings, and I'm afraid she's +dreadfully frightened now, too. Oh, I do wish we hadn't done it!" +Reggie suddenly found it necessary to rub his eyes very hard with his +disengaged hand. + +"There isn't anybody but Nurse to be frightened about me," said +Phyllis, wistfully. "I wish I had a mother like yours. I wonder if my +father would be frightened if he knew about my being out here." + +"He'd come and look for us," said Reggie, confidently, "that's what +men always do. They never cry and go on about things like ladies. I'm +almost sure Daddy's out looking for us now. I wonder what time it is." + +"I think it must be nearly bedtime," said Phyllis, drowsily. "I'm +getting very sleepy, aren't you?" + +"N--no," said Reggie, regretfully; "I'm not sleepy, it's too exciting. +If you are, though, why don't you go to sleep? It will make the time +pass so much quicker till they come for us." + +"I never went to sleep out of doors, and there isn't any place to lie +down," objected Phyllis. + +"Let's make a bed in the sand," said Reggie, with a sudden inspiration. +"It's nice and soft, and we can pile it up for a pillow. We often made +beds in the sand at York Harbor." + +During the next five minutes the children almost forgot their troubles +in the interest of making a bed in the soft, warm sand. When it was +finished Phyllis stretched herself at full length, and pronounced it +very comfortable. + +"Now you go to sleep, and I'll sit up and keep watch," said Reggie, +cheerfully, tucking the jacket around his little friend. "That's what +soldiers always have to do when there's a war, and if they fall asleep +at their post they have to be shot." + +"Don't talk about shooting," said Phyllis, with a shudder. "I hate +guns." + +"I don't, I love them, and I should think you would, too, on account of +your father's being a colonel. I'd rather be a soldier than anything +else in the world. Daddy says perhaps I may be one when I grow up, and +if I am I hope there will be a great many wars, so I can fight and do +brave things." + +"Can't people ever do brave things without going to wars and shooting?" +inquired Phyllis. + +"I don't know; I suppose some people can. Firemen are pretty brave. +If I can't be a soldier, I think I'll be a fireman. Your father was +awfully brave in South Africa. I heard that nice Mr. Ward, who was on +the ship, telling Daddy and Mother about him." + +"Yes, I know he was," said Phyllis. "He's got a V.C. and Aunt Helen's +very proud of him, because he's her brother. I don't suppose a very +brave man like that would care much about a little girl, do you, +especially the kind of a little girl that's afraid of guns?" + +"Well, I suppose men generally like boys better than girls," was +Reggie's somewhat reluctant admission. "Mother says sometimes she +wishes I'd been a girl, but Daddy never does. I wish your father would +hurry and come home; I want to see him." + +Phyllis heaved a deep sigh, but said nothing, and Reggie also relapsed +into silence. Oh, how terribly still it was! There was not a sound to +be heard in all that vast wilderness of sand. It seemed to Reggie as if +he must shout aloud, to break the terrible stillness, but he reflected +that if he did it would only frighten Phyllis, and prevent her going +to sleep. He wished he could go to sleep himself, but that seemed +impossible. He had never been wider awake in his life, and besides, he +was beginning to feel decidedly chilly. The day had been oppressively +hot, but now that the sun had set, a cool breeze had sprung up, and was +blowing sharply over the desert. In spite of his assertion to Phyllis +that he was "boiling," he was conscious of uncomfortable little chills +running up and down his back. + +"I guess I'll get up and walk a little," he said to himself. "Sentinels +always walk up and down when they're keeping watch." + +But when he proposed this plan to Phyllis, she would not hear of it. + +"You'll go too far away," she protested, "and then I shall be so +frightened. I want you to stay right here and let me keep hold of your +hand." + +So Reggie yielded. He had uncomfortable forebodings of croup, but +he remembered something his father had once said to him about a +gentleman's never leaving a lady in trouble. It would be very +unpleasant to be laid up with an attack of croup, but if it came it +couldn't be helped, and in the meantime it was certainly his duty to +stay with Phyllis as long as she needed his protection. So he sat +still, holding his little friend's hand in his, and growing colder and +colder every minute, until at last the little fingers relaxed their +grasp, and Phyllis's regular breathing assured him that she was fast +asleep. Then Reggie gently released his hand, and began to think of +himself. + +"I guess I'll dig a big hole and bury myself in the sand," he +reflected, while his teeth chattered with cold. And he set to work to +such good purpose that in less than five minutes he was buried up to +his neck in the soft, yielding sand. + +The sand was still warm from the sun, which had been blazing down upon +it all day, and Reggie felt much more comfortable when he was well +covered. He even began to feel a little sleepy, but roused himself with +the dreadful recollection of what was done to soldiers who fell asleep +when they were on duty. Oh, how still it was! If only something would +happen--if only somebody would come to look for them! He wondered what +his father would say to him. Of course it was a dreadful thing to run +away from Ellen, and to take Phyllis with him. To be sure, Phyllis was +the older, but then she was only a girl, and girls were not supposed +to have as much sense as boys. Suppose nobody ever came for them. +Suppose they had to stay in that terrible desert till they starved. Oh, +why didn't Daddy come? All at once Reggie found that hot tears were +streaming down his cheeks, and that the big choking sobs would not be +kept back any longer. + +Bang! Bang! Two shots rang out sharp and clear on the still night air. +In a moment Reggie was sitting bolt upright staring about him in sleepy +bewilderment. He did not know that he had been to sleep at all, but he +must have been, for now the desert was flooded with moonlight, and it +was almost as bright as day. He could not see any people, but those +shots had certainly been fired from somewhere not far off. + +"Phyllis," he whispered, "Phyllis, are you awake?" + +A cold little hand grasped his convulsively, and a terrified little +voice gasped-- + +"Oh, Reggie, dear, it's guns; they're shooting--what shall we do?" + +"Let's keep very still, and perhaps they won't know we're here," he +advised, holding his friend's hand tight. Oddly enough, it never +occurred to either of them that the people who were shooting might be +friendly. + +"Would they--would they kill us if they found us, do you think?" +faltered Phyllis, with a little frightened sob. + +"I don't know. They would if they were cannibals, but I don't know +whether there are any cannibals in Egypt or not." + +Bang! Bang! Bang! Again the shots rang out, and this time they sounded +much nearer. At the same moment a large animal, with red eyes, dashed +past the terrified children, and disappeared in the shadow of a sand +hill. With a piercing shriek, Phyllis struggled to her feet, and began +to run, dragging her companion along with her, but she only ran a very +short distance, for at the sight of three figures, with guns on their +shoulders, suddenly looming into view, she uttered a second shriek, and +sank in a little heap at Reggie's feet. For one awful second Reggie +wavered, while his heart beat so fast that he could scarcely breathe. +His first instinct was to run, run as he had never done before in all +his life, but there was Phyllis, and she was a girl, and girls must be +protected. + +When three men, with guns over their shoulders, came hurrying up two +minutes later, they started back in amazement at the sight that met +their view. On the sand, lying face downward, was a little motionless +figure in a white muslin dress, and standing over it, with fists +clenched, and a look of fierce determination on his small, white face, +was a little boy in a blue sailor suit, minus a jacket. + +"Don't you dare to touch her--don't you dare to!" shouted Reggie, +stamping his foot in the sand, and in the excitement of the moment, +quite forgetting the fact that in all probability his enemies would not +understand a word of his language. "If you've got to shoot anybody you +can shoot me, but she's a girl, and if you touch her I'll--I'll kill +you." + +"By Jove, the kiddie's white!" exclaimed one of the three men, in +unmistakably English accents. "What on earth--" + +But at the sound of the English words Reggie's clenched fists had +suddenly dropped to his sides. + +"Why--why, you're English people!" he cried. "You're English or +Americans just like us." + +"To be sure we are English," said the man, laughing, "and will you have +the goodness to tell us what a young man of your size is doing out here +on the desert at this hour of the night?" + +"We're lost," Reggie explained, and it seemed to him that never before +had he heard any sound quite so pleasant as that Englishman's voice and +laugh. "We're staying at Mena House, and we came out to see the Sphinx, +but we couldn't find the way back, and--" + +But here Reggie's reminiscences were cut short by the second of the +three men, who had dropped on his knees, in the sand, and was bending +anxiously over Phyllis, who still lay quite motionless, with closed +eyes. + +"It's a little girl, Jim," he said, "and she has fainted. Give me your +flask." + +The man called Jim produced from his pocket a small silver flask which +he handed to his friend, and the stranger proceeded to pour a few +drops of its contents between Phyllis's lips. Reggie--who had seen his +mother faint on several occasions--was not as much frightened as might +otherwise have been the case, and watched the proceedings of his new +friends with deep interest. He already felt unlimited confidence in +the two broad-shouldered young Englishmen, who both had such kind faces +and such pleasant voices. + +In a minute or two Phyllis opened her eyes, and lay gazing up into the +face of the gentleman who was bending over her, chafing her cold little +hands. + +"Did I get shot?" she inquired, in a faint, far away little voice. + +"Not a bit of it," said the gentleman, smiling. "You're all right, and +as fit as possible. It was jackals we were trying to shoot, not little +girls." + +"We saw the jackal," cried Reggie, with a sudden recollection. "He ran +right past us, but we didn't know what he was. Isn't it a pity you +didn't get him?" + +"There speaks the true British sportsman," laughed the young man called +"Jim." "Are you hungry?" he added, with a sharp glance into Reggie's +tired little face. + +"Yes, sir," said Reggie, "I think I'm pretty hungry; at least I feel +rather queer in my stomach. We haven't had anything to eat since +luncheon, and that's a good while ago. But--but--please excuse me, sir; +I'm not a British sportsman at all; I'm an American." + +"Well, British or American, you're a good sportsman all the same," +said the Englishman, laughing heartily. "It seems to me, the most +important thing to be done now is to give you something to take away +that queer feeling in your stomach. What do you say, Colonel, to taking +the kiddies off to the camp, and giving them a feed?" + +"An excellent idea," said his friend, who had in the meantime assisted +Phyllis to a sitting position, though he still kept an arm protectingly +around her. "The only trouble is their friends are probably frightened +out of their wits about them, and I suppose we ought to get them back +to civilization as soon as possible. Did I hear you say you were +staying at the Mena House, my boy?" + +"Yes," said Reggie, eagerly, "and I think perhaps we had better go home +before we have any supper. I'm afraid my mother is very much frightened +about us." + +"All right," said the colonel, kindly. "Our camp is close by, and we +had intended spending another night on the desert, and going in to +Cairo to-morrow, but under the circumstances I think our wisest plan +will be to break camp, and make for Mena House to-night. It is only a +little after ten now. How long will it take us to reach Mena House +from here, Hassan?" + +The third man, who was not an Englishman, but an Arab guide, replied +that it would not take more than an hour with the camels, and he was +promptly despatched to fetch the animals--which were tethered not far +off--and to pack the two gentlemen's belongings. + +By this time Phyllis had quite recovered, though she still felt a +little giddy, and was glad to rest her head against the colonel's +shoulder. + +"Are we really going to ride on camels?" she inquired in a tone of deep +interest. + +"To be sure we are. My friend and I have been riding on camels for the +past two weeks, and you have no idea what good fun it is. You won't be +afraid, will you?" + +"Oh, no," said Phyllis. "I've been wanting to ride on a camel ever +since we came to Egypt, but Mrs. Starr wouldn't let me. She says +perhaps my father will let me when he comes home, but she doesn't like +to take the responsibility. Do you know," she added, gazing wonderingly +up into the colonel's face, "you look ever so much like my father's +photograph?" + +"Do I indeed?" said the Englishman, smiling, and giving the little head +nestling so confidingly against him a kindly pat. "I have a little girl +of my own, God bless her, but she is far away in England. She must +be about your age, too, but you see, you are an American, and so your +father must be an American as well." + +"Oh, but I'm not an American," Phyllis explained, her bright, wondering +eyes still fixed earnestly on the colonel's face. "Reggie is, but I'm +English, and I only came to Egypt last week. I came to see my father, +but when the steamer got to Alexandria he didn't come to meet us, and +Mr. Starr said Nurse and I had better go to Cairo. So we did, and +Mr. Starr went to find my father, but he had gone away camping, and +wouldn't be back for a week. So we stayed with the Starrs in Cairo, and +yesterday we all came to that hotel near where the Pyramids are, and +this afternoon Reggie and I ran away to see the Sphinx while Nurse and +Ellen were having their tea. It will be a week to-morrow since we came +off the steamer, and Mrs. Starr says she's quite sure my father will be +back very soon. You do look very, very much like his picture. Are you +sure you're really not my father, please?" + +"I am afraid not," said the colonel, but he was looking very earnestly +into the little upturned face as he spoke, and there was a wondering, +half troubled expression in his eyes. "My little Phyllis is at home +with her aunt in England. I would give a good deal to have her out +here, but her aunt thinks the journey too long, and--" + +"Is her aunt's name Helen, and is her name Phyllis Willoughby?" +demanded Reggie, who had been listening to the conversation with +breathless interest. + +The colonel turned upon him in amazement. + +"Of course it is," he said, "but how in the world did you happen to +know it?" + +"Because we've been talking about you ever since we came to Egypt," +shouted Reggie, jumping up and down in his excitement. "Phyllis has +been worrying all the time for fear you'd be sorry she'd come, but I +said I knew you wouldn't. She's so pretty and jolly for a girl, that +you couldn't help liking her, especially as you're her father." + +"Phyllis," repeated the colonel, his blank astonishment giving place to +a sudden glad hope; "where is my little Phyllis? Not in Egypt, surely!" + +"She's right here," cried Reggie, ecstatically. "Her aunt sent her, +because she wanted to go to Greece, and she came on the same ship with +us. If your name's Colonel Willoughby, she's your little girl. Oh, +Phyllis, I told you he'd be glad--I knew he would! I say, isn't this +the most exciting adventure anybody ever had?" + + + + + CHAPTER V + + +It was three days later, and Reggie was sitting up in bed doing a +picture puzzle. The attack of croup had been a sharp one, but the +worst was now over, although it had been decreed that the patient +should spend another day in bed before being allowed to go about the +usual business of life once more. Reggie had argued the subject long +and seriously with both his mother and Ellen, protesting that he had +never felt less like staying in bed in his life, but all his arguments +had proved unavailing, and had been finally quenched by his father's +remarking rather grimly, that he considered an attack of croup and +three days spent in bed, a very light punishment for nearly frightening +his mother into nervous prostration. After that Reggie was silent. +He was quite aware of the fact that he had been shockingly naughty, +and at the bottom of his heart was really very much ashamed of his +conduct, but at the same time it didn't seem quite fair that he should +be having all the blame and all the punishment, while Phyllis--who had +really been just as much to blame as himself--was treated as quite the +heroine of the hour, and went about with such a radiant expression of +countenance that he sometimes longed to slap her. There was no doubt in +Reggie's mind that Colonel Willoughby spoiled his little daughter much +more than was good for her. + +The picture puzzle was difficult, and not very interesting, and Reggie +pushed away the pieces impatiently, and lay down on his back, with a +grunt of disgust. Ellen looked up from her sewing. + +"Don't kick the bed-clothes off, Master Reggie," she admonished +severely; "you'll catch more cold if you do." + +"I'm not doing it," returned Reggie, "but if I did I couldn't catch +cold, because it's summer, and people never have colds in summer." + +"Don't they, though? Besides, it isn't summer at all, and you know it; +it's the second of February." + +"Well, it's summer here, anyhow, even if it's winter somewhere else. +I'm awfully hot. Can't I take off one of these blankets?" + +"No, you can't, and you know it very well. I should really think you'd +worried your poor mother enough already without wanting to worry her +more by taking another cold." + +Reggie winced. He was very fond of his mother, and he did not like to +think of the anxiety he had caused her. + +"Was Daddy frightened about us that night, too?" he inquired, curiously. + +"Well, I should rather say he was. Everybody was frightened out of +their senses, and with good reason, too. Suppose some of them black +heathens had carried you off, and you'd never seen anybody belonging to +you again?" + +"What did Nurse say about it?" + +"She used such language as I wouldn't demean myself by repeating," said +Ellen, pursing up her lips primly, and looking mysterious. "She's a +very high-tempered person, and when her temper's roused she isn't to be +trusted as to language." + +"Did she swear?" demanded Reggie in a tone of deep interest, and he +raised himself on his elbow, so as to be able to see the expression of +Ellen's face more distinctly. + +"Don't use such words, Master Reggie; little boys shouldn't talk about +swearing." + +"Well, that's what people do when they use language other people can't +repeat, isn't it?" + +"Sometimes, but not always. Miss Phyllis's nurse didn't swear, but +she--well, she said things she oughtn't to have, and Mrs. Starr and +Colonel Willoughby don't consider her the proper person to have the +care of children. Colonel Willoughby's looking for somebody to take her +place, and he's going to pay her passage back to England." + +This was an interesting piece of news, and Reggie pondered it for +several minutes in silence. Then he spoke again. + +"Everybody seems to like Phyllis very much, don't they?" he remarked +reflectively. + +"Certainly they do. Miss Phyllis is a very sweet little girl." + +Reggie gave the unoffending bed-clothes a vicious kick. + +"She ran away the same as I did," he said, in a rather aggrieved tone, +"and she was just as naughty, only she didn't have any mother to be +frightened about her, and her father wasn't frightened, because he +didn't know she was lost till after she was found. I don't suppose she +was punished a bit." + +"Well, no, she wasn't," Ellen was forced to admit. "I suppose they +thought she'd suffered enough through being so frightened, and I don't +believe Colonel Willoughby could bring himself to punish her if he +tried, for he seems to just about worship her." + +Reggie heaved a deep sigh. + +"I wonder how it feels to have people worship you," he remarked +thoughtfully. + +Ellen laughed in spite of herself. + +"Well, I guess you ought to know," she said, "seeing the lot your +father and mother think about you." + +"Do you really believe they do?" Reggie demanded, eagerly. + +"Do what?" + +"Wor--I mean think a lot about me?" + +But before Ellen could answer, the door was suddenly and +unceremoniously burst open, and Phyllis, her eyes fairly dancing with +happiness, came running into the room. + +"Oh, Reggie," she cried joyfully, "I've had such a lovely time! Captain +Allerton took papa and me in to Cairo in his motor-car, and we've been +shopping." + +Reggie said nothing, but deliberately turned his back upon his +friend, and his face to the wall. Phyllis and Ellen gazed at him in +astonishment, and some of the brightness died out of Phyllis's face. + +"What's the matter, Reggie?" she inquired, anxiously; "does your head +ache?" + +"No," said Reggie, crossly. + +"Don't you want to hear about what papa and I have been doing?" + +"No, I don't." + +"Don't bother with him, Miss Phyllis," said Ellen, indignantly. "He's +been that cross and disagreeable all the morning there's no doing +anything with him. Come and let me take off your things, and you can +tell me all about it." + +But Phyllis was not so easily daunted. She drew nearer the bed, and +laid a brown paper package she had been carrying, with great pride, by +Reggie's side. + +"We bought you a present," she said, a little tremulously; "don't you +want to look at it? We hoped you would like it." + +Reggie turned partly around, and regarded the package with some +curiosity. + +"I don't believe it's anything I want," he said, grudgingly. "Girls +never know the kind of things boys like." + +"But papa chose this one, and it's awfully pretty, it truly is." +Phyllis was almost in tears. + +"I wouldn't give it to him at all if he's so rude," advised Ellen, with +an indignant glance at the obstinate little face on the pillow. "I +shall tell his father about him the minute he comes in." + +"Oh, no, please don't do that!" cried Phyllis, in real distress. + +"He doesn't mean to be rude--you don't, do you, Reggie? You needn't +keep the present if you don't like it, but do please look at it." + +Reggie leaned over and drew the package towards him. + +"I guess I'll like it all right," he said, beginning to fumble at the +string. "I didn't mean to be rude, only I don't think it's exactly fair +for one person to go off for automobile rides when another person has +to have the nasty old croup, and stay in bed all day." + +"Oh, Reggie, I'm so sorry!" cried the conscience-smitten Phyllis. +"I didn't know you'd mind. I wouldn't have gone if I had, I truly +wouldn't. Please don't be angry about it, and I'll stay and play with +you all the afternoon." + +Reggie was softened, but boy-like, he was not fond of showing his +feelings. + +"That's all right," he said, gruffly; "I don't mind, only--only I wish +you'd get me a pair of scissors to cut this old string. It feels as if +there was a book inside. I like books when they're interesting." + +"You'll love this one, I know you will," Phyllis assured him, her face +once more wreathed in smiles, as she flew to the bureau in search of +the required scissors. "Papa chose it because it's full of stories +about brave people who had wonderful adventures, and it's got such +lovely pictures in it." + +When the book was finally undone, Reggie's eyes fairly shone with +delight. + +"It's a dandy!" he exclaimed, past sorrows and vexations alike +forgotten in his interest in this new possession. "Look at that picture +of a man riding on an elephant, and here's one of some people fighting +Indians. I love books about brave people." + +"Of course you do," said Phyllis, simply; "I suppose all brave people +like to read about each other." + +"What brave people?" Reggie inquired, regarding his friend in surprise. + +"Why, you're one, of course. I suppose you're about as brave a boy as +ever lived." + +Reggie was fairly speechless with amazement for a moment, and then +he made use, I am sorry to say, of a very slang expression, which he +had been strictly forbidden ever to use. "Oh, come off!" he said, and +blushed scarlet. + +Phyllis did not know what "come off" meant, but she did know the +meaning of the look on Reggie's face, and her own astonishment was +increased in consequence. + +"Why, of course you are," she maintained. "Don't you know everybody's +talking about what you did the other night? Captain Allerton talked +about it in the motor-car. He said he wouldn't ever forget the way you +looked when you stood in front of him with your fists doubled up, and +said you'd kill him if he dared to touch me. He said it was the bravest +thing he ever saw anybody do. Papa said so, too, and he'd give anything +in the world to have a boy just like you, and--" + +"Look here, did your father really say that?" demanded Reggie. His eyes +were sparkling with excitement. + +"Yes, he did, he said it ever so many times, and he told me I ought +to be proud to have such a brave little boy for my friend. I think I +should be jealous, only he says he loves me better than any one else +in the world, and I'm going to stay out here in Egypt with him till +summer, and then he's going to take me back to England himself. He +doesn't think Aunt Helen ought to have let Nurse and me come out by +ourselves without knowing he would be able to meet us at the ship, and +he's written her a letter about it." + +"Do you think Daddy knows?" Reggie asked in a rather low voice. + +"Knows what?" + +"That thing about--about what your father and Captain Allerton said?" + +"Why, yes, and he's just as proud of you as they are. He was on the +terrace this morning when papa and I were there, and papa talked a +great deal to him about you. He said he hoped you would go into the +army when you grew up, because he was sure you would make a brave +soldier, and you can't think how pleased your father looked." + +"Did Daddy say anything?" Reggie appeared to be deeply absorbed in +examining a pattern in the bed-spread, for he did not raise his eyes as +he asked the question. + +"Not very much, but he smiled, and his eyes had such a proud look +in them. I think the thing he said was 'Oh, Reggie's a nice little +beggar,' but you can't think how much he liked it." + +Reggie swallowed hard two or three times, and there was something wet +on one of his eye-lashes, but all he said was: + +"That's all right. Now don't let's talk any more about that stuff. Get +the jackstraws, and we'll have a game before lunch. I guess I don't +mind staying in bed another day, after all, and--and, say, I'm awfully +sorry I was rude about the book." + + + THE END + + * * * * * + + [Transcriber's Note: Inconsistent hyphenation left as printed.] + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75482 *** diff --git a/75482-h/75482-h.htm b/75482-h/75482-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..837e380 --- /dev/null +++ b/75482-h/75482-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7317 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Maisie's Merry Christmas | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } +hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%;} +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +x-ebookmaker-drop {display: none;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap { font-variant:small-caps; } + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.caption p +{ + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + margin: 0.25em 0; + font-weight: bold; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +table.autotable { border-collapse: collapse; } +table.autotable td, +table.autotable th { padding: 4px; } + +.tdl {text-align: left;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} +.tdc {text-align: center;} + +div.titlepage { + text-align: center; + page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; +} + +div.titlepage p { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.5; + margin-top: 3em; +} + +.ph1 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph1 { font-size: x-large; margin: .83em auto; } + +.ph2 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph2 { font-size: medium; margin: .83em auto; } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75482 ***</div> + +<div class="titlepage"> + +<h1>MAISIE'S MERRY CHRISTMAS</h1> + +<p class="ph1">By NINA RHOADES</p> + +<p>Author of "Brick House Books,"<br> +"Marion's Vacation," and "Dorothy Brown"</p> + +<p><i>ILLUSTRATED BY ELIZABETH WITHINGTON</i></p> + +<p>BOSTON<br> +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.</p> + +<p>Published, March, 1911</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1911<br> +By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.</span></p> + +<p><i>All Rights Reserved</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maisie's Merry Christmas</span></p> + +<p>NORWOOD PRESS<br> +BERWICK & SMITH CO.<br> +NORWOOD, MASS.<br> +U. S. A.</p> + + +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<table> + +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#MAISIES_MERRY_CHRISTMAS">MAISIE'S MERRY CHRISTMAS</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#JILL_AND_LILL">JILL AND LILL</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_Ia">CHAPTER I</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_IIa">CHAPTER II</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_IIIa">CHAPTER III</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_IVa">CHAPTER IV</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_Va">CHAPTER V</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#HOW_REGGIE_SAW_THE_SPHINX">HOW REGGIE SAW THE SPHINX</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_Ib">CHAPTER I</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_IIb">CHAPTER II</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_IIIb">CHAPTER III</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_IVb">CHAPTER IV</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_Vb">CHAPTER V</a></td></tr> +</table> + + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<table> +<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#frontis">"Oh, may I really take it?"</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#illus1">She laid a kind little hand on one of the blind child's shoulders.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#illus2">"And may I ask what your mother does in the galleries?"</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#illus3">"Has there really been an earthquake, and where was it?"</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#illus4">Reggie paused before the open window.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#illus5">"She's pretty, isn't she?" whispered Phyllis.</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="MAISIES_MERRY_CHRISTMAS">MAISIE'S MERRY CHRISTMAS</h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</h2> +</div> + + +<p>"I wish there wasn't going to be any Christmas at all this year."</p> + +<p>Maisie made this startling assertion in a tone of conviction, but there +was a quiver in her voice, nevertheless, and a suspicious moisture +in her eyes. The remark caused quite a shock to the members of her +family, who were all assembled in their private sitting-room at the +Hotel de Nice. Mr. Barton looked up from his American newspaper, that +had arrived by the last mail, Mrs. Barton paused in the letter she +was writing home to Grandma, and Auntie Belle—who was playing on the +piano—whirled around on her stool, and regarded her little niece with +an expression of horrified amazement.</p> + +<p>"Why, Maisie," she exclaimed indignantly; "how can you say such a +dreadful thing? Think of the wonderful winter we are having! You must +really be a very unappreciative child."</p> + +<p>"I'm not an unappreciative child," declared Maisie, who did not like +the long word, although she was not quite sure she knew what it meant, +"and I'm not having a wonderful winter at all. It's been horrid ever +since we went away from Morristown. First there was that dreadful +ocean. You didn't mind that, because you weren't seasick, and didn't +have to lie in bed and hate things to eat. Then there was London. I +hated London, it was so foggy and rainy, and Françoise was always +making me wash my face and hands because of the smoots. We had to go +to stupid churches and galleries, and papa made me say history to him +every day. I hate history even worse than geography and arithmetic. +After that came Paris, and there were more churches and pictures, and +everybody talked French. Now we've come here, and it's going to be +Christmas next week, though I don't see how it really can be, with all +the roses out just the way they are at home in June. I don't see any +use in Christmas without any people to give presents, and I just wish +there wasn't going to be any, so there!"</p> + +<p>"But, Maisie darling," began Mrs. Barton, eagerly, "there will be +presents. Grandpa and Grandma and all the aunties and uncles have sent +money to spend for our Christmas, and we are planning a very merry day."</p> + +<p>But Maisie's cross little face did not brighten.</p> + +<p>"It won't be like Christmas at home, anyway," she persisted. "How can +it be, without any party, and with nobody but you and papa and Auntie +Belle and Françoise to buy presents for? Even if we had a tree, there +wouldn't be any people to come to it."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle opened her lips as if she were going to say something, but +at a glance from her brother she closed them again. Mrs. Barton looked +really distressed, but Mr. Barton only smiled.</p> + +<p>"Come here, Maisie," he said, laying down his newspaper, and lifting +his little daughter on his knee. "So Europe is a failure in your +estimation, and you would much rather have spent the winter in +Morristown, New Jersey, than in France or Italy."</p> + +<p>"Much rather," said Maisie, with decision; "I wish we hadn't come."</p> + +<p>"That is really a very sad state of affairs, especially when mamma and +Auntie Belle and I are all enjoying ourselves so much. But I thought +we agreed that the pantomime and the Zoo in London were rather good +fun, after all, and that the Bois in Paris was even nicer than Central +Park. Then how about the ponies?"</p> + +<p>Maisie was beginning to look a little ashamed of her outburst.</p> + +<p>"London and Paris weren't so very bad," she admitted, reluctantly, "and +I do like the ponies, but it's Christmas—oh, Papa, it's dreadful not +to be at home on Christmas!" And Maisie took out her handkerchief and +wiped her eyes.</p> + +<p>"We are all sorry to be away from our dear ones on Christmas, of +course," said Mr. Barton, "and we shall miss them very much; but you +know people can't expect to have all the good things in the world at +the same time. Now, I have an idea. You have always had very 'Merry +Christmasses' at home, but you are afraid this one isn't going to be +quite the same thing. How would it do to try to make this Christmas +just as merry for some one else as your friends made yours for you last +year?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think that would be any fun," said Maisie, who did not look +much impressed by her father's suggestion. "Besides, we don't know any +people here."</p> + +<p>"It is true that we don't know any one as yet, but Christmas is nearly +a week off, and in the meantime we might be on the look out. Suppose +you think the matter over for a day or two, and see how it strikes you."</p> + +<p>Maisie did not look as if she considered her father's suggestion at all +an interesting one, but at the moment her ear was caught by the sound +of distant music, and glad of any opportunity to change a conversation +which was threatening to become personal, she slipped down off her +father's knee, with the remark.</p> + +<p>"There are some more musicians; I want to see them." And promptly +disappeared through the open French window on to the balcony, which +overlooked the garden, where roses bloomed all winter long.</p> + +<p>"Poor mite!" said Mrs. Barton, when Maisie had left the room, "we +forget what a baby she really is. Of course she cannot be expected to +enjoy the things that we do. I almost wish I had taken mother's advice, +and left her at home, though it would have been very hard to part from +her."</p> + +<p>"I don't agree with you at all," said Mr. Barton smiling. "Has it +ever occurred to you, Alice, that our small daughter is just a trifle +selfish?"</p> + +<p>"I don't consider her in the least selfish," Mrs. Barton declared +indignantly. "She is the most generous little thing in the world. +Why, only this morning I had to prevent her giving a whole franc to +some of those ridiculous street musicians she is so fond of. She is +always giving away her pocket-money, and one of her chief reasons for +being unhappy just now is because she has so few people for whom to buy +Christmas presents this year."</p> + +<p>"All very true. Maisie loves to shop, and when her pocket-money is all +gone she will come to us for more, but honestly now, Alice dear, has +the child ever been obliged to give up anything she really wanted?"</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle gave her brother a quick, comprehending glance, and with +difficulty repressed a laugh. She was really very fond of her little +niece, but there had been times lately when she had found Maisie just +a little tiresome. But Mrs. Barton looked really unhappy. She was very +conscientious, and honestly tried to bring up her little girl in the +best way, but Maisie was such a funny, sweet-tempered little person, +that it was hard to keep from spoiling her. She was an only child, and +the joy of her mother's heart.</p> + +<p>Before Mrs. Barton could reply, however, Maisie herself reappeared.</p> + +<p>"It's a boy and a little girl this time," she announced, with the air +of a person imparting most interesting news. "The little girl isn't +much bigger than me. She sings and the boy plays the mandolin. Please +give me some money for them, Papa. They look very poor; they haven't +any shoes or stockings on."</p> + +<p>"I have known boys who preferred going without shoes and stockings to +wearing them," said Mr. Barton, laughing, but he handed Maisie some +small coins, and the little girl once more disappeared from view.</p> + +<p>"Hark!" exclaimed Auntie Belle, in a tone of sudden interest; "listen +to that child's singing."</p> + +<p>They were all silent for a moment, and through the open window came the +sound of a child's voice, singing a little French ballad. It was a very +sweet, clear little voice, though as yet quite untrained, and there was +a strange pathos in it, which touched the hearers in a way that they +could hardly have explained.</p> + +<p>"Rather better than one usually hears," Mr. Barton said, when the +ballad came to an end. "It is shameful, though, that a child of that +age should be allowed to go about the streets singing. She ought to be +at school or at home with her mother."</p> + +<p>Just then there was a tap at the sitting-room door, and Françoise, +Maisie's French maid, appeared, with the announcement that the ponies +were at the door.</p> + +<p>"I gave them the money, but I don't think they were very polite," +remarked Maisie, coming from the balcony at Françoise's summons. "The +boy took off his hat, but the little girl didn't even smile, and she +never looked up once."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she has never been taught to be polite," said Mrs. Barton. +"Now run along, my darling, and have a pleasant drive. Don't stay out +late, and do be careful of those dreadful motor cars."</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later, Maisie, seated by Françoise's side in the pony cart, +was driving the pretty little pair of cobs down the boulevard in the +direction of the sea. A small boy in livery occupied the seat behind, +but beyond an occasional word to the ponies, he had nothing to do. +Maisie had always lived in the country, and had ridden her first pony +when she was five. Although only just ten, she could already both drive +and ride better than many people twice her age. She had always cared +more for animals than for toys, and the leaving her pony and other +pets had been one of the hardest things about going abroad for the +winter. It had been a great delight to her, when, on their arrival at +Nice—where they expected to spend several weeks—her father had hired +the little pair of cobs for her use, and the afternoon drives into the +country, or along the esplanade by the sea, were by far the pleasantest +hours of the day.</p> + +<p>To-day she chose the esplanade. It was a glorious afternoon; the air +was soft and balmy, and felt much more like April than December. The +sea was very calm, but the little waves danced and sparkled in the +sunshine. Françoise—who loved everything connected with her native +land—was enchanted, and asked Maisie if she did not think it was +"<i>magnifique</i>," but Maisie—who was still feeling rather aggrieved on +the subject of Christmas—replied crossly that she thought Morristown +was much prettier, and the maid was forced to fall back on the small +groom for sympathy. Antoine had spent three winters in Nice, and was +quite ready to talk about the attractions of the place, and he and +Françoise became so enthusiastic, and repeated the words "<i>magnifique</i>" +and "<i>charmante</i>" so many times that Maisie grew quite tired of hearing +them.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd talk about something else," she said at last. Maisie +had had French nurses all her life, and spoke that language quite as +fluently as her own.</p> + +<p>"You have no love for the beautiful," said Françoise, severely.</p> + +<p>"I have, too, but I get tired hearing people always talking about the +same thing. I'm not going to stay here any longer. I'm going to buy +Christmas presents." And she resolutely turned the ponies' heads in a +homeward direction.</p> + +<p>"Your mamma does not wish you to shop in the afternoon," remonstrated +Françoise; "she says you are to be out in the fresh air."</p> + +<p>"I don't like the fresh air, and I've got twenty francs that papa gave +me yesterday to buy Christmas presents with. Next Saturday will be +Christmas, though I don't see how it can be with all the roses out, and +last year I shopped every day for two whole weeks."</p> + +<p>Françoise was still inclined to object, but Maisie was in one of her +obstinate fits, and the argument was threatening to become a serious +one, when the little girl's attention was attracted by something, which +for the moment directed her thoughts into a new channel.</p> + +<p>"Look at that little girl crying on the bench," she exclaimed, with +suddenly aroused interest. "She's bigger than I am; I should think +she'd be ashamed to have people see her crying in the street. Why, I do +believe it's the same little girl who was singing in front of the hotel +just before we went out! What's the matter, Antoine?" For Antoine had +suddenly uttered a startled exclamation, and half risen in his seat.</p> + +<p>"Pardon, Mademoiselle, but might I be permitted to speak to the little +girl for a moment? It is poor little Celeste Noel, and she is alone."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't she be alone?" Maisie inquired, as she brought the +ponies to a stand-still. "She must be ten or eleven."</p> + +<p>"Because she is blind, and it always frightens her to be left alone."</p> + +<p>"Blind! Oh, how sad! I think I will go and speak to her too."</p> + +<p>"Indeed you will do nothing of the kind, Mademoiselle Maisie," cried +Françoise, indignantly. "Your mamma would never—"</p> + +<p>But already Maisie, with characteristic impetuosity, had sprung out +of the pony cart, throwing the reins to Françoise, and the maid, who +did not like driving, and was in constant fear of the horses running +away, was too frightened to finish her sentence. Meantime Antoine had +already reached the bench, on which the little blind girl was crouched, +her face buried in her hands, shaking from head to foot with sobs. He +was quickly followed by Maisie.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" she inquired in her pretty, fluent French, before +Antoine had had time to utter a word, and she laid a kind little hand +on one of the blind child's shoulders.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt="" id="illus1"> + <div class="caption"> + <p><span class="smcap">She laid a kind little hand on one of the blind child's shoulders.</span></p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>At the sound of the friendly voice, the little girl lifted her head, +and an expression of relief came into her face. It was a pretty, +pathetic little face, in spite of the tear stains, and there was +nothing repulsive or painful in the sight of the downcast eyes.</p> + +<p>"Pierre has left me all alone," she said, with a mighty effort to check +the rising sobs. "I am afraid to be alone."</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, Celeste," said Antoine, soothingly; "you are quite safe +here; nothing can harm you. Pierre will soon be back."</p> + +<p>Celeste turned her head eagerly in the direction of the new voice.</p> + +<p>"It is Antoine Dupont," she said eagerly; "I know your voice. Pierre +said he was tired of playing for me to sing, and that I must stay here +until he comes for me. He may stay away all the afternoon; he did one +day last week, and I am so afraid of the horses and those terrible +motor cars; they come so near and make such a dreadful noise. Besides, +I am afraid Pierre will spend all the money for sweets and marbles, and +there will be nothing to take home to poor Maman Remo."</p> + +<p>Antoine's eyes flashed angrily.</p> + +<p>"Pierre is a beast," he muttered. "If my father could catch him, he +would beat him as he deserves."</p> + +<p>"Where do you live?" inquired Maisie, whose interest and sympathy were +growing stronger every moment.</p> + +<p>"It is a long way from here; I could not possibly go there myself."</p> + +<p>"No, of course you couldn't, but we could take you in the pony cart, if +Antoine knows the way. Would you like to go with us?"</p> + +<p>"It is little Mademoiselle Barton," Antoine explained. "She drives the +cobs. I told you about her the other day."</p> + +<p>Celeste's face brightened perceptibly.</p> + +<p>"I remember," she said, "the little American girl, with the long soft +hair, that you said you would like to have me feel. Yes, I will go with +you. You are very kind; you gave Antoine chocolates, and he gave them +to me."</p> + +<p>Antoine blushed at this mention of his generosity, but Maisie was +pleased.</p> + +<p>"Antoine is a nice boy," she said, approvingly, "and I will give him +some more chocolates when we go home. I have a whole box full, that +Auntie Belle gave me yesterday. I will send you some, too, if you like +them. Now come along."</p> + +<p>Celeste rose promptly, and held out her hand, and as Maisie took it, +and led the way to the waiting pony cart, her heart was suddenly filled +with a great pitying tenderness, such as she had never felt before in +her life, and she felt suddenly as if she wanted to cry.</p> + +<p>At the sight of Maisie returning with her strange companion, Françoise +once more found her voice.</p> + +<p>"Leave that child alone, and get in at once, Mademoiselle Maisie," she +commanded. "You are a very naughty little girl, and I shall certainly +tell your mamma what you have done. Antoine, come here this instant, +and hold these ponies. You know it terrifies me to be left alone with a +horse."</p> + +<p>Antoine, feeling considerably conscience-smitten, sprang to the ponies' +heads, but Maisie had no intention of relinquishing her charge.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to take the little blind girl home," she explained. "Her +brother ran away and left her, and she is frightened. Please move up, +Françoise, so she can sit between us on the seat."</p> + +<p>"Indeed you will do nothing of the kind," returned Françoise, +decidedly. "Your mamma would never allow it. Take the child back to the +bench where you found her, and then we must go on. It is getting late, +and we must hurry if you wish to shop before going home."</p> + +<p>But Maisie did not move.</p> + +<p>"The little girl is blind, Françoise," she said, reproachfully, "and +she is frightened. I know papa and mamma wouldn't mind my taking her +home. They like to have me do kind things for people. Please let us +take her. Antoine knows her."</p> + +<p>Françoise wavered. She was not really an unkind woman, and she noticed +that, although very poorly dressed, the little blind girl was not +at all dirty. But now, to the surprise of every one, it was Celeste +herself who drew back.</p> + +<p>"I—I would rather not go, please," she said, her cheeks crimsoning, +and she took a few quick steps backward, in the direction of the bench +where she had been sitting.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" inquired Maisie, in surprise, and she grasped her new +friend's hand still more firmly.</p> + +<p>"The lady does not want me. I would rather wait here for Pierre. Please +take me back to the bench."</p> + +<p>"There, you see, Françoise, you have hurt her feelings," cried Maisie, +indignantly. "Please do come, Celeste; I want you very much, and so +does Françoise. You do want her, don't you, Françoise?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, come, my child," said the maid, in a much gentler tone, and she +made room for Celeste to sit beside her on the seat. "Now, Antoine, if +you know where the little girl lives, direct us there at once."</p> + +<p>Thus urged, Celeste though still looking a little uncomfortable, +allowed herself to be lifted into the cart, and in accordance with +Antoine's directions, Maisie turned the ponies' heads, and they trotted +away towards the home of her little protégée.</p> + +<p>"Does your brother often leave you like that?" Maisie inquired, +sympathetically, as the little blind girl settled back in her seat, +with a sigh of unmistakable enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"Pierre is not my brother; he is Maman Remo's boy. My brother would +never be so cruel. He was always kind, and once he beat a boy who +teased me."</p> + +<p>"Why does your brother let you go out with that horrid Pierre—why +doesn't he take you himself?"</p> + +<p>A shadow crept into the child's face, and her lip trembled.</p> + +<p>"He is not here," she said, sadly. "He went away four years ago, to +seek his fortune, and he has never come back since."</p> + +<p>"To seek his fortune?" repeated Maisie, looking puzzled. "I thought it +was only in fairy tales that people did that. Where did he go?"</p> + +<p>Celeste shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I do not know," she said. "Maman Remo thinks he may have gone to +America. We have never heard from him since he went away. He told Maman +Remo he would not come back until he had made his fortune."</p> + +<p>"And who is Maman Remo?"</p> + +<p>"She is the lady who has taken care of me ever since my own maman died. +She promised Louis she would let me stay with her until he came back."</p> + +<p>"And is she kind—do you love her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed, she is very kind, and I love her very much. She was +so good to my poor maman when she was ill, and so was Papa Remo, too, +but he is dead now. He was run over by a motor car, two years ago, in +Paris. That is why I am so afraid of them. We lived in Paris then, and +Papa and Maman Remo had a house where they took lodgers. There was a +shop on the first floor, and they sold beautiful flowers. But after +papa was killed maman could not pay the rent, and so we came here to +Nice, and she does washing for the people in the hotels, and Pierre and +I earn money, too."</p> + +<p>"I know you do," said Maisie eagerly. "I heard you sing in front of our +hotel this afternoon. I threw you some pennies, and I wondered why you +never looked up or smiled, as the other musicians do."</p> + +<p>Celeste flushed. "That was because I could not see you, and Pierre does +not always tell me when people throw pennies. He is afraid I will keep +the account, and tell Maman Remo if he does not bring all the money +home."</p> + +<p>"Pierre must be a very bad boy," said Maisie, with conviction.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid he is not always good, and it is a great pity, because +his mother loves him so much, and it makes her so unhappy when he does +mean, bad things."</p> + +<p>"When did you first come to live with Maman Remo?" inquired Maisie, who +was beginning to find this new acquaintance very interesting.</p> + +<p>"It was five years ago, just after my own papa died, that maman and +Louis and I came to her house to live. My papa was a great singer. He +had a wonderful voice, and he sang at the opera in Paris. But he caught +a terrible cold one winter, and lost his voice, and after that we were +very poor. He was ill for a long time, and maman nursed him, and after +he died she was ill too. Maman Remo says it was because she had worked +so hard to nurse papa and take care of us all. She used to sew all +day to earn money for us, and they paid her so little at the shops. +She lived a year after we came to the Remo's, and then she died too, +and Louis and I were left alone. Louis used to help in the shop, but +he never liked it. He had a beautiful voice; even more beautiful than +papa's, and he loved music better than anything else in the world. So +when maman was dead, he went away to seek his fortune."</p> + +<p>"It's very interesting," said Maisie; "it sounds just like a story. Why +doesn't your brother ever write to you or let you know where he is?"</p> + +<p>"He would not know where to write. You see, there was no way of telling +him when we left Paris, after Papa Remo was killed. Maman Remo cannot +write."</p> + +<p>"How queer," said Maisie. "I thought all grown-up people could write. +Suppose your brother comes home some time, and wants to find you; how +will he be able to do it?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know," said Celeste, mournfully. "It is very sad, and I often +cry about it. I am sure he will come some time, and if he does not find +us he will be so unhappy, for he was always good, and we loved each +other very much."</p> + +<p>The little blind girl looked so sad and distressed, that Maisie thought +it might be as well to change the subject, so, after they had both been +silent for a moment, and Antoine had given a direction about the next +turning, she inquired whether Celeste was not glad Christmas was so +near.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, very glad," said the child, her face brightening. "I love +Christmas. Maman used to say I must always love it, because my name, +Celeste Noel, means Celestial Christmas."</p> + +<p>"I think it is a beautiful name," said Maisie, much impressed. "I wish +mine were half as pretty, but it's just plain Mary Barton, though +everybody calls me Maisie. Do you always have a good time on Christmas?"</p> + +<p>"I used to have beautiful times when maman was alive, and Louis was at +home, and even now I love it very much."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do this year?" Maisie inquired, with interest.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Maman Remo will take me to High Mass at the cathedral, and the +music will be beautiful. I think I love music as much as Louis does, +though I have not his wonderful voice. In the afternoon perhaps she +will take me to the concert in the Public Gardens. She is too busy to +take me other days, and Pierre does not like music, though he plays the +mandolin for me to sing, but no one ever works on Christmas, not even +Maman Remo."</p> + +<p>"And don't you expect any presents? I thought everybody had some kind +of presents on Christmas."</p> + +<p>"I used to have presents when maman and Louis were here, but Maman Remo +is very poor; she has no money to spend for such things."</p> + +<p>Maisie was silent for a moment. The thought of a Christmas without +presents was such a new one, that it took time to accustom herself to +it. She really could not imagine what such a Christmas would be like. +Then another idea flashed into her mind, and she inquired, eagerly—</p> + +<p>"But suppose you knew you were to have a present—what would you rather +have than anything else?"</p> + +<p>"I know what I would like best, but I could never have it; it is too +expensive."</p> + +<p>"What is it? Do please tell me."</p> + +<p>"The little statue of the Blessed Mother with the Baby Jesus in her +arms. It is in the window of a shop on the Boulevard Messina. Pierre +told me about it, and one day we went into the shop, and the man was +very kind. He let me hold it in my hand, it was so beautiful to feel +the dear Mother's face and the precious Baby's. I would rather have it +than anything else in the world."</p> + +<p>"And how much does it cost?" Maisie asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a great deal of money; nearly twenty francs. Certainly we could +never buy such a beautiful thing."</p> + +<p>"Twenty francs is four dollars, isn't it?" said Maisie reflectively. +"Four dollars isn't very much. I spent five for mamma's Christmas +present last year, and nearly six for papa's."</p> + +<p>Celeste's astonishment was almost too great for words.</p> + +<p>"You Americans must be very rich indeed," she said. "We heard about how +rich you were. That is why Louis wanted to go to America to seek his +fortune."</p> + +<p>"There are a good many poor people in America, too," said Maisie. "I +think there must be poor people everywhere. I think I would rather be +poor in Nice than in New York. New York is such a big, noisy place, but +Morristown, where my home is, is lovely."</p> + +<p>Celeste began to look troubled again.</p> + +<p>"I hope Louis is not very poor," she said, in a tone of real distress. +"Sometimes I am so afraid he may be, even poorer than we are. I lie +awake thinking about it at night."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said practical Maisie. "He may not +be poor at all, you know, and if he isn't, you are worrying all for +nothing. Auntie Belle says it is very foolish to worry about things +until you are sure they are going to happen. That's what she said to +mamma when I was ill last winter, and mamma thought I was getting +scarlet fever. It turned out not to be scarlet fever, at all, only +German measles, so Auntie Belle was quite right. How old was Louis +when he went away to seek his fortune?"</p> + +<p>"Just eighteen, and I was eight. He is ten years older than me. He is +twenty-two now, and I am twelve."</p> + +<p>"A big boy of eighteen ought to be able to take care of himself," +Maisie remarked, with cheerful conviction. "I really don't believe you +need worry about him. Perhaps he will be very rich when he comes home. +In stories the people who go to seek their fortunes always come home +rich."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I care very much about his being rich if he is only +well and strong," said Celeste, with a sigh. "I do miss him so much. +Sometimes it seems as if I couldn't wait, but Maman Remo says I must +pray to the good God every day, and by and by He will let Louis come +home and find us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am sure He will," said Maisie, "and I know Louis will be rich, +too, like the people in books. I don't suppose you ever have to go to +school or learn lessons, on account of being—the way you are, you +know."</p> + +<p>"No," said Celeste, "but I wish I could. I don't want to grow up +ignorant like Maman Remo."</p> + +<p>"But I don't see how you can help it; you couldn't learn to read and +write like other people, could you?"</p> + +<p>"Not just the same, but I could learn to read and write the way blind +people do. If I could only go to the school for the blind in Paris, I +should be so happy."</p> + +<p>Maisie was more surprised by this remark than by anything her new +friend had said yet. That any person in her senses should actually wish +to go to school and to learn lessons, was a state of affairs that she +had never even contemplated as the wildest possibility.</p> + +<p>"I never heard of a school for the blind," she said, doubtfully; "is it +a nice place?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is a beautiful place! I was there once, when I was a very +little girl. Maman and Louis went with me, and a kind gentleman took us +around, and told us such interesting things. There were books full of +little dots that the blind children read with their fingers, and raised +maps to teach them geography, and they let me take them, and told me +how they used them. And, oh, so many other wonderful things! But the +best of all was the music. Some of the children played and sang for us, +and it was beautiful. I wanted to stay there, but the gentleman said +they did not take any children under eight, and I was only six."</p> + +<p>"Well, you are more than eight now, so why don't you go, if you think +you will like it so much?" Maisie inquired, with interest.</p> + +<p>"Because Paris is so far away, and it costs so much money to go there. +Besides there is no one to take me, and I cannot go by myself. If Louis +were here, I know he would take me."</p> + +<p>"I should think you would be glad you didn't have to go," said Maisie +cheerfully. "I know I should be if I were you. You are the first girl I +have ever met who was sorry because she couldn't go to school. I go to +school at home, but the very best part about coming abroad this year, +was that I wouldn't have to go all winter. At first mamma thought of +taking a governess, and that would have been dreadful, but papa said +he was sure I would learn enough travelling in different countries, so +mamma changed her mind, and I only have to do history and spelling for +an hour every morning with her or with Auntie Belle."</p> + +<p>Celeste said nothing, and there was a short silence, which was broken +by Antoine's direction—</p> + +<p>"This is the street, Mademoiselle; it is the first house on the left."</p> + +<p>They turned into a little narrow back street, lined on both sides with +small, shabby houses, before the very smallest and shabbiest of which +the ponies were brought to stand, and the groom sprang to the ground, +and came round to the side of the cart, to help the little blind girl +out.</p> + +<p>Françoise, who had been feeling far from comfortable during the short +drive, looked decidedly relieved.</p> + +<p>"Bid the little girl good-bye at once, Mademoiselle Maisie," she said; +"it is getting late."</p> + +<p>But Maisie was in no hurry.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," she said, reluctantly. "Are you sure you will find some one +at home? I don't like to leave you alone again."</p> + +<p>Celeste smiled, and explained that she did not in the least mind being +alone at home; it was only in the street that she was afraid.</p> + +<p>"Besides, I am quite sure Maman Remo will be in this afternoon," she +added. "She is ironing some clothes that must go back to one of the +hotels to-night."</p> + +<p>But Maisie insisted that Antoine should take the little blind girl +in, and make sure that she was quite safe before leaving her. She +would have greatly enjoyed going in herself, and making Maman Remo's +acquaintance, but that she dared not suggest, well knowing that +Françoise would never consent to such a proceeding. So she bade Celeste +good-bye regretfully, and watched the little figure disappear with +Antoine into the small, shabby house. In a few moments the boy returned.</p> + +<p>"Was Maman Remo at home?" she inquired anxiously, as Antoine resumed +his seat, and the ponies started off at a leisurely trot.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mademoiselle, and she was very angry when she heard what had +happened. That Pierre of hers is a beast. No one but a beast would +leave a little blind child alone in the streets like that. He deserves +a good beating."</p> + +<p>"Have you known the family long?" asked Françoise, who was, perhaps, +more interested in poor little Celeste than she cared to show.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, a long time. Every one knows Madame Remo, and every one is +sorry for the child; she is such a dear little thing. Madame Remo works +very hard, and Pierre is too lazy to be of any help. The only thing he +will do is to play his mandolin for Celeste to sing, and even that he +is getting tired of. You see how he treats her. Madame Remo is a very +good woman; my mother respects her greatly."</p> + +<p>"She must be a good woman to keep that child all these years," observed +Françoise, sympathetically. "I do not suppose she receives a penny for +it."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, not one. People often ask her why she does not send +Celeste to the asylum, but she says she loves the child like her own, +and nothing will induce her to part with her."</p> + +<p>"Françoise," said Maisie, with sudden determination, "I'm not going +shopping; I'm going straight home. I've got a beautiful plan, and I +want to tell papa and mamma all about it."</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Barton and Auntie Belle were just starting out for an +afternoon walk when the pony cart drew up once more before the Hotel de +Nice. With one bound, Maisie was on the sidewalk, and had seized her +father's hand in both her own.</p> + +<p>"I've found somebody, Papa," she cried, joyously. "You said a good many +things might happen in a week, and one has happened already. She's +a little blind girl, the same one that sang in front of the hotel +this afternoon, only then I didn't know she was blind. She hasn't +any father or mother, only a brother, and he's gone away to seek his +fortune. She doesn't expect a single Christmas present because Maman +Remo, who is a very good woman, Antoine says, is very poor, but she +loves Christmas just the same, because her name is Celeste Noel, which +means Celestial Christmas. The thing she wants most in the world is a +little statue that costs twenty francs. I want to buy it for her, and +a lot of other things besides. Please say I can. You said I could make +somebody else's Christmas as merry as mine was last year. I thought I +wouldn't care much about doing it at first, but I've changed my mind, +and just think what a beautiful surprise it will be for poor little +Celeste!"</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</h2> +</div> + + +<p>"Are you ready, Auntie Belle?"</p> + +<p>"I'll be ready in five minutes. Now do be quiet, Maisie, like a good +girl, and let me finish this letter. I want it to catch the next mail."</p> + +<p>Maisie heaved an impatient sigh, and shifted her position from one foot +to the other. She was standing in the doorway of her aunt's room, ready +dressed for a morning walk, and Auntie Belle was hurriedly finishing a +letter, begun several days before, to a girl friend at home. There was +a short silence, and then Maisie broke out again—</p> + +<p>"Seems to me you are always writing letters, Auntie Belle, how can you +think of so many things to say to people?"</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle made no answer, but continued scribbling away in silence.</p> + +<p>"I never can think of things to say when I write letters," Maisie went +on, ignoring her aunt's silence. "Mamma said I must write to Grandma +yesterday, and I did, but the letter was only a page long. How many +pages is yours?"</p> + +<p>"Maisie, if you don't go away and leave me to finish this letter in +peace, I shall never be ready to go Christmas shopping with you this +morning. I told you I would be through in five minutes, and so I will +if you will only leave me alone. Do run away and talk to some one else, +and I'll find you when I'm ready."</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll go downstairs, and you can meet me in the hall, but be +sure you do come in five minutes. If you don't I shall have to come and +hurry you up. We've got a great deal of shopping to do this morning, +and if we don't start soon we won't be through in time for lunch."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle murmured something unintelligible, and Maisie departed +reluctantly. When her aunt came hurrying downstairs some ten minutes +later, with her letter in her hand, she found the little girl in +the lower hall, in earnest conversation with Madame Strobel, the +pleasant-faced landlady.</p> + +<p>"I've been telling Madame all about my plan," she explained, "and she's +so interested. She knows Celeste and Maman Remo, too."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do indeed," said the landlady, heartily. "Madame Remo has +washed for us ever since she came to Nice, and a very good and worthy +woman she is. As for the little blind girl, every one is interested in +her. Has Mademoiselle perhaps heard her sing?"</p> + +<p>"Only once," said Auntie Belle, "and then it was in the distance, but I +remember thinking the child had an unusually sweet voice."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it pleasant to be doing kind things for 'worthy' people?" +remarked Maisie, as she and her aunt walked down the street together. +"I think it's one of the pleasantest things I've ever done. Do you +know, I've decided to be a philanthropist when I grow up? It's so +interesting making other people happy."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle laughed.</p> + +<p>"You will have to have plenty of money if you are going to be a +philanthropist," she said. "It might be as well to begin to save a +little now, don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>Maisie's bright face was clouded for a moment, and she looked a little +puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I hate saving money," she said; "there are always so many things I +want to spend it for. Besides, philanthropists are always generous. I +don't see how I can save my allowance and be generous at the same time."</p> + +<p>"That is a problem which has troubled older heads than yours, I +fancy," said Auntie Belle, "but I don't think I would worry about it +just yet if I were you. You have had a good many plans for your future, +and you know you might happen to change again. I think the last idea +was to be a circus rider, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>Maisie felt sure her aunt was laughing at her, and as she objected +to being laughed at as much as most little girls do, she hastened to +change the subject by saying—</p> + +<p>"I keep thinking of more and more things that I want for the tree. It +won't do to have candles, because Celeste couldn't see them, and might +burn herself if she went too near. I want her to be able to feel all +the things, and even take them off the tree herself if she would like +to. I suppose it must be a great comfort to a blind person to feel +things, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle said she supposed it must be, and Maisie chatted on +happily.</p> + +<p>"First of all, we must buy the statue, because that is the most +important. Won't she be happy when she gets it? Then we must have some +candy, of course, and a sachet. Françoise says she is sure Celeste +would like a sachet with perfume in it. I think I'll get a bottle of +cologne, too—blind people must like nice things to smell. Then I want +to get a pretty little purse for her to keep her pennies in, and a pair +of soft lined gloves to keep her hands warm. I suppose she's too old +for toys, but perhaps we can find some pretty little things that she'd +like to feel. Mamma's going to give an envelope with money in it, so +Maman Remo can buy her some shoes and stockings, but I want all the +other things to come from me."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle—who had been much interested in all she had heard of the +little blind girl—was quite ready to listen, and sympathize, and the +two chatted on pleasantly till they reached the Place Messina, the +principal shopping district in Nice.</p> + +<p>"It's so much more fun shopping with you than with Françoise," Maisie +remarked, with a little skip of delight, as they turned into the busy +thoroughfare. "I suppose I ought to be very sorry for her headache, but +if she hadn't one this morning, you would have gone off somewhere with +papa and mamma, and I shouldn't have had you to help me choose things. +Oh, look at those Christmas trees! Don't they smell like home? I was +afraid nothing over here was going to seem a bit like Christmas, but +it's beginning to, just a little."</p> + +<p>It was a glorious morning, and the Place was crowded with busy +Christmas shoppers. Many of them were English and Americans, who were +wintering at the gay resort, but there was a goodly sprinkling of +natives as well, and it seemed to Maisie and her aunt that everybody +was looking unusually happy. They had no difficulty in finding the shop +with the little statues in the window and Maisie at once recognized +Celeste's favorite, the Virgin Mother, with the infant Jesus in her +arms.</p> + +<p>"I want that one," she announced, before the obliging shop-keeper had +time to inquire their wishes. "It costs twenty francs, I know."</p> + +<p>The man looked surprised, and Maisie hastened to explain in her +friendly way.</p> + +<p>"The reason I know how much it costs is because a little blind girl +told me. She said you were very kind, and let her take it in her hand +one day. She wants it more than anything else in the world, and I'm +going to give it to her for a Christmas present."</p> + +<p>The shop-keeper's face lighted up with pleasure.</p> + +<p>"I remember the child well," he said. "Indeed I would gladly have given +her the little image, but alas! we are poor people, and cannot afford +to be generous."</p> + +<p>Maisie thought he must be a very good man, even if he could not afford +to be generous, and she made several other purchases at his shop, as +well as the little statue, which Auntie Belle privately considered very +ugly.</p> + +<p>It took Maisie a long time to buy all she wanted, as each article +required a great deal of thought and consideration, and a good part of +the morning was passed in the shops. Auntie Belle was most kind and +sympathetic, but she grew a little tired after a time, and when at +last Maisie's money was nearly all gone, and at least a dozen parcels +had been ordered to be sent to their hotel, she proposed that they +should not shop any more that morning, but go to Rumpelmeyer's, the big +confectioner's, and have a cup of chocolate before going home.</p> + +<p>"All right," agreed Maisie, readily, "and please let me treat; I've got +nearly three francs left."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle thanked her, but insisted on doing the "treating" herself +this time, and ten minutes later they were sitting at a little table, +sipping delicious chocolate, with whipped cream on the top.</p> + +<p>"My, but this is good!" exclaimed Maisie rapturously. "Do you suppose +that poor little Celeste ever has anything as delicious as this?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she wouldn't consider it delicious," said Auntie Belle. "I +once asked a little girl in my mission class whether she liked ice +cream, and she replied that it was first rate, but she liked olives and +sausage better."</p> + +<p>"What a queer taste she must have had," said Maisie, looking disgusted, +"but I'm sure Celeste isn't that kind of person at all. Her father was +an opera singer, and she has such pretty manners. Even Françoise says +she is very refined, and you know Françoise doesn't generally care for +poor children."</p> + +<p>"I am really very anxious to see that Celeste of yours," said Auntie +Belle. "From your description she must be quite a paragon."</p> + +<p>"You can see her whenever you want to," said Maisie, eagerly. "Let's go +to her house now, on the way home. I know the way, and I can invite her +to the Christmas tree."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle glanced doubtfully at her watch.</p> + +<p>"It's after twelve," she said; "I'm afraid there won't be time before +luncheon."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes there will; we don't have it till half-past one, and you +know papa is always late. Mamma said I might stop and ask her this +afternoon, when I am out with the ponies, but it would be so much nicer +to have you with me."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle yielded. She had really some curiosity to see the +child about whom she had heard so much, and besides, she was a very +good-natured girl, and was always glad to give any one pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Very well," she said; "finish your chocolate, and we will go. I don't +suppose it can be far."</p> + +<p>Maisie replied that it was not far at all, and proceeded to drink her +chocolate so fast that it burnt her tongue.</p> + +<p>Just as they were rising to leave the shop, a party of ladies came in, +one of whom recognized Auntie Belle as an old acquaintance.</p> + +<p>"Why, if it isn't Isabel Barton!" she exclaimed in surprise, as she +hurried forward, and smilingly held out her hand. "I had no idea you +were here."</p> + +<p>"I have been here for over a week," said Auntie Belle, returning her +friend's greeting heartily. "I came over in November with my brother +and his wife and little girl, and we expect to spend some time here +before going to Italy."</p> + +<p>"How delightful! We are here for the winter, and have taken a villa. +My sister is just over typhoid, and the doctor has sent her to The +Riviera to recuperate. We like it immensely here, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle said she thought the place beautiful, but rather quiet so +early in the season.</p> + +<p>"It is rather early for gaiety," her friend agreed, "but we have +enjoyed every moment. Of course you have been to the opera."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle replied that they had not been as yet, but that her +brother had promised to take them some evening, whereupon her +friend—who was an enthusiastic young person—launched forth on +an account of a wonderful performance that she and her family had +witnessed the previous night.</p> + +<p>"You must go," she declared, "if only for the sake of hearing that +wonderful young tenor. His voice is simply divine, and every one is +wild about him. He made his <i>début</i> in Paris in the autumn, and I +believe Hammerstein has engaged him to sing in New York next season. He +isn't much more than a boy, and the best-looking creature you ever saw."</p> + +<p>"Would you like to be a tenor, Auntie Belle?" Maisie asked, when she +and her aunt had at last escaped from the talkative young lady, and +were hurrying along the street in the direction of the shabby little +house where Celeste Noel lived with Maman Remo.</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle laughed heartily. "You funny child," she said; "why in the +world should I want to be a tenor?"</p> + +<p>"Why, because every one would admire you, and come crowding to hear you +sing. I should love to have people admire me. Could a lady be a tenor +if she was very fond of music, and studied very hard?"</p> + +<p>"Hardly, but she might be a soprano, which I should think would be +equally satisfactory."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps that is what Celeste will be," said Maisie reflectively. "She +has a beautiful voice, and so has her brother Louis, and her father was +an opera singer before he caught cold and lost his voice."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle admitted that it might be possible, and then she asked +a question about something else, and no more was said on the subject +of singers. A brisk walk of ten minutes brought them to the little +back street Maisie remembered, and Auntie Belle looked about her with +considerable interest. She was used to poverty at home, having spent +some months in a New York settlement, and it surprised her to find +how much more thrifty foreigners of a similar class appeared to be. +Poor and small as these houses were, each one was occupied by a single +family, and in many windows she saw blooming plants, while some even +boasted a canary in a gilt cage.</p> + +<p>"This is where she lives," announced Maisie, pausing before the door +through which she had watched the little blind girl disappear two days +before. "There doesn't seem to be any door-bell, so I suppose we'd +better knock. Oh, listen; she's singing."</p> + +<p>One of the windows was open, and through it could be distinctly heard +the sound of a clear, childish voice singing an old Christmas Carol. +"<i>Noel, Noel, tous chantantes!</i>" Auntie Belle loved music dearly, and +both played and sang herself. And as she listened to the little blind +girl's singing, her expression changed from good-natured curiosity to +real interest.</p> + +<p>"That child has a beautiful voice," she said, decidedly; "she should +not be allowed to strain it."</p> + +<p>Maisie was delighted. "I told you what a lovely voice she had," she +said triumphantly; "now you see it's true."</p> + +<p>Just then Celeste's song came to an end, and the sound of a broom could +be heard.</p> + +<p>"Maman Remo must be sweeping," said Maisie. "I hope she won't mind our +coming before she's finished her work."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle said she did not believe Maman Remo would mind being +disturbed, and promptly knocked at the door. There was a moment's +silence, then footsteps approached, and the door was opened by the +little blind girl herself.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Celeste?" said Maisie, in her friendly way. "I'm Maisie +Barton, the girl who brought you home in the pony-cart the other day."</p> + +<p>Celeste's face was suddenly irradiated by the brightest of smiles.</p> + +<p>"I know you," she cried, eagerly; "I remember your voice. Will you +please come in?"</p> + +<p>"My aunt is here, too," Maisie explained. "I brought her to see you."</p> + +<p>Celeste turned her bright welcoming face in the direction where she +believed the stranger to be, and held out her hand.</p> + +<p>"It was very kind of you to come," she said, in her pretty, refined +little voice. "I am sorry Maman Remo is out."</p> + +<p>"We have come to see you," said the young lady, kindly, and she took +the little outstretched hand and held it. Auntie Belle spoke French +as well as Celeste herself, for she had been educated at a Paris +boarding-school.</p> + +<p>Celeste led the way into the house, which appeared to consist of but +one room on the first floor, and drew two chairs for her visitors. +Maisie gazed at her in astonishment, for the little blind girl moved +about with as much ease as any seeing person, and appeared to know just +where to find everything she wanted. There was a large hole in the +bottom of one chair, and the other was also sadly the worse for wear. +Maisie was sure she had never seen such a poorly furnished room, but +Auntie Belle, accustomed to the homes of poor people at home, took in +all the details at a glance, and noticed with satisfaction that the +little house was scrupulously neat. Celeste was also neat, though her +calico dress had two large darns in the skirt, and her feet were bare.</p> + +<p>"We heard some one sweeping before we knocked," remarked Maisie, +curiously. "We thought it must be Maman Remo."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Maman Remo has gone down to the river to wash. I am all alone, +but I am never afraid of being alone in the house."</p> + +<p>Maisie glanced at the broom, which had been hastily thrust into a +corner and her wonder and interest grew.</p> + +<p>"Can you really sweep?" she demanded, incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I can do many things. Maman Remo will not let me touch the +stove for fear of being burned, but I sweep and wash the dishes, and +make the beds."</p> + +<p>"You are the most wonderful person I ever heard of," said Maisie, in a +tone of conviction. "I always thought blind people just sat still all +the time unless somebody led them about."</p> + +<p>Celeste's laugh rang out merrily. She had a very musical laugh, and +there was something contagious in it, for before they quite realized +it, Auntie Belle and Maisie were both laughing, too.</p> + +<p>"You should see the children at the school in Paris," said Celeste, +when she had recovered her gravity. "They can do many more things than +I. The girls sew and knit, and the boys do carpenter's work. Then you +should hear them at their recreation. They shout and laugh, and chase +each other about the garden. My brother said he had never seen boys +play games better than they do."</p> + +<p>"It must be a wonderful place," said Maisie, much impressed. "I am +going to ask papa to take me there the next time we are in Paris. I +shouldn't think it would be so very bad to be blind, after all."</p> + +<p>A shadow crossed Celeste's bright face.</p> + +<p>"It may not be so bad if one has money and people to take one about," +she said, gravely, "but it is hard to be always dependent upon some one +who does not want the trouble."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean Pierre?" inquired Maisie, with a sudden recollection of +what the little blind girl had told her about Maman Remo's boy.</p> + +<p>Celeste nodded, and her lip quivered slightly.</p> + +<p>"Pierre always hated taking me about," she said, "but there was no one +else to do it, for poor Maman Remo is busy all day long. Now Pierre has +run away, and I don't know how I am ever going to earn any more money."</p> + +<p>"Run away?" repeated Maisie. "What a dreadful thing! What made him do +it?"</p> + +<p>"He has been threatening to do it for a long time. He wants to go to +sea and be a sailor. We hoped he would not really go, at least not +until he is older, for he is only fifteen, but the day he left me alone +on the Promenade Anglaise, and you brought me home, Maman Remo was very +angry, and she threatened to beat him if he ever did such a thing +again, Pierre was furious, and went out, saying he would never come +back. Maman Remo did not believe him at first, but when night came, and +he did not come home, she was frightened, and at last she went out to +look for him, but she could not find him, and when she came back again +I heard her crying for a long time. That was two days ago, and Pierre +has never come home since and now we are sure he has really gone for +good. A man, Maman Remo knows, thinks he saw him far out on the road +that leads to Marseilles, where the big ships are, but it is such a +long way off, maman is afraid he may die of hunger before he reaches +there."</p> + +<p>"He is such a bad boy that I shouldn't think she would care very much +what happened to him," said Maisie. But Celeste looked quite horrified.</p> + +<p>"I think all mothers must love their children whether they are bad or +good," she said. "Maman Remo loves Pierre, bad as he is, just as much +as my own maman loved Louis, who was the best boy in the world. It has +nearly broken her heart to have him run away like this. I would not +mind myself, for Pierre was often very unkind, but now that he is gone +there is no one to take me to sing in front of the hotels. I cannot +earn any more money, and we need money so much."</p> + +<p>"We heard you singing before we came in," said Maisie, "and Auntie +Belle said you had a beautiful voice."</p> + +<p>"I did indeed think so," said Auntie Belle, kindly. It was the first +time she had spoken since coming into the little house, but it was +never easy to break in upon Maisie's chatter, and she had really been +interested in the conversation of the children. "I think you have a +very sweet voice, and I hope that you may be able to have it properly +trained when you are older."</p> + +<p>Celeste looked much flattered.</p> + +<p>"If I could go to the school for the blind," she said, "I could have +regular singing lessons. That was one reason why maman and Louis were +so anxious to send me there."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you will be a soprano when you grow up," remarked Maisie, glad +of an opportunity of airing her new word. "You can't be a tenor because +you are a girl. There is a very wonderful tenor singing at the opera +here now. A young lady was telling Auntie Belle about him this morning."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Celeste, eagerly; "I have heard of him, too. Madame +Dupont—Antoine's mother—goes to the opera sometimes, and she heard +him last week. She says he has the voice of an angel. Oh, what would I +not give to hear him!"</p> + +<p>"Have you ever been to the opera?" Maisie inquired, wonderingly. To her +the opera was merely a rather tiresome place, where people were obliged +to sit very still, and not even whisper, and where little girls were +sometimes taken on Saturday afternoons, because their mammas hoped it +might improve their taste in music. Celeste, however, appeared to have +different ideas about it.</p> + +<p>"No, I have never been," she said, regretfully. "I was too little to go +when my papa sang there, and it is much too expensive for Maman Remo. +Perhaps I shall go some day, if Louis ever comes home, for he loves the +opera better than any other place in the world, and I am sure I should +love it, too."</p> + +<p>Maisie looked doubtful.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you might be disappointed," she said, "I was disappointed the +first time mamma took me, but then I can't sing, and perhaps that makes +all the difference."</p> + +<p>At this moment Auntie Belle glanced at her watch, and rose to go.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid we cannot stay any longer, Maisie," she said, "or we shall +be late for luncheon. Don't forget to tell Celeste what you came for."</p> + +<p>"Of course I won't forget," said Maisie, laughing; "I was just keeping +it for the last. Celeste, I came to invite you to my Christmas Tree. We +are going to have it on Christmas morning at eleven o'clock."</p> + +<p>"A Christmas Tree!" gasped Celeste, clasping her hands rapturously. +"Oh, how beautiful! I have never been to a Christmas Tree, but I have +smelled of them in the street."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope you will do something more than smell one this time," +said Maisie. "Mamma says she will be glad to see Maman Remo, too, if +she can bring you. I think she knows our landlady, Madame Strobel."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Madame Strobel is our good friend, and I am sure Maman will +bring me, for she never washes on Christmas. But—but—you are so good; +is there not something I can do for you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want anything—" began Maisie, but Auntie Belle, noticing the +child's eager, wistful expression, hastened to add kindly—</p> + +<p>"You can do something for us now if you will. Let us hear one song +before we go. We have only time for one."</p> + +<p>Celeste was charmed, and standing with folded hands, and a look of +quiet rapture on her face, she sang the beautiful Christmas song, +beginning "<i>Noel, Joyeuse Noel</i>."</p> + +<p>There were tears in Auntie Belle's eyes when the little blind girl had +finished her song, and the tone in which she thanked her was not quite +steady.</p> + +<p>"Isn't she interesting and wonderful and dear?" burst out Maisie, the +moment Maman Remo's door had closed behind them, and her aunt answered +heartily—</p> + +<p>"She is one of the sweetest children I have ever seen, and I am sure +your papa will be fascinated by her voice."</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</h2> +</div> + + +<p>It was Christmas Eve. All day the rain had fallen in a steady +down-pour, but at about four o'clock the wind had suddenly changed, the +sky cleared, and Nice had been treated to one of the glorious sunsets +for which the place is famous. The wind blew in sharp gusts through the +streets, giving an almost wintry feeling to the air, and Maisie, who +had gone out for a brisk walk with her father, gave little skips of +delight, declaring that it was really beginning to feel like Christmas.</p> + +<p>But in Maman Remo's tiny house, where the wind found its way through +every crack, it was not so pleasant. Indeed, it was most uncomfortably +chilly, for the fire in the stove had gone out, and there was nobody +to relight it. Maman Remo had not yet come home, and Celeste had been +forbidden to go near the stove. When Pierre was at home he usually +attended to the fire, but now the little blind girl was quite alone. +It was growing dark, too, but that Celeste did not notice, for to her +night and day were all the same, but the afternoon had seemed unusually +long, and she was beginning to wonder what could have kept Maman Remo +out so late.</p> + +<p>"It cannot possibly have taken her all this time to bring home the +clean clothes to the hotels," she said to herself. "I wish she would +come."</p> + +<p>But there was nothing to be gained by wishing, and so, being a +practical little person, not given to fretting over what could not be +helped, Celeste tried to think of something else. To-morrow would be +Christmas, and she would go to the little American girl's Christmas +Tree. How pleased Maman Remo had been to hear of the invitation! +"Then you will have a happy Christmas, my little one," she had said. +"Certainly I will take you to the hotel, and chat with the good Madame +Strobel until you are ready to return." It was very kind of Maman Remo +to be so much interested, for this would be a very sad Christmas to +her. Troublesome and disobedient as Pierre had often been, his mother +loved him dearly, and the thought of her only child wandering penniless +through the country, perhaps suffering from cold and hunger, was a +very terrible one to the poor woman. Celeste could hear her crying +every night when she thought the child was asleep, and she found that +it would not do to think much about Maman Remo if she wanted to be +cheerful on Christmas Eve. So she fell back on her one never failing +resource when she was sad or gay; she began to sing. She chose the +gayest song she knew, and again, as on the day when Maisie and her +aunt had made their call, the strains of "<i>Noel, Noel, tous chantantes +Noel!</i>" echoed through the little house. When she reached the end of +her song, she sang it over again. Indeed, she sang it half a dozen +times, for it was one of her favorites, and she did not want to sing +any but Christmas songs on Christmas Eve. But at last her throat +grew tired, and she felt that she could not sing any more. Then it +was very quiet in the little house. Outside the wind whistled and +howled, shaking the crazy windows in their frames, but inside the only +sound to break the stillness was the ticking of the old wooden clock. +Celeste could hear the ticking, but she could not see the time. A +mouse scuttled across the floor, with a little squeak, and the child +shivered, and her heart began to beat uncomfortably fast. She was never +afraid to be left alone in the house in the day-time, but after dark it +was different, and she felt sure it must be after dark now. What could +be keeping Maman Remo out so late?</p> + +<p>At last her quick ear caught the sound of an approaching footstep; the +handle of the door was turned, and some one came in.</p> + +<p>"Maman Remo," cried Celeste, joyfully, "is it Maman Remo?"</p> + +<p>"Surely, my little one; who else should it be? I am sorry to be so +late, but I was detained. Were you afraid?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Celeste cheerfully, "not really afraid, but a little +anxious. Your voice sounds tired, Maman."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, I am tired—very tired, and it is cold. I will hasten to +light the fire."</p> + +<p>"How I wish I could do it for you while you rest," said Celeste, +regretfully. But Maman Remo shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, no, that is strictly forbidden," she said, with decision. +"Remember the poor blind woman Madame Dupont told us about, who was +burned to death trying to light a fire, that her husband and son should +find a warm house. Ah, but I am sorry you have been cold, my little +one."</p> + +<p>"It has not been so bad," Celeste assured her, "and it will soon be +warm now. Where have you been to keep you so late?"</p> + +<p>"I have told you I was detained. Children should not ask questions. Now +bring me the matches and some wood, that you can do without danger."</p> + +<p>Maman Remo's tone was cheerful, but perhaps it was as well that Celeste +could not see how white and tired her face looked. The child ran +eagerly for the matches, and the woman bent over the stove, trying to +warm herself at the burned out embers. There was a worried, almost +frightened look in her eyes, and in spite of all her efforts to appear +as usual, the little blind girl felt sure something was wrong.</p> + +<p>She stood by in silence while Maman Remo lighted the lamp, and started +the fire, and the troubled look deepened in her own face.</p> + +<p>"Have you had any news of Pierre to-day?" she inquired, timidly, when +the fire had been coaxed into a blaze, and she and Maman Remo were +warming themselves before it.</p> + +<p>"Not one word. I fear he has left us forever—my poor Pierre."</p> + +<p>Maman Remo heaved a sigh, but her voice sounded preoccupied, and +Celeste feared it could not be only anxiety about Pierre that was +troubling her kind friend to-night.</p> + +<p>"Are we going to the midnight mass?" she asked, after a moment's pause.</p> + +<p>Maman Remo started as if the question had brought her thoughts back +from somewhere a long way off.</p> + +<p>"Midnight mass," she repeated, vaguely. "Ah, surely, I had forgotten. +Would it disappoint you very much to stay at home to-night, my little +one? It is cold and I am very tired."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Celeste, eagerly, "I should not mind at all. I am sorry +you are so tired, dear Maman; I am afraid you work too hard."</p> + +<p>"It is not the work that troubles me," said Maman Remo, with another +sigh. "I have worked hard all my life. If I can only keep my health, I +shall not mind anything else."</p> + +<p>"Are you not well, then—have you the pain in your back again?" Celeste +spoke quickly, and her face grew very grave.</p> + +<p>But Maman Remo did not seem disposed to talk about herself. With an +effort she shook off the weariness or depression which seemed to be +troubling her, and without answering Celeste's question, she began +hurrying about preparing the frugal supper of brown bread and milk, +which composed their usual evening meal. Celeste was very quiet all +through supper, but oddly enough, Maman Remo, who was usually so quick +to notice the child's every mood, did not seem to observe it. She was +really disappointed about the midnight mass, to which she had been +looking forward for weeks, but she did not want Maman Remo to know she +cared. Then, too, she was worried, though she could not have explained +why even to herself. It was very strange to hear Maman Remo, who had +always been so strong, complain of being tired. Was it only the anxiety +about Pierre that was troubling her, or was there some other cause, +of which she, Celeste, knew nothing? She had always been old for her +age—many blind children are—and perhaps few little girls of twelve +are often visited by such serious reflections as those which troubled +Celeste on that Christmas Eve.</p> + +<p>"You do not eat your supper. Are you not hungry this evening?"</p> + +<p>Maman Remo's tone sounded impatient, but it was the impatience of +anxiety.</p> + +<p>"I am not very hungry," Celeste answered, laying down her spoon. "I am +never so hungry when I have stayed in the house all day."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you tire of the same food every day, but meat is so dear this +winter."</p> + +<p>"I do not care for meat," Celeste protested. "Have you eaten a good +supper yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, good enough. It does not matter about me, but you must not lose +your appetite. When I was your age I could eat nails."</p> + +<p>"Nails would be very bad for the digestion," said Celeste, laughing. +"But if you have finished, may I not clear the table and wash the +dishes?"</p> + +<p>Maman Remo said she might, and while Celeste bustled about, busy with +the little household tasks she loved, the woman watched her sadly, +with an expression in her eyes that it was well the little blind girl +could not see. Once two big tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, only +to be hastily brushed away, with a muttered exclamation, "What am I +coming to? Crying at my time of life!" And then she rose hurriedly, and +insisted on helping Celeste with the dishes.</p> + +<p>Celeste was relieved to find her friend more like herself, and in +her relief she began to sing. Maman Remo winced as the first words +of "<i>Noel, Joyeuse Noel</i>," awoke the echoes in the little house, but +before Celeste had reached the last verse, a look of something like +peace had come into the woman's troubled face.</p> + +<p>"Sing something else," she said; "I like to hear you." And Celeste, +delighted at the request, sang song after song for the next half hour, +at the end of which time Maman Remo sent her to bed.</p> + +<p>"You must sleep well so as to be ready for the little American girl's +Christmas Tree," she said, kindly.</p> + +<p>Celeste smiled reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"I should be ready for that even if I sat up all night," she said. +"Oh, Maman dearest, won't it be beautiful? I cannot touch the candles, +certainly, but I shall feel their warmth on my face, and smell the good +smell. There will be chocolates on the tree, I am sure, and perhaps the +little American will give me some to take home, like those she gave +Antoine. And I shall wear my Sunday dress, and my shoes and woolen +stockings. Oh, to-morrow will be a happy day, will it not, Maman?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, certainly; why should it not be, except that my Pierre is +away?"</p> + +<p>There was no trouble or anxiety on Celeste's face when she bade Maman +Remo good-night, and climbed the narrow, rickety stairs to the loft +where the family slept. She was only a little girl, after all, and it +was the night before Christmas. But when she had undressed, and crept +into the hard little bed that she shared with Maman Remo, sleep did not +come as it usually did the moment her head touched the pillow. It was +colder than usual, for one thing, and the blankets were not thick. She +shivered and drew the thin coverings closer, but still sleep did not +come. What was it that was worrying Maman Remo? Was it only anxiety +about Pierre, or was there something else besides? What would become of +them if maman should ever be ill, especially now that Pierre had gone +away? She was glad for her own part that Pierre had gone, for he had +never been kind, but maman loved him. Besides, if Pierre did not come +back, there would be no one to take her to the hotels to sing, and to +play her accompaniments. It was very sad to be blind and poor at the +same time. What a mistake the little American girl had made when she +said she did not think it was so bad to be blind! If she were not blind +she would not need Pierre to take her about. She could go by herself, +and earn money to help maman. But the little American girl was rich, +and rich people never understood such things. She had never been rich, +but once, long ago, when her papa sang in the Paris opera, they had not +been so poor. She could just remember the pretty, comfortable little +home, with her mamma looking so pretty and gay, and Louis coming home +from his lessons at the conservatory. Maman Remo said it was because +her papa had been extravagant that they had lost all their money, +and that her mamma had had to work so hard. It was all very sad and +perplexing. She was sure that if she ever had money she would not be +extravagant. Not that it was likely she ever would have any, unless +Louis came home rich, as the little American had said he might. But +that same little American had told her there were many poor people in +America. Oh, how she did hope Louis was not very poor! He was so big +and strong and handsome—it did not seem possible that he could be so +very poor. If the good God would only let Louis come home, what care he +would take of her and of Maman Remo too, and how happy they would all +be.</p> + +<p>When Celeste's reflections reached this point, her eyelids began +to droop, and she was just dropping off into a doze, when she was +startled wide awake again by the sound of a knock at the house door. +It was such an unusual thing for Maman Remo to have visitors at that +late hour, that Celeste sat up in bed, and listened, wondering who it +could possibly be. She heard maman go to the door, and then followed +the sound of voices, maman's, and that of another woman, which she +recognized at once as Madame Dupont's. Madame Dupont was Antoine's +mother, and a great friend of Maman Remo's. Celeste lay down again, +with a feeling of relief. She did not know what she had feared, but was +glad it was only Madame Dupont. But the knock had thoroughly aroused +her, and she lay listening to the voices in the room beneath. There was +a hole in the floor of the loft, into which she and Maman Remo had to +be careful not to step, so that it was really quite impossible to help +hearing every word that was spoken in the room downstairs.</p> + +<p>Maman Remo had brought her visitor to a seat near the stove, and was +expressing surprise that Madame Dupont should be out so late.</p> + +<p>"I shall be up late to-night on account of the midnight mass," her +friend explained, "and I thought I would just stop to wish you <i>Joyeuse +Noel</i>. I have brought you a bit of meat for to-morrow's dinner. I found +I had more than I needed, and it seemed a pity to waste it."</p> + +<p>Celeste smiled when she heard this, for she was fond of meat. "Oh, the +good Madame Dupont," she murmured, "how generous she is!"</p> + +<p>Maman Remo thanked her friend heartily for the meat, but there was +the same strange, tired sound in her voice that had troubled Celeste, +and Madame Dupont noticed it, too. She noticed something else, which +Celeste could not see, and that was how white and worn her good friend +was looking, but she had heard of Pierre's running away, and thought +she knew the reason.</p> + +<p>"Where is Celeste?" she questioned cheerfully, anxious to keep the +conversation in safe and pleasant channels.</p> + +<p>"In bed and asleep long ago, poor little one."</p> + +<p>"You are not taking her to mass, then? She is so fond of the music, I +thought she would certainly go with you."</p> + +<p>"I am not going myself to-night," said Maman Remo, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"Not going! And it is Christmas Eve."</p> + +<p>"I am very tired. I have had a hard day, and I must rest, the doctor +says."</p> + +<p>"The doctor! You have been to him at last, then?" There was eager +anxiety in Madame Dupont's voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I went this afternoon, before I came home."</p> + +<p>"Well, and what did he tell you?"</p> + +<p>"He says I must go to the hospital for an operation, and the sooner I +go the more chance there is that I shall not die."</p> + +<p>Madame Dupont threw up her hands in dismay, and began pouring forth a +torrent of exclamations of sympathy. In the room above, little Celeste +sat up in bed, trembling from head to foot, and straining her ears +to catch every word. Maman Remo waited until her friend had finished +exclaiming and sympathizing, and then she said in a dull, tired voice—</p> + +<p>"It is a serious operation, and even when it is over I shall have to +stay in the hospital for several weeks. And when I come out I shall not +be strong enough to work as I have been doing for a long time. I told +the doctor I would rather die."</p> + +<p>"No, no," cried Madame Dupont, the tears of sympathy streaming down +her honest face, "you must not say that; it is not right to wish to +die. The good God will surely find some way to help you, and you have +friends, remember, dear Madame Remo, you have friends."</p> + +<p>"Friends are very good," said Maman Remo, gratefully, "but I would +rather die than be a burden to those who have enough for themselves. +There is no one of my own left to care for me. My husband is dead, +Pierre has gone away, and poor little Celeste, what could she do?"</p> + +<p>At the mention of the name Celeste, Maman Remo's voice faltered for the +first time, and her sentence ended in a sob.</p> + +<p>"It is the thought of the child that is the hardest of all to bear," +she said, when she had recovered her composure. "She is such a gentle, +tender little thing, and who will there be to care for her in all the +months that I cannot work? I promised her mother and her brother that I +would always take care of her, and I have grown to love her as my own +child."</p> + +<p>"You will have to send her to the orphan asylum," said Madame Dupont, +who, though she was fond of the little blind girl, did not feel +disposed to offer her a home in her already crowded house. "Truly it is +not a bad place. The three little Roberts were sent there when their +parents died, and they all look well and happy."</p> + +<p>But Maman Remo only shook her head mournfully, and refused to be +comforted.</p> + +<p>"You do not know my little Celeste," she said. "She is not like +ordinary children. Her mother was a lady. You should have seen her, +so pretty and refined, and her father was a great singer. It is not +people like that who are sent to the asylum. The child would pine away +and die."</p> + +<p>"Then what will you do with her?" Madame Dupont inquired practically.</p> + +<p>"I do not know, and that is what is driving me mad. If I could only +find her brother, but alas, I have no idea what has become of him, or +if I could afford to send her to the school for the blind in Paris. She +longs to go there, and she would be happy among kind people; but the +ticket to Paris costs almost a hundred francs, and where could I get +a hundred francs? Besides, there would be no one to take her, and the +child could not take such a journey alone."</p> + +<p>"You might borrow the hundred francs," suggested Madame Dupont, "and +repay it when you are able to work again, and some one going to Paris +might be willing to look after the child on the journey."</p> + +<p>"I do not like to be in debt," said Madame Remo, proudly. "I would +borrow the money for the child's sake, though, if I were sure of being +able to pay it back. But suppose I should never be strong again. The +doctor says I shall be as well as ever in six months if I do as he +wishes, but doctors are sometimes mistaken."</p> + +<p>Madame Dupont was very sorry for her friend, but she could not think +of any other alternative, and spent the rest of her visit in assuring +Maman Remo that she was not half as ill as the doctor had said, and +that as soon as the operation was successfully accomplished, she would +certainly be quite as strong and well as usual. Maman Remo listened, +and was somewhat comforted. It was a great relief to have told her +trouble to a friend, and perhaps, after all, Madame Dupont, who had +brought a large family successfully through numerous illnesses, might +know more about such matters than a young doctor not yet thirty.</p> + +<p>"There is one favor that I must beg of you," she said, with a sudden +recollection, when Madame Dupont at last rose to go. "Do not say +anything to Celeste about this until Christmas is over. Some Americans +at the Hotel de Nice have invited her to a Christmas Tree, and the +child is looking forward to the day with so much pleasure. I cannot +have it spoiled for her."</p> + +<p>And Madame Dupont promised readily.</p> + +<p>When Maman Remo came upstairs, soon after her friend had left, Celeste +was lying very still, and appeared to be fast asleep, but when she had +undressed and crept into bed beside the motionless little figure, the +child stirred, and nestled close to her.</p> + +<p>"Did I wake you, my little one?" Maman Remo asked, anxiously. "I +thought you were sound asleep."</p> + +<p>"No, Maman, I am not asleep. It is so cold, and—and—may I lie in your +arms to-night, just as I used to do when I was little?"</p> + +<p>"Surely you may, my child, and I will keep you warm. Thank God, it will +be warmer again to-morrow; the cold does not last here as in Paris. +Now go to sleep, and when you wake in the morning it will be <i>Joyeuse +Noel</i>."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," said Celeste, softly, "and I must always be happy on +Christmas, on account of my name, Celeste Noel. Good-night, Maman."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, my little one."</p> + +<p>Maman Remo was asleep in a few minutes. She was very tired, and even +anxiety could not keep her awake, but for a long, long time Celeste lay +thinking.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear God," she whispered at last, "please, please do find a way +to help us. I cannot think of one, and Maman Remo cannot either, and +we are both so very unhappy. But maman must not know until Christmas +is over, because it would make her so sad, and she wants me to have +<i>Joyeuse Noel</i>."</p> + +<p>And then the little blind girl fell asleep.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</h2> +</div> + + +<p>"My dear Maisie, you know I am quite willing to consent to anything in +reason. Indeed, I thoroughly approve of the Christmas Tree, and giving +the little blind girl a good time, but when it comes to taking the +child to the opera—I am really afraid I shall have to draw the line +somewhere."</p> + +<p>Mr. Barton set down his coffee cup, and regarded his little daughter +with an expression that was half amused and dismayed. It was Christmas +morning, and the Bartons were at breakfast in their sitting-room.</p> + +<p>"But, Papa," persisted Maisie, her brow beginning to pucker into an +unmistakable frown of perplexity, "you said I was to try to make this +Christmas just as merry for somebody else as my friends made mine +for me last year. Last Christmas was the very nicest I ever had, +because you gave me my pony, and I had so many other lovely surprises. +Surprises are the most interesting things about Christmas, and just +think what a wonderful surprise it would be to Celeste to really go +to the opera. She said she would give anything to hear that wonderful +tenor, and she is sure the opera must be the most beautiful place in +the world. Mamma said she would like to have me hear 'Mignon,' and +there's an afternoon performance of it to-day. It would be so lovely +to take Celeste to the opera on Christmas day, after the tree and +ice cream, and everything. I am sure it would be giving her the very +merriest Christmas a person could possibly have."</p> + +<p>"But, Maisie darling," Mrs. Barton urged gently, "the poor little girl +probably has no proper dress to wear to the opera. It might make her +uncomfortable to feel that she was dressed differently from every one +else."</p> + +<p>"She wouldn't know," said Maisie. "She couldn't see how the other +people were dressed, and of course nobody would tell her. Besides, +you always say it doesn't matter what people wear so long as they are +ladies and gentlemen at heart. I know Celeste is a lady at heart, even +if she does sing in the street, and go around in bare feet."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Barton looked a little troubled, but Auntie Belle burst into a +hearty laugh.</p> + +<p>"Seems to me, Alice," she said, "you had better give in. I believe +Maisie is right when she says the poor child is a lady at heart. Just +wait till you see her yourselves, and hear her sing. I don't know when +I have ever been as much interested in any one as I was in that little +blind girl. I'll tell you how we might arrange the matter. I know you +two want to go motoring this afternoon, so suppose you let me take the +kiddies to the opera. Françoise could go with us if you consider me too +young to act as a proper chaperone."</p> + +<p>Mr. Barton looked at his pretty sister and laughed.</p> + +<p>"I believe you are as crazy about the child as Maisie herself," he +said. "You are very kind to offer your services as chaperone, my dear, +but I think if any one is to go to the opera this afternoon, we had +better all go together. I rather like the idea of families keeping +together on Christmas. 'Mignon' is a charming little opera, and I dare +say we should all enjoy it. Besides, I confess I have considerable +curiosity to hear this young tenor that every one is talking about. I +advised Maisie to try to give somebody a merry Christmas, and now that +she has set her heart on doing it, I suppose I ought to be willing to +help her."</p> + +<p>Maisie clapped her hands, and springing from her seat, ran round the +breakfast table, to give her father a rapturous hug.</p> + +<p>"I do believe this is going to be a beautiful Christmas, after all," +she declared, "even if it isn't a bit like the ones at home." And +she glanced rather disgustedly at the great bowl of freshly gathered +roses the waiter had just brought in. "Now do let's hurry and finish +breakfast, so we can put the last things on the tree."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Barton still looked doubtful, but her husband and sister-in-law +had evidently made up their minds, and as soon as the family rose from +the table, Mr. Barton went away to see about securing seats for the +opera.</p> + +<p>It was a radiant morning. All the cold sharp wind of the previous night +had disappeared as if by magic, and the air was as soft and balmy as +June. But Maisie had little time to think of the weather that morning. +Besides the opening and admiring of all her own presents, of which +there were a goodly number, and the examining those of her family as +well, there were the last things to be tied on the tree.</p> + +<p>"It really does look very pretty," she remarked in a tone of +satisfaction, pausing to take a final survey of her work, at a few +minutes before eleven o'clock. "It looks a little queer without any +candles, but it isn't bad. I wish we could have had a bigger tree, but +then it couldn't have stood on the table, and Celeste couldn't have +felt of it all so easily."</p> + +<p>The tree—which was really very prettily decorated, in spite of the +lack of the usual candles—had been placed on the sitting-room table, +where the family took their meals.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what she'll say when she feels the statue," said Maisie, +skipping first on one foot and then on the other in her excitement. +"Oh, I do wish she'd hurry; it's so hard to wait."</p> + +<p>But Maisie did not have long to wait, for the clock had only just +finished striking eleven, when there was a tap at the door, and Celeste +appeared, led by a friendly waiter.</p> + +<p>The little blind girl was looking rather pale, and was also painfully +shy, this being the very first time within her remembrance, that she +had ever been invited to a party. But no one could be shy for long in +the presence of friendly Maisie, who flew to greet her visitor with as +much warmth as if they had been friends all their lives.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad you are in time," she exclaimed joyfully. "I was afraid +you might be late, and we've got such a lot of surprises for you. Did +Maman Remo bring you? Why didn't she come up, too?"</p> + +<p>"She brought me, but she is waiting downstairs with Madame Strobel," +Celeste explained shyly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she needn't wait, unless she wants to spend the day with Madame +Strobel, for you are going to stay with us a long time, and Françoise +will take you home. You would like to stay all day, wouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very much," said the little blind girl, whose shyness was rapidly +melting away beneath the warmth of her new friend's greeting.</p> + +<p>"That's all right then. Jean, please tell Madame Remo that she needn't +wait, and that we will send Celeste home this evening."</p> + +<p>The waiter departed smiling, for he, too, knew the story of little +Celeste Noel, and was glad the child was going to have a holiday.</p> + +<p>"These are my father and mother," Maisie went on, leading her visitor +forward. "They are very glad to meet you, because they have heard a +good deal about you from Auntie Belle and me. Auntie Belle will be here +in a minute; she has just gone to speak to somebody at the telephone."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Barton received the little blind girl very kindly, and +Mrs. Barton noticed with secret satisfaction, that, though Celeste's +Sunday costume could scarcely have been called stylish, it was very +neat, and the child's face and hands fairly shone from a vigorous +application of soap and water.</p> + +<p>"Now take off your things," Maisie commanded, when the introductions +were over, "and then you must feel everything on the Christmas tree."</p> + +<p>"I can smell it already," said Celeste, sniffing the air delightedly, +"but may I really touch it? Won't I break something, or burn myself +with the candles?"</p> + +<p>"There aren't any candles," laughed Maisie, "and you can touch every +single thing on it, for they are all yours."</p> + +<p>The next half hour seemed to the little blind girl more like a bit out +of a fairy tale than anything she had ever experienced before in her +life. Mrs. Barton and Auntie Belle both had tears in their eyes, as +they watched her delight over every new object that the eager little +fingers touched, and even Mr. Barton found it necessary to blow his +nose several times before he finally left the room rather hurriedly. +When Celeste touched the statue, which Maisie had hung in the most +prominent position on the tree, she started back with a little cry of +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"It is the blessed Mother with the little Jesus in her arms!" she +exclaimed. "Oh, may I really take it in my hands again?"</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="" id="frontis"> + <div class="caption"> + <p><span class="smcap">"Oh, may I really take it?"</span></p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>"Of course you may," cried Maisie, who was almost beside herself with +delight and excitement. "Didn't I tell you everything on the tree was +yours? You can take the statue home with you, and keep it forever."</p> + +<p>That was almost too much for the little blind girl, and to Maisie's +horror, she suddenly burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't cry, please don't," cried Maisie, her brown eyes big with +dismay. "You'll spoil everything if you do, and we are having such a +good time."</p> + +<p>Thus urged, Celeste dried her tears, and smiled instead, but when, a +few moments later, Maisie was leading her round the table to examine +new wonders, she suddenly slipped an arm about her new friend's neck +and kissed her.</p> + +<p>"I think you must be something like the angels in Heaven," she said, +simply, at which astounding compliment Maisie felt herself blushing +scarlet. But when all the excitement of the tree was over, and Maisie +had taken her visitor to her own room, while Mrs. Barton and Auntie +Belle went away to dress for the afternoon, Celeste grew suddenly very +quiet. She still clasped the little statue to her heart, as if fearful +that it might melt away or vanish if she put it down, but all the +joy and brightness slowly faded out of her face, and a sad, anxious +expression took its place.</p> + +<p>Maisie watched her in growing anxiety, fearing she must be homesick.</p> + +<p>"The surprises aren't nearly over yet," she explained, when she had +finished showing Celeste her own presents, in which the little blind +girl had not appeared quite as much interested as she had expected. +"You haven't the least idea what is going to happen after luncheon."</p> + +<p>"I think perhaps I should go home soon," Celeste said, anxiously. +"Maman Remo is all alone."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you can't go home till after the—I mean till quite late," +protested Maisie, feeling more certain than ever that her guest was +suffering from homesickness. "I am sure Maman Remo won't mind your +staying. She will love hearing all about everything afterwards. Mamma +always loves hearing about my good times when I come home."</p> + +<p>But Celeste still looked sad and unconvinced.</p> + +<p>"Your maman is different," she said. "She is a rich lady, and I don't +suppose rich ladies are ever lonely and unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes they are," said Maisie, with conviction. "My grandma was very +unhappy for a long time after my grandpa died. I used to have to go and +see her almost every day, and bring her flowers, and she stayed in her +room with the shades all down, and cried. It was very uncomfortable +going to see her while she was like that, but mamma said I had to do +it. We were all so glad when she began to be cheerful again."</p> + +<p>"Maman Remo is never like that," said Celeste. "She is always cheerful, +and she would not have time to stay in her room and cry, but when she +is anxious and unhappy I can always hear it in her voice."</p> + +<p>"And is she anxious and unhappy now?" questioned Maisie.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, very; I do not think she was ever quite so anxious before, +even after Papa Remo was killed. She does not think I know, but I do."</p> + +<p>"Is it about Pierre—hasn't he come home yet?"</p> + +<p>"It is a little about that, but there is something else +besides—something much worse. We have heard from Pierre, and he is +well. A letter came to Maman Remo this morning, telling about him. It +was from a man she knows in St. Raphael. Pierre walked all the way to +St. Raphael, and this man—who is a sailor—met him in the street, and +took him to his house. Pierre was very hungry, and maman's friend was +sorry for him, and when Pierre had told how he had run away, and wanted +to go to sea, he promised to help him find a place on a ship. He knows +the captain of a ship that sails for Algiers this week, and he thinks +he can get Pierre a place on board as cabin-boy. He wrote maman all +about it, and he says he thinks letting Pierre go to sea will make a +man of him. Maman cannot read herself, but Antoine Dupont came in to +wish us <i>Joyeuse Noel</i>, and he read the letter to her."</p> + +<p>"Well, if she knows Pierre is all right, I don't see why she should be +so unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but I told you there was something much worse than about Pierre. +I only heard it last night, and maman must not know that I have found +out until to-morrow, because she wants me to have <i>Joyeuse Noel</i>, and +she would be still more sad if she knew that I was unhappy too."</p> + +<p>Celeste's lip quivered, and the tears started to her eyes, but she +winked them back resolutely, remembering what Maisie had said about +spoiling everything if she cried. The two children were sitting on +the sofa together, and Celeste's lap was filled with the trinkets her +friend had been showing her. With a sudden, kindly impulse, Maisie +slipped an arm round her little visitor's waist.</p> + +<p>"Would you mind telling me about it?" she said, in an unusually gentle +voice. "Perhaps we may be able to help you."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid you could not help us," said Celeste, sadly, "but you are +very kind, and I don't mind telling you. I heard Maman Remo talking to +Madame Dupont last night after I was in bed. They were downstairs, but +I could hear every word through the hole in the floor. Maman went to +see the doctor yesterday, and he says she must go to the hospital and +have an operation, and when she comes out again she will not be strong +enough to work for a long time."</p> + +<p>"One of my aunts had an operation," said Maisie, deeply interested. +"She was very ill, but she is all right again now, and I heard her tell +mamma she hadn't felt so strong in years."</p> + +<p>"The doctor says maman will be strong again in six months if she does +what he tells her to, but how can she live if she cannot work for six +months?"</p> + +<p>"Won't her relations help her? Everybody was very good to Aunt Nelly +when she had her operation, but she didn't need any money, because her +husband—my Uncle George—has a great deal."</p> + +<p>"Poor maman has no relations except Pierre, and he has gone away. +Madame Dupont said her friends would help her, but maman is very proud, +she does not like to take money from people. If I could only work for +her, but there is nothing I can do. I cannot even sing in the streets +any more now that Pierre is not here, and maman is so unhappy because +she is afraid she will have to send me to the orphan asylum."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that would be dreadful!" exclaimed Maisie, who had once been taken +to a fair at an orphan asylum at home, and remembered thinking it a +very dismal place, where all the little girls dressed just alike in +very ugly clothes. "Why can't she send you to that school in Paris +that you were telling us about?"</p> + +<p>"She would send me there if she could, but the journey costs so much, +and there would be no one to take me so far."</p> + +<p>This was a new idea, and for a moment Maisie was silent, being really +unable to think of any suggestion to make. But it was only for a +moment; then her usual hopefulness asserted itself once more.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you," she said, reassuringly. +"Don't you remember what I told you the other day about not worrying +over things? Just as likely as not something nice will happen. Perhaps +Maman Remo won't have to go to the hospital, after all, or if she does, +perhaps somebody will just happen to be going to Paris, and will offer +to take you and buy your ticket. I don't believe it costs such a great +deal. We came from Paris on the night train, and slept in such funny +little staterooms, smaller than the ones on the steamers. Papa didn't +say anything about it's being so very expensive. You know you thought +the little statue was very expensive, but it really wasn't."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but you are so rich," said Celeste, with a sigh; "nothing seems +expensive to you."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't worry, anyway, at least not till Christmas is over. I do +want you to have a good time all day, and people can't have good times +when they are worrying."</p> + +<p>Celeste smiled faintly. She was really only two years older than +Maisie, but to her the little American seemed very young indeed.</p> + +<p>"I will try not to worry," she said, "and indeed you have given me a +beautiful Christmas." And she laid her hand lovingly upon the little +statue, which was lying beside her on the sofa.</p> + +<p>"That's right," said Maisie, much relieved. "Now, here comes Françoise +to get me ready for luncheon, and after luncheon we are going—you will +never guess where, and I shall not tell you, because I want it to be +the greatest surprise of all."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Barton and Auntie Belle watched the little girl with a +good deal of interest during luncheon.</p> + +<p>Maman Remo was a very ignorant woman, who could neither read nor +write, but she had once lived as housemaid in a French family, and she +had never forgotten the things she had seen there. Celeste's mother +had been a lady, and it was only right and proper that her little +daughter should be taught to do things as ladies did them. Celeste's +table manners were as neat and dainty as those of Maisie herself, and +although rather shy and silent in the presence of these strange, grand +people, she was so sweet and gentle that before the meal was over, +she had won the hearty liking of the whole family. When the ice cream +appeared, and Celeste was helped to a bountiful supply, Maisie watched +her with deep interest.</p> + +<p>"Do you like it?" she demanded, as Celeste put the first spoonful into +her mouth, and her friend answered heartily, even shyness forgotten for +the moment—</p> + +<p>"Oh, but it is delicious!"</p> + +<p>"I knew she wouldn't say that horrid thing about sausages and olives," +Maisie remarked triumphantly in English, to her aunt, at which remark +everybody laughed, and Celeste, who did not understand English, +blushed, and hoped she hadn't said anything wrong.</p> + +<p>It was necessary to hurry a little, as the afternoon performance at +the opera began at two o'clock, and Celeste had only just swallowed +her last spoonful of ice cream when they all rose from the table, and +Maisie took her away to put on her hat. Celeste wondered very much +as to where they could be going, but Maisie had said it was to be a +surprise, and she refrained from asking any questions. But when they +had all left the hotel, and she had been helped into Mr. Barton's big +limousine motor car, her curiosity became too great to be borne any +longer.</p> + +<p>"Are we going for a ride in this?" she whispered to Auntie Belle, +who sat next to her. She somehow felt more at ease with Maisie's +pleasant-voiced young aunt than with the other grown-ups. Auntie Belle +laughed.</p> + +<p>"You will know in a few moments where we are going," she said, and just +then the car started with a jerk, and Celeste, who had never been in a +motor car before in her life, could do nothing but hold on to the side +with all her might, and gasp for breath.</p> + +<p>"Don't you like it?" laughed Maisie. "Oh, you will get used to it in a +minute, and then you will think it great fun! I remember that I was a +little frightened at first."</p> + +<p>But before Celeste had had time to "get used to it," the car had +stopped again, and they were all getting out. There seemed to be a +great crowd of people, through which she was safely piloted, and then +she was in a seat, with Auntie Belle on one side of her and Maisie on +the other.</p> + +<p>"Now guess where we are," cried Maisie, delightedly; "can't you really +guess?"</p> + +<p>But Celeste was too much puzzled and bewildered to form any clear ideas +about anything.</p> + +<p>"We talked about this place the other day," Maisie went on, too much +excited to waste any more time in guessing. "You said Madame Dupont +came here sometimes, but Maman Remo couldn't afford it. Your brother, +Louis, liked it better than any other place in the world, and your +father—"</p> + +<p>"The opera!" gasped Celeste, with a sudden recollection. "Oh, +mademoiselle, is it really the opera?"</p> + +<p>"Of course it is," said Maisie, joyously. "Aren't you glad?" But to her +surprise, Celeste did not answer. She had grown rather pale, and there +were actually tears in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Don't you like it, dear?" Auntie Belle asked, giving the little hand +beside her an encouraging pat.</p> + +<p>"Like it! Oh, but it is too wonderful! I never believed that I should +truly go to the opera."</p> + +<p>"Well, you are here, you see," said Maisie, much relieved by this +expression of feeling. She was beginning to fear her friend was not +as much pleased as she had expected her to be. "It's going to be a +beautiful opera, too. It's called 'Mignon,' and papa says the music is +lovely, and the best of all is, that tenor you wanted to hear so much +is going to sing."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Celeste, and that was all, but her radiant face was more +expressive than any words could have been.</p> + +<p>"Auntie Belle heard him the other night," Maisie chattered on. "Some +friends invited her, and she says he really has got a beautiful voice. +He's awfully handsome, too. Auntie Belle bought his photograph. O dear, +there's the orchestra beginning, and we can't talk any more!"</p> + +<p>If any one had doubted the fact that the little blind girl loved music +with her whole soul, it would have required only one glance at the +child's radiant face during the overture, to banish all such doubts +at once, and forever. The Bartons all watched her with keen interest, +as she sat leaning forward in her seat, with hands clasped, and lips +apart, drinking in the music as if it were her very life. Maisie gazed +at her new friend with eyes round with astonishment. Was it possible +that any human being could really love music like that? She thought +of how often she had grumbled at being obliged to go to concerts with +her mother, and what a bore she had found them. If only she and Celeste +could have changed places on those occasions. Auntie Belle, who loved +music almost as much as Celeste did, felt suddenly drawn to the little +stranger by a bond of sympathy. Mrs. Barton remembered her doubts of +the morning, and her kind heart smote her for having hesitated even for +a moment to give the child such a pleasure.</p> + +<p>When the curtain rose upon the gay scene of gypsies and villagers, +Maisie's attention wandered a little from Celeste's face to the stage +and for a few moments she almost forgot her friend in her interest in +the scene before her. Suddenly there was a slight rustle among the +audience as the sound of a rich, clear tenor voice was heard drawing +nearer; and as Wilhelm-Meister stepped out upon the stage, almost every +head was craned forward to catch the first glimpse of the popular young +singer.</p> + +<p>"He looks just like his picture, doesn't he?" Maisie whispered to her +aunt. "I think he's the handsomest—"</p> + +<p>Maisie paused abruptly, attracted by a slight sound from Celeste, and +turning to see what the matter was, she was rendered fairly speechless +with astonishment by the look on the little blind girl's face. Auntie +Belle also heard the half-suppressed cry, and she, too, turned to look +at Celeste.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, dear?" she whispered anxiously, bending over the +child. "Don't you feel well?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, thank you, but—but—pardon, Mademoiselle, but might I ask +you to tell me the gentleman's name?"</p> + +<p>"The gentleman," repeated Auntie Belle, looking puzzled; "what +gentleman? Oh, you mean Wilhelm-Meister. His name is Claude Lorraine. +Why, my poor child, what is it? You must be ill. You had better let my +brother take you out."</p> + +<p>"No, no," gasped Celeste, who was trembling from head to foot, and +whose face had grown ghastly white; "I do not want to go out. I want to +stay and hear him sing. Oh, mademoiselle, the good God has been very +kind to us!"</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle stared at the child in amazement; she had never been so +puzzled in her life, but into Maisie's eyes there flashed a sudden +light, and forgetting for the moment where she was, and all her +mother's cautions about not talking at the opera, she almost sprang +out of her seat, crying excitedly, "It's Louis, I know it is!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Celeste, tell me, is it really Louis?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Celeste, in a breathless whisper. "I knew his voice the +moment I heard it, and Claude Lorraine was my papa's stage name; Louis +must have taken it too. Oh, Mademoiselle Maisie, Mademoiselle Maisie!" +and the poor little blind girl burst into tears.</p> + +<p>But by this time the little excitement was beginning to be noticed +by the audience, and indignant hisses were heard on all sides. Mr. +and Mrs. Barton turned to discover what had caused the disturbance, +and were not reassured by the sight of Celeste in tears, Auntie Belle +looking the picture of dismay, and Maisie jumping up and down in her +seat, and acting very much as though she had lost her senses. And +during all the commotion the clear tenor voice sang on, its owner +quite unconscious of the fact that his presence had caused any unusual +excitement.</p> + +<p>Strange to say, it was Celeste herself who was the first to recover. +She checked her sobs, with a mighty effort, and slipped one little +trembling hand into Auntie Belle's, and the other into Maisie's.</p> + +<p>"We must be very quiet," she whispered, "or the people will be angry. +Let us listen. I want to hear every note Louis sings."</p> + +<p>"What in the world is the matter?" Mr. Barton whispered to his sister, +and Auntie Belle replied that she did not know but believed the tenor +must be a friend or relative of Celeste's, and that she had recognized +him by his voice.</p> + +<p>During the rest of that act not one of the party had eyes or thoughts +to spare for anything that was going on the stage. The music and +singing were of the best, and the acting excellent, but the Bartons +looked only at Celeste. Maisie was the only one who knew what had +really happened, and she had been so frightened by those ominous +hisses, that she did not dare open her lips again, even to whisper +the wonderful news to Auntie Belle. But it was easy to see that the +little blind girl was very much excited, and that something unusual had +occurred. After the first few moments the child had ceased to tremble, +and by degrees a little color began to creep back into her face. She +sat, leaning forward in her seat, as if afraid to miss a single note, +and gradually her expression settled into a look of such radiant +happiness, that her kind new friends could do nothing but gaze at her, +in ever increasing astonishment.</p> + +<p>At last the curtain fell upon the first act, amid a thunder of +applause, and instantly Maisie's tongue was loosed.</p> + +<p>"It's her brother!" she cried, jumping out of her seat in her +excitement. "She hasn't seen him in four whole years. He went away to +seek his fortune, and she hadn't any idea what had become of him. She +was so afraid he might be poor, but I told her I was sure he would come +back rich, the way people always do in stories. Oh, isn't it the most +wonderful, interesting thing you ever heard of in all your lives? Don't +you want to go right off this minute and see him, Celeste?"</p> + +<p>But Celeste shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I would rather wait till the opera is over," she said. "If he saw me +before he might not be able to sing so well. I want to hear him sing +the whole opera before he knows I am here. After that if your papa will +be so kind—"</p> + +<p>But when Mr. Barton had at last been made to understand the wonderful +story, he did not look as much impressed by Celeste's good fortune as +Maisie and Auntie Belle expected he would.</p> + +<p>"You had better let me have a talk with the fellow first," he said in +English to Auntie Belle. "He has been singing here in Nice for weeks. +If he had really been anxious to find his little sister, it seems +incredible that he should not have found her before. I haven't as much +faith in these long-lost brothers as some of you have, and I don't want +that poor child's innocent little heart broken if I can help it." And +Mr. Barton glanced pityingly at Celeste's radiant face.</p> + +<p>Fortunately for Celeste, she could not understand one word of English, +and so was spared all the discussion which followed. She continued to +smile the smile of unutterable rapture, and sometimes her lips moved as +if she were saying her prayers. Auntie Belle and Maisie both felt lumps +in their throats whenever they looked at her, and Mrs. Barton was seen +to wipe her eyes more than once.</p> + +<p>"I feel just as if I were in heaven," Celeste whispered to Maisie, when +the curtain had risen on the second act, and the beautiful tenor voice +was heard again. Maisie dared not answer, for fear of those dreadful +hisses, but she slipped an arm around her friend, and hugged her, in a +burst of sympathy that said more than any words could have done.</p> + +<p>"Now, Celeste," said Mr. Barton in his kind, sensible voice, when the +opera was over, and they were making their way out through the crowd, +"we are going to take you back to the hotel. I have sent a line to your +brother, asking him to meet me there as soon as possible on a matter +of importance. It will be much pleasanter for you both to meet at the +hotel than in all this crowd and confusion."</p> + +<p>Celeste—who was trembling again so that she could scarcely stand—made +no objection, and allowed herself to be helped into the motor car, +without uttering a word. She spoke only once on the way home, and then +it was to ask in a timid voice, how soon Mr. Barton thought Louis would +come to the hotel, to which he replied that he was sure her brother +would come as soon as he could get away from the opera house.</p> + +<p>"Curiosity will bring him if nothing else does," he added in English, +but that Celeste did not understand.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the hotel, Maisie was told to take Celeste to her room, and +keep her there till she was sent for, and the elders waited in the +sitting-room, in a state of breathless anticipation.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if I were acting a part in a play," Auntie Belle said, with +a little hysterical giggle. "Oh, Harry, if that poor child is doomed to +a disappointment, I really don't know what I shall do! Did you ever +see such a look of rapture on any human face? But it is all right, I +know it is. No man with a voice like that could be anything but good."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle paused abruptly, for at that moment there was a knock at +the door. The tenor had evidently been curious to learn the meaning +of Mr. Barton's mysterious summons, for he had followed them almost +immediately.</p> + +<p>He was a tall, handsome young fellow, with a frank, boyish face, and as +he came forward into the room, Mrs. Barton and Auntie Belle felt their +hopes rise instinctively.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Lorraine, I believe," said Mr. Barton, courteously, as he +shook hands with the young man. "I trust you will pardon my sending for +you so unceremoniously. Allow me to present my wife and sister. We have +all been to the opera this afternoon, and have been charmed by your +singing."</p> + +<p>The tenor bowed deeply to the two ladies, and blushed boyishly at the +compliment. Indeed, he looked so young, and so honest and pleasant +as well, that Mr. Barton found himself addressing him in a much more +friendly tone than he would have believed possible five minutes +earlier.</p> + +<p>"I have sent for you to talk over a matter which interests us all +very much," he said, when they were seated, and Monsieur Lorraine had +somewhat recovered from his first embarrassment. "I said before that we +have been charmed with your singing. May I ask how long you have been +on the stage?"</p> + +<p>"I made my <i>début</i> in Paris last autumn," said the young man, in a +pleasant, refined voice, that somehow reminded them all of Celeste's.</p> + +<p>"Indeed? Then I presume you have never been to America."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," said the tenor, smiling, "I have spent over two +years in America. Indeed, it is to the kindness of an American +gentleman that I owe my present good fortune. I was singing at a +vaudeville theatre in Chicago about three years ago, and was about +as poor and discouraged as one could well be, when this gentleman—a +Mr. Richardson of New York, who had happened to drop into the place, +out of mere curiosity—became interested in my voice. He spoke to me +after the performance, gave me his card, and advised my coming to +New York and studying at the conservatory there. I followed his kind +advice, he became my friend and benefactor, and it is to him that I +owe everything. I have good reason to love America and the American +people."</p> + +<p>The young man spoke earnestly, and Mr. Barton felt his good opinion +rising.</p> + +<p>"You are a Frenchman, I know that by your accent," he said. "Is your +home in this part of the country?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur. I have never been in Nice before. My parents lived in +Paris, and my father sang at the Opera Comique for several years before +his death."</p> + +<p>"Are your parents both dead?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"You are young to be alone in the world—have you no near relatives?"</p> + +<p>A shadow crossed the young man's face. Auntie Belle's heart was beating +so fast that she was almost afraid the tenor would hear it.</p> + +<p>"I have one little sister," he said sadly. "She is still but a child, +many years younger than I."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I see, and is this little sister with you now?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, no, monsieur, but I would gladly give all I have in the world to +find her."</p> + +<p>Auntie Belle could not repress a little chuckle of delight, and she +gave her brother a triumphant glance, but Mr. Barton went quietly on +with his questioning.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that? Surely you must know where your little +sister is."</p> + +<p>"Ah, monsieur, it is a long story, and a very sad one. When our parents +died five years ago, we were very poor indeed. My father had been ill +a long time, and had left us nothing. I had my voice, and—pardon me, +monsieur, if what I say sounds conceited—I knew I could support myself +by singing if I could only get the chance. But there was my little +blind sister. She has been blind from birth, monsieur, and I could not +bear to leave her alone among strangers. Yet I could not take her with +me, perhaps to starve. We had been lodging with some kind people at the +time of our mother's death, and the woman had taken a great fancy to +little Celeste. She told me that if I would leave the child with her, +she would care for her, and be a mother to her until my return. She +was a very ignorant woman, who could neither read nor write, but her +husband was better educated, and they were both good, religious people. +They kept a little shop in Paris, and were comfortably off. It was very +hard to part from little Celeste, for we loved each other tenderly, and +my mother had left her in my care. Still, it seemed the only thing to +do, and I knew I was leaving her in good hands.</p> + +<p>"Things went very badly with me for the first year, and I was too +discouraged to write the husband of my ill luck, but as soon as I +began to earn a little money, I wrote at once, sending a small sum +towards my sister's support. I never received any answer, and although +I wrote again and again, not a word ever reached me in reply. As soon +as I came back to Paris this year, I went to the address where I had +left my little sister, but found that the family had moved away three +years ago, and no one in the neighborhood knew where they had gone. The +man, it seems, was run over and killed by a motor car, and his wife +left Paris soon afterward, taking the child with her. As she could not +write, she had not communicated with any of her friends, and not one +among them all could give me her address.</p> + +<p>"Since then I have done everything in my power to trace my little +sister, but so far without success. I feel sometimes as if I should go +mad with anxiety about the child, and the hardest of all is that now +when at last I am in a position to support her, and bring her up as my +mother would have wished, I cannot even find out what has become of +her. But pardon me, monsieur, for talking so much of my own affairs, in +which you cannot possibly be interested."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," said Mr. Barton, kindly, "I am very much interested +indeed. To tell the truth, it was for the purpose of hearing just this +very story that I sent for you this afternoon. I have an idea that I +may be able to put you in the way of getting some information about +your little blind sister."</p> + +<p>"You, monsieur!" The young man had sprung out of his chair, and seized +Mr. Barton's hand before that gentleman had finished his sentence. "Oh, +monsieur, if this is true—if you can indeed assist me in my search for +poor little Celeste—I shall be grateful to you all my life."</p> + +<p>The tenor's honest, boyish face was full of feeling, and his voice +trembled. Auntie Belle—who was romantic—thought him the most +interesting person she had ever seen. Mr. Barton freed his hand gently +from the young man's eager clasp, and went to the door.</p> + +<p>"Maisie," he called cheerfully, "you may come now, and bring your +little friend with you."</p> + +<p>There was a hurrying of little feet, and Maisie rushed into the room, +fairly dragging the trembling Celeste after her.</p> + +<p>"Celeste, my little Celeste!"</p> + +<p>With one bound, the tenor was across the room, and had caught the +little blind girl in his arms.</p> + +<p>"And to think," sobbed Celeste, with her arms round her brother's neck, +"that the good God sent you back to us on Christmas day! Maman Remo +says I must always be happy on Christmas, because of my name.</p> + +<p>"I knew your voice the moment I heard it, but I did not want you to +see me till the opera was over. Oh, Louis, <i>cherie</i>, you sing like an +angel!"</p> + +<p>Maman Remo was sitting alone in her little house, waiting for Celeste +to come home. It had been dark for more than an hour, and she had +lighted the lamp, and built up a good fire in the stove, but she would +not make any preparations for supper until Celeste should come in.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the little one will not be hungry," she said to herself. +"Those Americans are always feasting on holidays. Poor child, I hope +she has had a happy day. To-morrow she must know, for I dare not put +it off any longer. The doctor said I must go as soon as possible. She +will take it hard, poor child, but surely they will be kind to her at +the asylum, and if I am ever well and strong again, she can come back +to me, and things will be as they have been."</p> + +<p>Maman Remo heaved a deep sigh, and put up her hand to brush away a +tear. The day had been very long and lonely.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she turned her head and listened. Footsteps were approaching, +and voices. Yes, that was Celeste's voice, and how happy it sounded. +Surely the child had had <i>Joyeuse Noel</i>. The footsteps drew nearer, +some one opened the door, and two people came in.</p> + +<p>Maman Remo rose and courtesied. She did not recognize the tall young +gentleman, who was leading Celeste by the hand, but supposed him to be +one of the American family who had been so kind to the child all day.</p> + +<p>"Maman Remo, don't you know me?"</p> + +<p>"Louis, Louis Noel!" Maman Remo sank back into her chair, and turned so +white that for a moment Louis feared she was going to faint. "Oh, my +God, is it really Louis Noel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, Maman, it is really Louis, our own Louis, come back to us +safe and well," cried Celeste, flinging herself upon Maman Remo in a +perfect ecstasy of delight. "Oh, isn't it beautiful and wonderful that +he should have come on Christmas day? And, oh, Maman <i>cherie</i>, he is +not poor; he is rich, as Mademoiselle Maisie said he would be. I have +heard him sing at the opera, and truly he has the voice of an angel."</p> + +<p>Maman Remo's lips moved, but no sound came from them. Louis Noel came +quickly forward, and took the two trembling hands in his. His own eyes +were full of tears.</p> + +<p>"Maman Remo," he said, in a low, unsteady voice, "there are no words in +which to thank you. Celeste has told me everything, and I don't know +what to say. It is true, as the little one says, I am not poor. I am +doing good work with my voice, and have an engagement to sing at the +opera in New York next season. All I ask is that you will let me take +care of you and Celeste; not in payment for your care of the child, for +that is something that can never be repaid in this world, but because I +love and honor you beyond all other women except my mother." And Louis +Noel bent and kissed Maman Remo very tenderly.</p> + +<p>"Well, Maisie, and what sort of a Christmas has it been?" Mr. Barton +asked, smiling, as his little daughter was bidding him good-night.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Papa," cried Maisie, with sparkling eyes, "it has been the very +loveliest Christmas I have ever had. I do believe it's more interesting +to give other people a good time than to have it one's self. But +there's one funny thing about it."</p> + +<p>"And what is that?" her father asked, stooping to kiss the happy, eager +little face.</p> + +<p>"Why," said Maisie, laughing, "it's a very queer thing, but I never had +quite such a Merry Christmas before, even at home, with the Christmas +trees, and the parties, and all the presents. Oh, Papa dear, when I +think of that sweet Celeste's face when she went away with her brother, +and remember that if it hadn't been for your wanting me to try that +experiment, Louis might have gone away again without ever knowing she +was here, I feel so happy that I think I should like to hug everybody +in the world!"</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="JILL_AND_LILL">JILL AND LILL</h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_Ia">CHAPTER I</h2> +</div> + + +<p>There were not many people in the great gallery that rainy December +afternoon. It was too early in the season for the crowd of English +and American tourists which in the late winter and early spring fill +Florence to overflowing, and the few people who sauntered about looking +at the pictures were for the most part native Florentines out for an +afternoon holiday. The men all wore their overcoats, and the women +kept their furs—if they were fortunate enough to possess any—wrapped +closely about them, but it was bitterly cold in the gallery, which is +only warmed by the bright Italian sun, and on cold, rainy days often +feels like a great stone vault.</p> + +<p>The twins were not so fortunate as to have any furs; neither were their +winter jackets as warm as they might have been if clothes had not been +so expensive, but they were accustomed to the cold galleries, and +although they both shivered more than once, it did not occur to either +of them to mention the fact. The twins were only eleven, but they knew +the great picture galleries of Florence much better than many older +people. Ever since they could remember, their mother had taken them +with her to the galleries, and they had wandered about looking at the +wonderful pictures, or played "sitting still games" in a corner, always +talking softly for fear of disturbing people who came to look, or, +like their mother, to copy the great masterpieces of the world. They +were very poor, for Mummy's pictures sold for a mere trifle at the +print shops, and they lived in three little rooms at the top of an old +building, the windows of which looked out upon the Duomo; the great +cathedral, which has been the pride of Florence for centuries. Once, +long ago, when their father was alive, they had lived in Rome, and +their father had painted pictures which sold for much more money than +poor little Mummy's pictures did; but after her husband's death Mummy +had brought the children to Florence, because living there was cheaper +than in Rome. The twins themselves did not particularly mind being +poor, and if it had not been for Mummy's anxious face, and the fears +they sometimes heard her express about the future, they would have been +quite happy and contented. As for education, clothes, and all those +other tiresome things, which seemed to trouble Mummy so much, they were +matters of the most supreme indifference to the twins. They were quite +happy in their three little rooms, where Mummy did the cooking on a +tiny stove, and which were so cold in winter, that they often went to +bed right after supper, for the purpose of keeping warm, and so hot on +summer nights that they sometimes carried their beds out on the roof, +in the faint hope of catching a little breeze from the river half a +mile away.</p> + +<p>Twins are supposed to resemble each other so closely that sometimes +their own families cannot tell them apart, but this was not the case +with Jill and Lill, for Jill was fully half a head taller than Lill, +and looked at least two years older. Lill was a small, fair child, with +a delicate, refined little face, and big innocent eyes, that had an +odd appealing look in them. She had been a delicate baby, and even now +was far from strong, while Jill had never had an ailment in her life, +and was as plump and rosy as if she had been fed on new-laid eggs and +country cream ever since she was born. They had never been separated +for a day in their lives, and if Jill's love for her twin sister had a +touch of motherliness in it, and Lill looked up to Jill with a kind of +adoring admiration, their affection was none the less strong for that.</p> + +<p>When the twins were born, their father, who was an artist, and somewhat +romantic, had declared their names must sound alike.</p> + +<p>"One is to be Lilian for your mother," he said, "but it would never do +to call the other Jane, for my little sister who died. Who ever heard +of twins being Lilian and Jane? They wouldn't harmonize at all."</p> + +<p>"We might call little Janie, Jill," suggested Mummy, who had an +imagination. "I remember once reading a book called 'Jack and Jill,' +and Jill's real name was Jane."</p> + +<p>"That will do," said Mr. Dinsmore, laughing. "Jill and Lill, nothing +could be better."</p> + +<p>So Jill and Lill, the twins had been called ever since.</p> + +<p>To most little American and English girls, the life they led would have +seemed very dull and forlorn indeed, but Jill and Lill had never known +any other. They were not yet six when their kind, merry young father +had died of the cruel Roman fever, which so often attacks imprudent +foreigners in the hot Italian summer, and they had come to live in the +tiny apartment in Florence, where good Signor and Signora Paloni—the +landlord and his wife—had taken the two little Americans into their +kind, elderly hearts, and petted and made much of them ever since. +Poor little Mummy had been quite heart-broken at the death of her +husband, whom she had loved very dearly, but the children's lives must +not be saddened; and so, being a brave little woman, she assumed a +cheerfulness she was very far from feeling, and it was only seldom that +Jill and Lill saw the tired, wistful look in her eyes, that they had +learned to know meant Mummy was discouraged.</p> + +<p>On several mornings of each week, summer and winter, Mummy went to one +of the great galleries, for which Florence is famous, and there she sat +for hours, making her poor little copies of the great pictures. She did +not like to leave the children alone all day, so she generally brought +them with her, and on fine days they would take their lunch—consisting +of a roll and a cake of chocolate apiece—out into the gardens, where +the fountains played and the birds sang in summer, and which were the +twins' only idea of what the country was like. Lately Mummy had been +fortunate in obtaining some drawing pupils in a large boarding-school +kept by an English woman, and three afternoons in the week she spent +teaching little English and French girls how to draw.</p> + +<p>But on this stormy December day there had been no going into the +gardens for lunch. They had eaten their rolls and chocolate on a bench +in the gallery, and Mummy had been in a hurry, because she was anxious +to finish her picture before leaving, and this was one of the drawing +class days. It was not very cheerful spending a whole long day in a +place where nobody ever spoke much above a whisper, and although the +twins knew and loved many of the beautiful pictures, they had looked +at them all so often that there had long ago ceased to be any novelty +about it. So after lunch they had retired to a recess by one of the +windows, and tried to pass the time by counting the raindrops.</p> + +<p>"It's very cold," said Lill, with a little shiver. "I wish there wasn't +any cold weather, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I like summer best," Jill admitted, "but then I suppose we should get +tired of it if we had it all the time." Jill was noted for a way she +had of always making the best of things, and looking on the bright +side—a quality she inherited from her brave, cheerful little mother.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't mind winter so much if we had snow here the way they do +in America," Lill went on. "I should love sleighing, and skating, and +all the nice things Mummy tells about. I wonder if we shall ever go to +America."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am sure we shall some day, when Mummy has made a great deal of +money."</p> + +<p>Lill sighed.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid that won't be for a long time," she said, "unless people +pay her much more for her pictures than they do now. Do you think she +would like to go?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Jill, thoughtfully; "perhaps it would make her +sad. I don't think she likes to talk very much about America."</p> + +<p>"I wonder why," said Lill. "I should think people would love talking +about the places where they used to live, shouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, unless sad things happened to them there. I think a good many sad +things must have happened to Mummy in America. You see, her father and +mother both died there, and Uncle George was so angry when she wanted +to go away and study art, instead of coming out in society the way all +the other girls he knew did. I wonder what 'coming out in society' +means."</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Lill, "but I'm glad Mummy didn't do it, for if she +had she wouldn't have married father."</p> + +<p>"She might have married somebody else, though," said Jill, practically, +"and then perhaps Uncle George wouldn't have been so angry."</p> + +<p>"I hate Uncle George," remarked Lill, in a tone of decision.</p> + +<p>"Mummy says it's wicked to hate people, and perhaps he couldn't help +being the way he was. Signor says some people are born disagreeable; +perhaps Uncle George was one of them."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he was," said Lill; "or Mummy wouldn't have loved +him so much. You know she said she loved him better than any one in +the world till she met father, and then of course she loved father +best, because she married him, and you always love the person you +marry better than anybody else. I don't believe Uncle George was born +disagreeable, I believe he was just wicked, and I hate him."</p> + +<p>Jill was silent. She had learned from long experience, that there was +never any use in arguing with her sister, for when Lill had once made +up her mind firmly on a subject, gentle and babyish as she looked, Lill +was capable of an amount of obstinacy that was quite a revelation to +her friends. There was a moment's silence, and then Lill went on.</p> + +<p>"It always makes me hot inside when I think about Uncle George and how +cruel he was to Mummy. Just think of his telling her he would never +see her again if she married father, and sending back all her letters +without reading them. Even when father was ill, and she wrote begging +him to send her a little money, he never answered her. I think if I +ever saw him I should—I should feel like doing something awful to him."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't think about him at all if it makes you feel like that," +said Jill, with a rather troubled glance at her sister's flushed cheeks +and flashing eyes. "I know Mummy would hate to have you say such +things. She never told us about what Uncle George did, and we wouldn't +have known anything about it if we hadn't met that Mrs. Trevor, who +used to know her in America, and heard her telling that other lady +about it. I don't suppose she would have said all those things if she +had known we were sitting on the bench right behind her. She only knew +about that letter Mummy wrote when father was ill, because she happened +to be in Rome at the same time. It isn't likely we shall ever see +Uncle George. Even Mummy has never seen him since she was married, and +she never tells us anything about him that isn't nice and kind."</p> + +<p>"I can't forget what that lady said, though," said Lill, obstinately. +"I keep thinking about it all the time, and it makes me so angry. Mummy +is so dear, and sweet, and precious; I don't believe she was ever +unkind to any one in her life. Oh, I wish I could meet Uncle George +sometime; just to let him see how I hate him!"</p> + +<p>"Don't let's talk any more about him," said Jill, soothingly. "Let's +talk about Christmas. Don't you wonder what Mummy's going to give us?"</p> + +<p>"I think I know, but I won't tell," said Lill, her face brightening. +"Oh, I do wish we had money enough to buy her a really beautiful +present, but we've only got three francs between us, and one can't buy +much with that!"</p> + +<p>"We can buy something, though," said cheerful Jill, "and Mummy's sure +to love it, whatever it is. She always says it isn't the money we spend +for a thing that counts, it's just the thought. Signora says she will +take us shopping some day before Christmas."</p> + +<p>"I know it's the thought that counts," said Lill, "but I wish we could +buy Mummy a nice present just the same. Wouldn't it be beautiful to be +rich, and to have a real Christmas tree, the kind they have in America? +Think of the parties Mummy used to have when she was a little girl, and +all the beautiful presents. O dear, how cold it is here! My feet are +almost frozen."</p> + +<p>"Let's pretend," suggested Jill, with a sudden inspiration. "We always +forget the disagreeable things when we pretend."</p> + +<p>Lill agreed, and the twins turned away from the contemplation of the +raindrops, and settled themselves on a bench, directly opposite one of +Raphael's beautiful Madonnas.</p> + +<p>"What shall we be to-day?" inquired Lill. Lill had less imagination +than Jill, and generally left the selection and planning of their games +to her more enterprising sister.</p> + +<p>Jill thought for a moment; then she said:</p> + +<p>"Let's pretend we are the two little princes in the Tower of London. +I'm sure they must often have been cold, so our being cold, too, will +make it seem more real. Pretend it's a cold, dark night, and we haven't +had any supper. We are afraid every one has forgotten us, and we won't +have anything to eat till morning. Then when we remember that it's +really day-time, and that we've just had lunch, we shall feel so nice +and comfy inside."</p> + +<p>"All right," agreed Lill; "let's begin."</p> + +<p>Instantly Jill's whole manner changed. She was no longer the little +Twentieth Century American girl, sitting on a bench in the Florence +picture gallery, but the little English prince shut up by a cruel uncle +in the old tower, patiently awaiting the terrible fate, which has made +the two little princes famous in history.</p> + +<p>"How dark and cold it is, brother," she began in a low tremulous voice. +"I fear our cruel captors have forgotten to bring us any supper, and we +shall have to stay here alone in the darkness till the morning."</p> + +<p>"Without any food," chimed in Lill, nestling a little closer to her +sister. When Lill "pretended" it always seemed very real to her, and +for the moment she almost fancied herself really the character she was +personating. "And if we have to stay alone in the cold and dark all +night, the rats will come, and that will be frightful. Oh, brother, I +am afraid—I am afraid!"</p> + +<p>"Courage," urged Jill. "Rats cannot hurt us. It is men we have to fear. +If our cruel uncle succeeds in carrying out his wicked plan, we shall +never see our dear home or our dear mother again. You know it is his +intention to have us smothered, and our bodies thrown into the river. +We have too many real dangers to fear to think of little things like +rats."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk about smothering," said Lill, relapsing into her natural +voice. "I hate that part of the story; it scares me. I wish they could +have been rescued just at the last minute, the way people generally are +in stories."</p> + +<p>"But this isn't a story, it's English history," protested Jill. "You +can't make things in history end happily, because they're true."</p> + +<p>"Don't true things ever end happily?" Lill inquired anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I suppose they do, sometimes, but the little princes didn't. I wish we +could go to London sometime, and see the Tower, and Westminster Abbey, +and all the other interesting places."</p> + +<p>"What a dreadfully wicked man the little princes' uncle must have +been," remarked Lill. "I wonder if most uncles are wicked. I don't +think I like uncles, anyway."</p> + +<p>"Hush," said Jill, in a warning whisper, and she glanced apprehensively +at a gentleman who had paused just in front of them to look at the +Raphael. He was a tall gentleman, evidently a tourist, and he was +dressed in black with a black band on his hat. How long he had been +there the twins did not know, having been too much absorbed in their +own affairs to notice, but as Lill pronounced her opinion of uncles, +he had suddenly turned from the great picture, and was regarding them +rather curiously.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't talk so loud," whispered Jill. "I'm afraid we disturbed +that gentleman. You know Mummy never lets us disturb people when they +are looking at the pictures."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he heard what I said," began Lill. Then she paused +abruptly, and grew crimson, as the gentleman quietly took the vacant +place on the bench by her side.</p> + +<p>"You must excuse me for interrupting you, young ladies," he said in +a rather pleasant voice, "but I couldn't help overhearing a little +of your conversation, and it has interested me very much. At first I +feared from your tones that you were really in trouble of some kind, +but I soon found that I was mistaken."</p> + +<p>He smiled, and his smile was pleasant, too, though it was sad. His +whole expression was sad, and although he was not at all old, there was +something in his face that made the twins feel unaccountably sorry for +him.</p> + +<p>"We were pretending to be the two little princes in the Tower of +London," said Jill, feeling that she must offer some explanation; "you +know the ones whose cruel uncle had them smothered and thrown into the +river."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have heard of them. You seem to have formed a rather poor +opinion of uncles in general. May I ask if you often pretend in quite +such a realistic fashion?"</p> + +<p>"We like to pretend," said Jill, blushing. "It's one of the few things +we can do without making a noise, and of course we can't play noisy +games in the galleries."</p> + +<p>"And why do you choose the galleries for a play-ground? I should think +you might find them uncomfortably cold sometimes."</p> + +<p>"We don't mind the cold much," said Jill, "we are used to it, you see. +We come to the galleries almost every day, because our mother doesn't +like to leave us at home alone all day long."</p> + +<p>"And may I ask what your mother does in the galleries?" the gentleman +inquired, in a tone of evident interest.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt="" id="illus2"> + <div class="caption"> + <p><span class="smcap">And may I ask what your mother does in the galleries?</span>"</p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>"She copies the pictures," said Jill, and Lill, forgetting her shyness +at the mention of her adored mother, added proudly—</p> + +<p>"Mummy's very clever. She gives drawing lessons at one of the big +schools as well as copying the pictures. Our father painted beautiful +pictures, too."</p> + +<p>The expression of interest on the stranger's face deepened, and he +regarded Lill more attentively. Indeed, he had been looking at Lill all +the time Jill was talking.</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" he said, and there was a note of real eagerness in his +voice. "Now, I wonder if I have ever happened to hear of your father's +pictures. Would you mind telling me his name?"</p> + +<p>"It was Robert Dinsmore," said Lill, "but he died a long time ago when +we lived in Rome."</p> + +<p>The gentleman was silent for a moment, and Jill noticed with surprise, +that he had grown rather pale, and that the hand resting idly on his +knee trembled slightly; but when he spoke again his voice was quite +calm.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think I have ever seen any of your father's pictures," +he said, "but then I am an American, and this is my first visit to +Florence."</p> + +<p>"We are Americans, too," said Jill eagerly. "We have never been to +America, because our father and mother came to live in Italy before +we were born, but we hope we shall go some day; Mummy has told us so +much about it."</p> + +<p>"And you live here in Florence, I suppose, and your mother sells her +copies of the pictures?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, that's what she paints them for, but people don't pay very +much for them, and so she was very glad to have the drawing class at +the English school."</p> + +<p>The gentleman rose abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps I may want to buy some copies to take back to America +with me," he said, "so suppose you give me your mother's address, in +case I should take a fancy to look at some of hers."</p> + +<p>"She sells hers at the shops," Jill explained, "but she has some at +home that the shop people wouldn't take. Perhaps you might like to look +at them. We live on the Lungarno Acciasill, at Signor Paloni's. Our +apartment is on the top floor."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said the gentleman; "I will remember the address. And your +name is Dinsmore, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I am Jane Dinsmore, though every one calls me Jill, and my +sister's name is Lilian."</p> + +<p>"Lilian," repeated the stranger, and an oddly softened look came into +his face. "So they called one of you Lilian."</p> + +<p>"I am named for my grandmother," Lill explained. "People always call me +Lill, because it rhymes with Jill, and we are twins, but I think Lilian +is much prettier."</p> + +<p>"So do I," said the gentleman, and he smiled his sad smile again. "I +had a little Lilian of my own once, and I am very fond of the name. Is +your mother here to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Jill; "she is copying the <i>Madonna delta Duca</i>. Would you +like to see her, and ask about the pictures at home?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, I don't care to see her. I merely asked out of curiosity. I +must be hurrying along now. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>"What a nice gentleman!" remarked Jill, as soon as their new +acquaintance was out of ear-shot. "I'm afraid he won't come to look at +Mummy's pictures, though; he didn't seem much interested."</p> + +<p>"I think he was interested," said Lill. "He had such a queer look in +his eyes all the time he was talking to us, and wasn't it funny he +should have had a little girl named Lilian?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose there must be a good many Lilians in the world," returned +practical Jill. "I think his little girl is dead, for he looked so sad +when he spoke of her, and did you notice the black band on his hat?"</p> + +<p>At that moment the twins caught sight of a little woman in a gray dress +coming towards them, and instantly the stranger and his affairs were +forgotten, as they sprang to their feet and hurried to meet Mummy. +Mummy was a very little woman indeed. She was not much taller than +Lill, and Jill quite towered over her when they walked in the street +together. She looked very young to be the mother of two such big girls, +and there was an innocent, almost childlike expression in the blue eyes +that were so like Lill's, that all the sorrow and anxiety of years had +failed to banish. Mummy had fought her way through more than one fierce +battle with fate, but she still kept her simple faith, and believed +that people meant to be kind, and that the world was, after all, a +very good place. There was only one person the thought of whom could +banish the look of sweet serenity from her face, and that was her only +brother, to whom she had been devotedly attached, and whose unkind +treatment had been the one cup of bitterness in her life.</p> + +<p>"You are through early to-day," said Jill, as she and Lill each +slipped an arm lovingly round Mummy's waist.</p> + +<p>"A little early, but it was so cold I was afraid to keep you here any +longer."</p> + +<p>"We didn't mind it much," said Jill. "We pretended we were the little +princes in the Tower, and being cold made it seem more real, because +they must often have been very cold, you know."</p> + +<p>Mummy laughed in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing like looking on the bright side of things, is there?" +she said. "I am glad you enjoyed playing you were the little princes in +the Tower, but I can't help wishing you had warmer jackets."</p> + +<p>"Lill," whispered Jill, as they dropped behind Mummy for a moment going +out of the gallery, "don't say anything about the gentleman."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" inquired Lill, in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Because perhaps he won't ever come to see the pictures, and if Mummy +thinks he's coming, and he doesn't, she'll be so disappointed."</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IIa">CHAPTER II</h2> +</div> + + +<p>"There, everything is ready, and when Mummy comes in there won't be +a single thing for her to do but sit down and drink her tea, and get +warm."</p> + +<p>Jill spoke in a tone of satisfaction, and as she did so she glanced +about the cosy little room, with an air of pardonable pride. It was a +rather shabbily furnished little room, and everything in it was of the +cheapest and plainest, but it was as neat as hands could make it, and +the lamp burning on the table, and the tea-kettle humming on the stove, +gave an air of comfort and cheerfulness to the humble surroundings, +that Jill's home-loving little soul was quick to feel.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid she'll be dreadfully wet," said Lill, anxiously. "Just +listen to the rain!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's a horrid night, but it's nice and warm in here, and when +Mummy gets her wet things off, and drinks her tea, I know she'll love +it. Isn't it nice we've learned to make the tea and toast, so we can +have them all ready when she comes in?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to learn to cook," said Lill. "It would be such fun to +cook the whole dinner some day, and have it waiting for Mummy. Wouldn't +she be surprised?"</p> + +<p>"It would be splendid if we could really do it well," agreed the more +cautious Jill. "The trouble is, we might spoil things at first and +that would be such a dreadful waste when everything costs so much. I +shouldn't like to feel I had wasted food, should you?"</p> + +<p>"No, but I don't believe we should if we got Signora to teach us. I +know she would if we asked her. She likes cooking, and is so economical +that I'm sure she would never let us waste anything."</p> + +<p>"All right, let's ask her. We'll tell Mummy we want to stay at home +some day, and get Signora to give us a cooking lesson."</p> + +<p>At that moment there was a tap at the door, and in answer to Jill's +bidding to enter, Signora Paloni herself appeared. She was a +rosy-cheeked little woman, with very bright eyes, and a pleasant smile, +and there was no one in the world, with the exception of their mother, +whom the twins loved so much.</p> + +<p>"<i>Buon giorno, Signora</i>, we were just talking about you," said Lill, in +her pretty, fluent Italian. Signora Paloni spoke no English, but the +twins talked Italian as well as their own language, if not better. "We +want to know if you will teach us how to cook a real dinner, so we can +surprise Mummy some day?"</p> + +<p>"Of a certainty I will," said the landlady, beaming with pleasure. "It +is a kind thought to wish to save the dear mother trouble. I came up to +see if the tea was ready, for it is a terrible night, and the poor lady +will be so wet."</p> + +<p>"It's all ready," said Jill, proudly, "and the bread is cut, so Lill +can make the toast the minute Mummy comes in. She is late to-night."</p> + +<p>"She will come soon," said Signora Paloni, cheerfully, "and in the +meantime I have news for you. Guess what good fortune has just befallen +us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Signora, what is it? Please tell us," cried both twins at once.</p> + +<p>"We have rented our first-floor apartment at last—the apartment that +has been empty for so long."</p> + +<p>"Who has taken it?" inquired Jill, with interest. Signora Paloni's +first-floor apartment was, in the eyes of the twins at least, a very +grand place indeed.</p> + +<p>"A countryman of yours; a gentleman from America. He intends spending +some time in Florence, he tells us, and he does not care for the +hotels. My husband asked him how he had heard of us, and he said the +house had been recommended to him. He speaks very little Italian, but +he made us understand. I am to prepare his morning coffee, and for his +other meals he will go to the restaurants. We are wondering what kind +friend has done us this good turn."</p> + +<p>"And will he give you your price?" inquired Jill, who seldom forgot +business details.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and what is more, he has paid us a month's rent in advance. He +seemed to fear we might not trust him, as he is a stranger to us, but +we should not have feared; he has a good face."</p> + +<p>"When is he coming?" Lill wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"He will take possession to-morrow, and as he is not quite satisfied +with the furniture, he has asked if he may bring in a few extra things."</p> + +<p>"But the furniture is beautiful!" cried Jill, indignantly. "How could +any one want better?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, my little one," said the landlady, smiling, "you have never +visited the houses of the rich. My little apartment is neat and +comfortable, and in it are many relics of our family, which are to my +husband and me very precious, but to a rich American gentleman it must +seem but a poor place."</p> + +<p>"What is the gentleman's name?" asked Lill.</p> + +<p>"Mr. George H. Brown," said Signora Paloni, pronouncing the name very +slowly and distinctly, and making it sound as if it were "Misterre +Georga Ash Broon."</p> + +<p>"That's not a very pretty name," said Jill, and her interest in the +stranger flagged. "Now, Signora, about those cooking lessons?"</p> + +<p>Signora Paloni was quite ready to talk about the lessons, and entered +heartily into the children's scheme. They were deep in the discussion +of ways and means when Mummy arrived, cold, wet, but cheerful as usual. +Then the landlady had to tell her news all over again, and Mummy +listened and sympathized while she dried her skirts, and sipped the cup +of hot tea the twins had prepared for her. But though always kind and +sympathetic, the twins noticed that their mother did not seem quite +as attentive as she usually was to Signora Paloni's long stories, and +when the landlady was leaving the room at last, Mummy suddenly roused +herself from a fit of abstraction to ask—</p> + +<p>"May I have a little talk with you in your room this evening, Signora? +I want to consult you about something."</p> + +<p>It was Mummy's custom to teach the twins for an hour or two every +evening, and, on the whole, they rather enjoyed the lessons. Mummy +was a good teacher, and had a way of making history and geography +interesting, although she was often very tired after her hard day's +work, and would much have preferred going to bed to teaching little +girls. She was a conscientious little woman, and seldom allowed +inclination to interfere with duty, so it was a great surprise to the +children on this particular evening, when the frugal supper had been +eaten, and the dishes washed and cleared away, that Mummy, instead of +getting out the lesson books as usual, drew the arm-chair close to the +stove, and seated herself, as if for a comfortable chat.</p> + +<p>"I think we will take a holiday this evening," she said. "There is +something I want to talk to you about."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mummy, how nice!" cried Lill, immediately perching herself on one +arm of her mother's chair, while Jill took possession of the other. +This had been one of their favorite positions ever since they had +grown too heavy to sit on Mummy's lap.</p> + +<p>"Is it something pleasant?" Jill asked, with a rather anxious glance +into Mummy's face. "Are you going to have more pupils?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly, though it may lead to my having more pupils in the end," +said Mummy, smiling. "It is about an offer I have received, and that I +don't intend to accept until I have talked to my little girls about it."</p> + +<p>Jill slipped an arm affectionately round Mummy's neck.</p> + +<p>"Tell us all about it, Mummy dear," she said, softly.</p> + +<p>"I am going to tell you; that is why we are not having lessons this +evening. Miss Dexter—the English lady who is at the head of the school +where I teach—sent word that she wished to see me this afternoon after +the class. It seems, some of the older girls, who are not going home +for the Christmas vacation, are very anxious to take a little trip into +Sicily. Miss Dexter cannot very well go with them herself, and she is +trying to find some one whom she can send as a chaperon."</p> + +<p>"And she wants you to go—oh, Mummy, how delightful!" cried the twins, +and Lill added rapturously—</p> + +<p>"I know you'll love it. You have always said you wished you could see +Sicily."</p> + +<p>"I should like to go very much, and I consider it a great honor that +Miss Dexter should consider me able to fill such an important position, +but there are several drawbacks. The principal one is that I should +have to be away at least two weeks, and that is a long time to leave my +little girls."</p> + +<p>The twins were silent. Never in their lives had their mother left +them for more than a night at a time, and the thought of a two-weeks' +separation was not pleasant. Jill was the first to speak; she had +always been the more unselfish of the two.</p> + +<p>"It would be hard to have you go, Mummy, but you would have such a good +time, and Signora would take care of us."</p> + +<p>"I know she would. Otherwise nothing would induce me to leave you. I +know, too, that you would both be good children, and not give her any +trouble, but there is something else. The girls want to start next +Friday, and that means that they will be away over Christmas."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mummy, we can't be without you on Christmas!" cried Lill, in +dismay. "It would be dreadful."</p> + +<p>Jill gave her sister a warning glance.</p> + +<p>"We might wait and keep Christmas when Mummy came back," she suggested. +"Then she could tell us all about Sicily, and the interesting things +she saw there. It wouldn't be quite the same thing, of course, but it +would be better than not having any Christmas at all."</p> + +<p>"But it would be so queer not to hang up our stockings, and have Mummy +give us our presents the first thing Christmas morning," objected Lill. +"We've always had such good times on Christmas."</p> + +<p>"I know that," said Mummy, "and it was my chief reason for hesitating +about accepting Miss Dexter's offer. I have always tried to make your +Christmases as happy as possible, because I loved the day so much +myself when I was a little girl. I have told Miss Dexter I will give +her my answer to-morrow."</p> + +<p>There was a pause, during which nobody spoke for fully three minutes. +Both twins were looking very serious, and Lill's lip was trembling a +little. Again it was Jill who was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>"It will be very sad to have Christmas without you, Mummy," she said, +"but you will have such a good change, and you haven't had a change in +ever so long. If you are only away two weeks, you will be back in time +for New Year's, and we can hang up our stockings and do all the nice +things then, and pretend it's Christmas; can't we, Lill?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lill in a very low voice, and she swallowed hard to keep +down the big lump in her throat.</p> + +<p>Mummy bent and kissed both grave little faces.</p> + +<p>"My own dear, brave little girlies," was all she said, but the twins +felt as happy as if she had given them each a present.</p> + +<p>The rest of that evening was rather forlorn. Mummy went downstairs, to +talk things over with Signora Paloni, and as soon as she had left the +room Lill broke down and indulged in a good, hearty cry. Jill also shed +a few tears, but with characteristic cheerfulness, soon dried her eyes, +and began to look on the bright side as usual.</p> + +<p>"Oh, just think of all the interesting things Mummy will have to tell +us when she comes home," she said. "It will be almost as good as going +to Sicily ourselves. Have you noticed how tired her eyes have looked +lately? She does work so hard, and the change will do her so much good."</p> + +<p>"I know it will," sobbed Lill, "and I don't want to be selfish, but +it's so dreadful to think of her being away on Christmas. We shall miss +her so. I don't really see how we are going to live without her for two +whole weeks."</p> + +<p>"Two weeks isn't such a very long time," said Jill, with a little catch +in her voice, "and Signora will be very good to us. Besides," she +added, brightening, "it will be such a good time to learn to cook while +Mummy's away."</p> + +<p>Lill took out her handkerchief, and dried her eyes.</p> + +<p>"We can do that, can't we?" she said, in a more hopeful tone, "and +won't Mummy be surprised when she comes home. Oh, Jill, don't let me be +selfish! I feel awfully like being, but I don't want to spoil Mummy's +good time."</p> + +<p>"We won't either of us be selfish," said Jill, slipping an arm lovingly +about her sister's waist. "We'll just make the best of it, and try to +let Mummy think we don't mind much."</p> + +<p>And they did try to make the best of it, but I doubt very much if Mummy +was deceived by appearances. She didn't say much, but when bedtime +came, she took them both in her arms at once, and hugged them.</p> + +<p>"You precious kiddies," she said. "You make Mummy's heart ache, but +she's prouder of you than if you had won all the prizes at Miss +Dexter's." And there were actually tears in her eyes, although she +tried to laugh.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IIIa">CHAPTER III</h2> +</div> + + +<p>It was Christmas afternoon, and the twins were alone in the tiny +apartment. It had been a very strange, dull Christmas, although every +one had been kind, and the Palonis had done their best to give the +little girls a good time. In the morning Signora Paloni had taken them +to the Christmas mass at the Duomo, and they had really enjoyed the +beautiful music, and the unfamiliar service. When Mummy was at home +they always attended the little American church, where the service +was very simple, a great contrast to the high mass at the cathedral. +Afterwards they had dined with their kind landlord and his wife, and +feasted on roast chicken stuffed with chestnuts, a delicacy very rare +in their simple lives, for meat costs money, and Mummy's means were +limited. And now it was late in the afternoon, and the Palonis had +gone out to spend the evening, leaving the twins in charge of Tessa, +the Italian maid-of-all-work, who had promised to give them their +supper, and see that they went to bed at their usual hour. They were +both feeling very forlorn and lonely. They missed their mother more +than they liked to talk about, and they had been obliged to "pretend" +very hard all the afternoon, in order to keep up even the faintest +semblance of cheerfulness. They had in turn personated most of their +favorite characters, including Queen Elizabeth, George Washington, and +Savonarola. They had heard a great deal about Savonarola through having +spent so much time in Florence. At last Jill proposed that they should +be the little Princes in the Tower.</p> + +<p>"We haven't played that since that afternoon in the gallery," she said. +"It was the day Mummy told us about going to Sicily, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lill, with a sigh, "and do you remember the gentleman who +talked to us and asked where we lived? We thought he might buy some of +Mummy's pictures."</p> + +<p>"Well, you see he didn't," said Jill. "I didn't believe he really +would."</p> + +<p>"He had a kind face, though," said Lill, reflectively. "I wonder if he +would have done it if he had known how much Mummy needed the money. He +said he had a little girl named Lilian once. I wonder when she died, +and what was the matter with her."</p> + +<p>"That reminds me of something Tessa told me this morning," said Jill. +"You know the American gentleman, who has taken the first-floor +apartment, and who slipped on a piece of orange peel on the sidewalk, +and sprained his knee, the very day after he came here. Well, it's +dreadfully sad about him; his wife and little girl were both drowned +last summer."</p> + +<p>"How did Tessa know about it?" Lill inquired, with interest.</p> + +<p>"The gentleman told her. You see, after he had his accident he had to +have somebody to do things for him, so the doctor who attended to his +knee sent a man who can talk English, because Mr. Brown—that's the +gentleman's name—can't speak much Italian, and the man told Tessa all +about it."</p> + +<p>"It must be dreadfully sad for him to be all alone, especially on +Christmas," said Lill, sympathetically. "I'm afraid he's having a worse +Christmas than we are."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure he is," said Jill. "I wish we could do something for him, +don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I don't see what we could possibly do. We don't even know +him."</p> + +<p>"I know we don't, but we might get acquainted. If Mummy were at home, +I'm almost sure she would get acquainted with him; she's always so +sorry for people who are unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that we might go to see him?" inquired Lill, in growing +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"I don't think there would be any harm in our doing it, when he's +living right here in the same house with us. We wouldn't stay long, of +course, only just enough to wish him a Merry Christmas, and we might +take him a little present."</p> + +<p>"But perhaps he doesn't want people to come to see him. He might think +we were very queer to do such a thing," objected Lill, who was more +shy, and less quick to make friends than her sister.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how he could possibly think it queer. He's an American +just the same as we are, and in America Mummy says people always wish +each other a Merry Christmas. Besides, if we saw he didn't like our +coming, we could go right away again. I think it would be a kind, +neighborly thing to do."</p> + +<p>"What sort of a present could we take him if we went?" questioned Lill, +glancing about the shabby little room, as if in the faint hope of +finding some inspiration from the furniture.</p> + +<p>"We might take him one of those nice oranges Signor gave us, and a +piece of Signora's cake," suggested Jill, referring to the only two +Christmas presents which had come to the twins on that day.</p> + +<p>The suggestion met with Lill's approval, and after a little more +discussion the matter was settled. Ten minutes later the twins were on +their way downstairs, Jill carrying a plate, on which was a large slice +of Signora Paloni's frosted cake, and Lill proudly bearing two oranges.</p> + +<p>"We had better take two," she had declared. "There's nothing so good +as fruit to eat when you don't feel well, and if his knee hurts him a +great deal he may be feverish."</p> + +<p>"It does seem very queer to go to see somebody you don't know at all," +Lill said, hesitating, when they had reached the last landing, and were +standing outside Mr. Brown's door.</p> + +<p>"We wouldn't do it on any other day but Christmas," said Jill, +resolutely, and without giving her sister time for any further +hesitation, she lifted her hand and knocked.</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence; then some one called "Come in" in +English; Jill turned the handle, and next moment the twins found +themselves in a comfortably furnished sitting-room, with a wood fire +crackling on the hearth.</p> + +<p>In an arm-chair, drawn up before the fire, sat the owner of the +apartment, one leg supported on a stool. His back was towards the door, +but at the entrance of the children, he turned his head, and at sight +of his face both twins uttered an involuntary exclamation of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's the gentleman who talked to us in the gallery!" cried Jill.</p> + +<p>"We didn't know you were Mr. Brown," added Jill, almost dropping the +oranges in her surprise.</p> + +<p>The gentleman smiled.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't suppose you did," he said. "I haven't seen many people +since I came here. I met with an unfortunate accident a few days ago."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we heard about it," said Lill, sympathetically. "I suppose that's +why you didn't—"</p> + +<p>She paused abruptly, admonished by a warning nudge from Jill.</p> + +<p>"Didn't what?" the gentleman asked. His eyes were fixed earnestly on +Lill, and there was the same softened look in them that the twins had +noticed when he told them that he had once had a little Lilian of his +own.</p> + +<p>Lill blushed scarlet, and her eyes drooped.</p> + +<p>"I was going to say something," she explained, "but perhaps it wouldn't +be polite."</p> + +<p>"Say it. I am not a very polite person myself, so I shall not mind +whether it is or not."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Lill, slowly, "it wasn't anything important, only you +know you asked where we lived, and we told you about Mummy's pictures. +We thought perhaps you would come to look at them, but of course you +couldn't on account of your knee."</p> + +<p>"That's true; I couldn't, even if I had intended to. This confounded +knee has upset a good many of my plans. But suppose you come in and +shut the door; it's rather chilly."</p> + +<p>Lill complied with this request, and Jill hastened to explain the cause +of their visit.</p> + +<p>"We didn't come to stay," she said, carefully depositing her plate on +the table. "We only stopped to wish you a Merry Christmas, and to bring +you some cake and oranges. We thought you might like them."</p> + +<p>"I do like them very much indeed," said Mr. Brown, and it was wonderful +how kind and pleasant his face became all at once. "It was kind of you +to remember a solitary prisoner. Won't you both sit down?"</p> + +<p>The twins promptly seated themselves on the sofa, which was directly +opposite Mr. Brown's arm-chair. They were beginning to enjoy the little +adventure.</p> + +<p>"You see we knew you were an American, just like us," said Lill, "Mummy +says in America people always wish each other a Merry Christmas."</p> + +<p>"Your mother is away, is she not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she has gone to Sicily with some young ladies from the school +where she gives drawing lessons. It's the first time she has ever left +us, and it was dreadful to have her go, but she's having a lovely time."</p> + +<p>"We had a letter from her this morning," chimed in Jill, giving the +pocket which contained the precious letter an affectionate pat. "She +sent it so we would surely get it on Christmas, and she told us so many +interesting, wonderful things. She was in Palermo when she wrote, but +she was going to Messina. Perhaps you would like to hear the letter; +it's so very interesting."</p> + +<p>"I should be very glad to hear it," said Mr. Brown, and his voice +actually sounded almost eager.</p> + +<p>Jill was delighted, and promptly produced the letter, which she already +knew almost by heart.</p> + +<p>"I'll begin and read the first half, and Lill can finish it," she said, +magnanimously. "We both like to read it so much."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Mr. Brown, and he smiled again, in what Lill afterwards +pronounced, "such a nice, understanding way."</p> + +<p>So Jill began the letter, in a sweet, clear voice, and when she had +read the first half, she handed it to Lill, who read the rest, with +equal pride and satisfaction. Mr. Brown made no comments, but the twins +felt sure he was listening, and as they went on, his face grew very sad +and tender, and at last he turned it partly away from the light, and +shaded his eyes with his hand.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it the most interesting letter you ever heard?" demanded Lill, +proudly, when she had finished the last sentence, and was replacing the +precious document in the envelope.</p> + +<p>"It is a charming letter," said Mr. Brown, heartily. "You are very fond +of your mother, are you not?"</p> + +<p>"Fond of her!" cried Lill. "I should think we were; we just adore her. +There isn't anybody in the world like Mummy. You can't think how she +works, and what a hard time she has when people won't buy her pictures."</p> + +<p>"Tell me about it," said Mr. Brown, and there was something in his +voice that made Lill go on almost in spite of herself. Jill did not +feel at all sure whether Mummy would approve of having her private +affairs revealed to a stranger, and would have stopped her sister if +she could, but Lill had forgotten everything in the world except her +mother's cheerful bravery, and her anxiety that this strange gentleman +with the sad smile and kind eyes, should know and appreciate her. So +she told all about their father's sad death in Rome, of their coming to +Florence, and of all Mummy's struggles and difficulties.</p> + +<p>"She never complains or says she's tired," finished Lill, with a break +in her voice, "but we can see the tired look in her eyes, and it makes +us feel as if we wanted to cry."</p> + +<p>"Has your mother no friends or relatives who can help her?" Mr. Brown +was looking straight into the fire as he asked the question.</p> + +<p>"She has a brother, but he doesn't ever do anything to help her," said +Lill, impulsively.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he doesn't know that she needs help. Does she ever write to +him?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe so, but even if she did, I'm sure he wouldn't help +her, because—"</p> + +<p>"I don't think Mummy would like to have us talk about that," said Jill, +who had suddenly grown very red. "I'm afraid we shall have to go now," +she added, rising. "We only came to wish you a Merry Christmas, and to +bring the cake and oranges."</p> + +<p>"Well, you haven't wished me a Merry Christmas yet," said Mr. Brown, +"and I haven't thanked you for your presents. Don't be in a hurry. It's +pretty lonely shut up in this room all day. My man is out, or I would +offer you some tea."</p> + +<p>"Mummy doesn't let us drink tea," said Lill, "but we often make it for +her. We will make some for you if you would like to have us."</p> + +<p>"I should like it immensely," Mr. Brown assured her. "I have been +longing for a cup of tea for the past half-hour, and I have no idea how +soon my man will be back. I gave him the afternoon off to spend with +his family. I think you will find everything you need in that closet."</p> + +<p>For the next ten minutes the twins were very busy. Their housewifely +little souls swelled with pride at this opportunity of displaying their +culinary abilities, and as they made the tea they chattered away to +their new acquaintance, telling all about their plan for learning +to cook a real dinner to surprise Mummy when she came home, and in +their innocent prattle divulging many of the details of their simple +lives. And Mr. Brown listened, almost in silence, and as the children +chattered on, the look of sadness deepened in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"And now what can I offer you in the way of refreshments?" he asked, +smiling, as Lill triumphantly brought him a cup of steaming tea, which +he declared to be the very best he had ever tasted. "Suppose we begin +on the cake. It looks delicious."</p> + +<p>"No, no, that's all for you," protested Lill. "Signora Paloni made us +a big cake, and we've got plenty more upstairs. Besides, we don't need +anything to eat. We dined with the Palonis, and they had such good +things."</p> + +<p>"What did they have?" Mr. Brown inquired with interest, as he sipped +his tea.</p> + +<p>"Roast chicken stuffed with chestnuts, and fried potatoes, and +artichokes cooked in cream. And for dessert there was fruit, and the +Palonis had wine."</p> + +<p>"Not a very elaborate Christmas dinner, I should say," said Mr. Brown, +laughing. "How about the plum pudding and mince pie?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, they don't have those things in Italy," Jill explained. "Mummy has +told us about them, and they must be delicious, but we are very fond of +roast chicken, and we very seldom have it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brown suddenly set down his cup.</p> + +<p>"What do you usually have for dinner?" he asked, sharply.</p> + +<p>Jill was a little startled at this question, which struck her as +somewhat curious, but Lill answered innocently—</p> + +<p>"Oh, we have soup and vegetables and macaroni, and on Sundays we have +salad, and sometimes Mummy makes a pudding. Oh, we have very good +dinners, but of course they are not like the Palonis'."</p> + +<p>"Come here," said Mr. Brown, in a voice that was not quite steady, +and he put out his hand and drew Lill to him. "I want to talk to you +a little before you go away. I had a little Lilian of my own last +Christmas, and she was very much like you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," said Lill, softly; "you told us in the gallery, and +Tessa, Signora Paloni's maid—told us about the dreadful thing that +happened. We were so sorry. That was one reason why we wanted to come +to see you to-day. We were afraid you might be lonely."</p> + +<p>"Lonely!" repeated Mr. Brown, sadly. "Ah, my little girl, I hope you +may never know what loneliness like mine means. It was very good of +you to come to see me, and I appreciate it more than I can express. +You have each brought me a present, and now I want to give you one in +return."</p> + +<p>He put his hand into his pocket, from whence he produced a shining gold +piece, which he held out to Lill.</p> + +<p>"It's only a trifle," he said, carelessly, "but you can buy something +you want with it."</p> + +<p>But to his surprise, Lill drew back, her cheeks crimsoning.</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," she said timidly, "but please don't be angry, we +couldn't possibly take it; Mummy wouldn't like to have us."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," began Mr. Brown, impatiently; then checked himself at sight +of the children's embarrassment. "Do you really think your mother would +object to your accepting a little present?" he asked, kindly.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid she would," said Jill, coming to her sister's rescue. "I +am quite sure she wouldn't like to have us take money from some one she +doesn't know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is the trouble, is it? Well, I think we may be able to get +over that difficulty when your mother comes home, and in the meantime, +you are quite right not to do anything you think she would disapprove. +How old are you, by the way?"</p> + +<p>"We were eleven in October," said Jill, feeling much relieved at seeing +Mr. Brown put the gold piece back in his pocket, "but I am much taller +than Lill."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Lill is small for her age; she is not any taller than my little +girl, and she was only nine."</p> + +<p>"Do I really look so much like her?" inquired Lill, her big, innocent +eyes fixed earnestly on Mr. Brown's face.</p> + +<p>"Very much indeed; so much that I sometimes almost fancy—but there, +there, we won't talk about sad things, especially on Christmas. Come +and see me again."</p> + +<p>"Yes indeed we will," said Jill, heartily; "we've had a lovely time, +and we're ever so much obliged to you for letting us make the tea."</p> + +<p>Lill said nothing, but with a sudden impulse, she slipped her hand +confidingly into Mr. Brown's. For a moment his fingers closed tightly +over the little hand, and then he bent and kissed her on the forehead.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," he said, in a low, unsteady voice. "God bless you, little +Lilian."</p> + +<p>"What a very nice gentleman!" exclaimed Jill, as the twins went +upstairs together. "I think he was really very glad to see us. Aren't +you glad we went?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lill. "I like him very much, but, oh, Jill, he has such a +sad look in his eyes. I never felt so sorry for any one before. I do +wish we could do something for him that would make him really happy."</p> + +<p>For several minutes after the door had closed behind his visitors, Mr. +Brown remained in the same position, staring into the fire with dim, +unseeing eyes. Then suddenly his head sank forward on the table beside +him, with a sigh that was almost a groan.</p> + +<p>"God forgive me," he murmured brokenly. "My poor little Kitty! I never +dreamed it had been as bad as this. But I will atone, God helping me, I +will atone."</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IVa">CHAPTER IV</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Signora Paloni was teaching the twins to prepare <i>gniocchi</i>, which is +a favorite Italian dish, and tastes something like baked Indian meal +with cheese in it; and it would be difficult to say which of the three, +teacher or pupils, had enjoyed herself the most. It was three days +since Christmas, and that morning's post had brought another letter +from Mummy, containing the joyful news that they might expect her at +home again by the end of the week.</p> + +<p>"It hasn't been so very dreadful, after all, has it?" remarked Jill, +as she put the precious letter carefully away in a place of safety. "I +don't believe things are ever as bad as people think they're going to +be." In which sentiment Lill was quite ready to agree.</p> + +<p>"It does smell good," exclaimed Lill, surveying the result of their +afternoon's work with pardonable pride. "How I wish Mummy could come in +this very minute, and eat it all for her supper!"</p> + +<p>"We'll cook some more the day she comes home, and have it ready for +a surprise," suggested Jill. "I wish we could give some of this to +somebody, though; we never can eat it all ourselves. Do you think +Signor would care for it for his supper?"</p> + +<p>Signora Paloni replied that her husband was not fond of <i>gniocchi</i> +which he declared always gave him indigestion.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what we might do," said Lill, with a sudden inspiration. +"Take some down to Mr. Brown. I'm sure he'd like it, and his man could +warm it up for supper."</p> + +<p>"May we, Signora?" Jill inquired, a little doubtfully. Signora Paloni +had not altogether approved of their Christmas visit.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen do not like being disturbed in their apartments," she had +said, reprovingly, "and it is not the thing for young ladies to visit +strangers. You must not go there again till your mother returns."</p> + +<p>The twins had felt sure that Mr. Brown had not objected to their +visit, and they did not believe Mummy would have objected, but a long +experience had taught them that there was never any use in arguing with +the good Signora, and so the matter had dropped. So it was something +of a surprise to both children when the landlady, instead of positively +refusing to allow them to take the dish to her lodger, only looked a +little troubled, and said doubtfully—</p> + +<p>"I do not know what your mother would say to it, but I can see no harm, +provided you only take the plate to the door, and come away at once. He +seems a kind gentleman, and he is a countryman of yours."</p> + +<p>"Of course he is," said Jill, "and you can't think how kind he was, and +how much he seemed to enjoy our tea."</p> + +<p>"I think he is interested in you, for Tessa tells me he asks many +questions about you," said Signora Paloni, putting some of the +<i>gniocchi</i> into a plate. "We will cover it with a napkin to keep it +warm. Which of you will take it to the gentleman's apartment?"</p> + +<p>"You go, Lill," said Jill. "I think he likes you best on account of +your name."</p> + +<p>"Be sure to return at once," were Signora Paloni's parting words, as +Lill left the room with her offering. To this Lill replied that she +wouldn't be gone five minutes.</p> + +<p>As far as appearances went, Mr. Brown might not have moved since the +twins left him three days before, for Lill found him in precisely the +same position before the fire, his injured leg supported on a stool. He +was not alone this time, for his attendant, a pleasant-faced man with +gray hair, opened the door in answer to Lill's knock, and courteously +requested her to enter. Lill hesitated, mindful of Signora Paloni's +injunctions, and was just about to leave her plate with the man, when +Mr. Brown called out to know who was there.</p> + +<p>"It's I, Lill Dinsmore," said Lill, stepping forward.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brown threw down the book he had been reading, and held out his +hand.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to see you," he said. "I was beginning to think you'd +forgotten your promise to come again. What have you been doing all this +time?"</p> + +<p>"We would have liked to come sooner," said Lill, relinquishing her +plate to the attendant, and slipping her hand confidingly into Mr. +Brown's. "We wanted to come yesterday, but Signora Paloni was afraid we +might bother you."</p> + +<p>"Well, you can tell Signora Paloni that she doesn't know anything about +it. You don't bother me in the least, and I want you to come whenever +you choose."</p> + +<p>"You're very kind," said Lill, flushing with pleasure. "I'll tell her, +and I'm sure she won't mind our coming when she knows you want us. I +can only stay a minute now, though, because Signora is giving us a +cooking lesson. I came to bring you something we made this afternoon, +that we thought you might like for your supper."</p> + +<p>"I am sure I shall, but I wish you were going to stay and help me eat +it, for I should like that even better. It isn't exciting spending day +after day shut up in the house by one's self."</p> + +<p>"It must be perfectly horrid," Lill agreed, sympathetically. "I hope +your knee is better."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's getting on as well as can be expected. The doctor was here +this morning, and he says I shall be about again in another week. Any +more letters from Sicily, eh?"</p> + +<p>"We had one this morning," said Lill, her face brightening at the +recollection. "Mummy's having a lovely time, but the best news of all +is, she expects to get home on Saturday. That's why we're so anxious +about the cooking lessons. We want to take all we possibly can before +she comes, so as to be able to surprise her. I'm afraid I must be going +now, but I'll ask Signora to let us both come again to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Wait one moment; I want to ask you a question. It's about an uncle of +yours. I think you mentioned an uncle the other day, and I have an +idea I know something about him. Would you mind telling me his name?"</p> + +<p>Lill's whole expression changed instantly, and she drew herself up with +an air of haughtiness, which might have amused some people, but which +did not appear to strike Mr. Brown as funny.</p> + +<p>"His name is Mr. George Brooks," she said, "but if you don't mind, I'd +rather not talk about him. Jill thinks Mummy wouldn't like to have us."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't Mummy ever talk about him herself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sometimes, but it always makes her sad, and we don't like to have +her do it. You see, he's her only brother, and she used to love him +very much. Of course it must make her sad to think of him now; he's +such a wicked man."</p> + +<p>"Did she tell you he was a wicked man?" Mr. Brown asked the question +rather sharply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Lill, eagerly. "She wouldn't tell us for the world. She +always says kind things about Uncle George; she doesn't even know we +have any idea how wicked he is."</p> + +<p>"How did you find it out?" There was no evading the direct question, or +the keen, searching glance that accompanied it, and although Lill was +beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable, she felt impelled to answer.</p> + +<p>"We heard an American lady talking about him in the gallery one day," +she said, reluctantly. "She used to know Mummy a long time ago in New +York, and she was talking to another lady. She didn't know we heard +what she said, and we never liked to speak to Mummy about it."</p> + +<p>"What did she say about your uncle? I have a reason for asking, for if +he is the George Brooks I know, I happen to have heard something about +him, too."</p> + +<p>Lill's eyes flashed. For the moment she had quite forgotten Jill's +warning. She remembered nothing but the one dreadful fact, that +somebody had once been unkind to Mummy.</p> + +<p>"She said Mummy used to live with her brother in New York, and he had +a great deal of money, but Mummy only had what he gave her, because +her father had made a queer will, and left everything to his only son. +Mummy wanted to go to Italy and study art, but her brother wouldn't let +her, because he was selfish, and wanted her to stay and keep house for +him. Mummy was very sweet about it, and gave it all up to please him, +but afterwards, when she wanted to marry father, Uncle George was very +angry. He told her if she did it he would never speak to her again, or +let her have any of his money. Of course Mummy married father, because +she loved him better than any one else in the world, and afterwards +when they were very poor, and father was ill, she wrote to Uncle +George, begging him to send them just a little money, but he sent back +her letter without reading it. That lady was in Rome when father died, +and Mummy said she and her husband were very kind to us, but she's paid +back all their money now, and she's so glad, because it made her very +unhappy to owe anybody money. But Uncle George was her own brother; he +ought to have helped her."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he never received the letter—perhaps he was away at the time, +and it was returned without his knowledge." Mr. Brown spoke quietly, +but there was a look of suffering in his eyes, which Lill was too +indignant and excited to notice.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it," she declared stoutly. "He was a very wicked man. +If he hadn't been he would never have told Mummy he wouldn't speak to +her if she married father. Just wait till you see how sweet and dear +she is, and then you'll know nobody but a wicked man could be unkind +to her. Oh, I hate Uncle George—I hate him! I hope I shall never have +to see him as long as I live."</p> + +<p>Lill paused abruptly, rather ashamed of her vehemence, and struck by +something strange in the expression with which Mr. Brown was regarding +her. She blushed crimson, and turned away in sudden embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I'll have to go now," she said, uneasily. "Signora and Jill +won't know what has become of me. Good-bye; I hope you'll like our +<i>gniocchi</i>."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," said Mr. Brown, in a grave, quiet voice, but he did not say +he was sure he should enjoy the <i>gniocchi</i>, nor anything more about her +coming again.</p> + +<p>Lill was feeling decidedly uncomfortable as she closed Mr. Brown's door +behind her, and started on her way upstairs.</p> + +<p>"I wish I hadn't talked about Uncle George," she said to herself. "I +wonder what made me do it. He did ask me, but I needn't have told him +everything. Perhaps Uncle George is a friend of his, and it made him +unhappy to hear such dreadful things about him. I don't believe I'd +better tell Jill." Lill winked back a tear, for she was not accustomed +to keeping things from her twin and she did not like the idea.</p> + +<p>At the top of the second flight she met Jill coming down, with her hat +on.</p> + +<p>"Where in the world are you going?" Lill inquired in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Only to the fruit stall at the corner, for some chestnuts. Signora is +going to show us how to do something with them. You were gone so long +we didn't know what had become of you. Did he like the <i>gniocchi</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—at least I think he did. He wants us to come to see him again. He +says to tell Signora we don't bother him at all."</p> + +<p>"That's nice; did you say we'd come?"</p> + +<p>"I said we would if she'd let us, and I hope she will, for I think he's +very lonely."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sure she will when she knows he wants us," said cheerful Jill, +and she tripped away on her errand, leaving Lill to go back to Signora +Paloni and the cooking lesson.</p> + +<p>It was a glorious winter's afternoon, and as Jill stepped out into the +bright sunshine, and felt the crisp, frosty air in her face, she drew +in a long, deep breath of enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"How good it feels to be out of doors!" she said to herself, as she +hurried along the quiet little street. "I shall be glad when Mummy +comes home, and we can have some walks again."</p> + +<p>Signora Paloni was not much of a walker, and as she did not approve of +the twins going further than the corner of the street by themselves, +they had naturally been confined to the house more than they liked +since Mummy went away. She had taken them to market once or twice, and +on Sunday they had gone again to high mass at The Duomo, and afterwards +walked across the <i>Ponte Vecchio</i>—the long bridge over the Arno, which +is lined with gay shops—but when Mummy was at home, she generally +tried to give the children some exercise on pleasant days, and there +were few parts of the beautiful old city in which they could not have +found their way. Sometimes they would even walk as far as San Miniato, +and looking down from the height, would watch the sun set over the +city, coming home tired and hungry, but all the better for their long +walk.</p> + +<p>It was too pleasant to hurry, and so, after the first few yards, Jill +slackened her pace to a leisurely walk.</p> + +<p>"I wish it was a little further," she reflected regretfully. "If I +crawled every step of the way, I couldn't make it last more than ten +minutes. Why, what in the world are all those people looking at?"</p> + +<p>Instinctively she quickened her steps, anxious to learn the reason why +a crowd of people should be gathered in front of the little fruit and +vegetable stall, from which Mummy and Signora Paloni procured most of +their simple wants. The crowd consisted of both men and women, and they +were all talking and gesticulating in a most excited manner. As she +drew nearer Jill saw that one of the men had an open newspaper, from +which he appeared to be reading aloud, and that several women were +crying and wringing their hands. Jill's heart began to beat very fast, +and almost without knowing it, she started on a run.</p> + +<p>"What has happened?" she demanded eagerly of the first person she met, +a boy with a parcel under his arm.</p> + +<p>The boy shouted something about "the earthquake," and ran on without +stopping.</p> + +<p>"What earthquake—where is it?" cried Jill, but the boy was already +half way down the street, and did not seem to hear.</p> + +<p>In two minutes she had reached the corner, and pushed her way through +the excited, chattering crowd to the door of the little shop.</p> + +<p>The shop-keeper—a rosy-cheeked young woman, who had known the twins +for years—was crying, with her apron before her face. Jill went up to +her, and touched her on the arm.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" she asked, tremulously. "Has there really been an +earthquake, and where was it?"</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt="" id="illus3"> + <div class="caption"> + <p>"<span class="smcap">Has there really been an earthquake, and where was it?</span>"</p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>"Oh, Signorina," cried the woman, with a fresh burst of tears, "it is +too terrible—too terrible! There has been a dreadful earthquake in +Sicily, and—"</p> + +<p>"Sicily!" shrieked Jill, all the color going out of her face. "Oh, no, +it isn't Sicily, it can't be! Please say it isn't, quick!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sicily," repeated the woman, mournfully, and another bystander, +anxious to impart the thrilling news, chimed in. "They say it is the +worst earthquake ever known in Italy. The whole country is devastated, +the town of Messina is in ruins, and every man, woman and child in the +place is dead."</p> + +<p>For one awful moment everything grew black before Jill's eyes, and the +figures and the faces seemed to fade away into dim distance. Then, +with a quick, gasping sob of terror, she turned, and ran with flying +feet back in the direction of home. It was not true, of course, she +told herself, such a horrible thing could not be true; it was all some +dreadful mistake! But she could not stay there, and listen to those +cruel people. She must get back to Signora Paloni and Lill; they would +take care of her, and convince her she had not heard the words aright. +Sicily, Messina! every one dead! No, no, it was not true, of course, +but, oh, to be at home! To have somebody tell her it was all a mistake!</p> + +<p>Mr. Brown was still sitting where Lill had left him, staring moodily +into the fire, when the door opened, and his man—who had gone out for +a few minutes—came in with a newspaper in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Shut the door, Fratini," said Mr. Brown, irritably; "I don't like that +draught. Why, man alive, what on earth is the matter? You look as if +you had seen a ghost."</p> + +<p>But Fratini did not answer. Neither did he close the door. On the +contrary, he stood leaning against it, as if for support. His face was +very white, and he was trembling violently. Mr. Brown repeated his +question.</p> + +<p>"In Heaven's name, what is the matter with you?" In his astonishment he +half rose from his chair, but sank back again, admonished by a sharp +twinge of pain in his knee.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Signor," faltered Fratini, in his broken English, "I do beg ten +thousand pardons, but this terrible news—"</p> + +<p>"What terrible news? Speak out, can't you? And don't stand there +staring like an idiot."</p> + +<p>"The terrible earthquake in Sicily—the Signor has not heard? Thousands +of people have perished, they say, and the whole town of Messina—"</p> + +<p>"Earthquake in Messina! What nonsense are you talking? Here, give me +that paper, and let me see for myself. Confound it, the thing's in +Italian!"</p> + +<p>"Go and get me an English newspaper as quick as you can, or stay, wait +a minute; read me what this one says. You can translate as you go +along."</p> + +<p>Fratini began to read, pausing at the end of every sentence to +translate it into English, and in his horror and excitement, making +even more mistakes than usual. But even in Fratini's broken English +the account was terrible enough to drive the color from Mr. Brown's +face as he listened; A look of horror came into his eyes, and several +times he made an effort to spring out of his seat, only to sink back +again, with a scarcely suppressed groan of pain. In the excitement of +the moment, Fratini had forgotten to close the door, and he was in the +midst of the most frightful details when a slight sound behind them +caused both men to turn, and there, standing in the doorway, supporting +herself against the wall, stood Jill, her face like marble, her eyes +filled by a great, nameless terror.</p> + +<p>With an exclamation of dismay, Fratini dropped the paper, and hurried +forward.</p> + +<p>"Signorina," he cried pityingly, "Oh the pauvera Signorina!"</p> + +<p>But Jill did not seem to hear him. There was something in Mr. Brown's +face which terrified her more even than the dreadful news in the street +had done. Twice she moved her lips, in a vain effort to speak, and then +with a low cry, she darted forward, and almost fell at Mr. Brown's feet.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it isn't true—say it isn't true!" she cried, despairingly. "Oh, +Mummy, Mummy!" And she broke into a wild paroxysm of sobs.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brown raised her gently, and drew her down on the arm of his chair. +With a great effort, he controlled his own agitation sufficiently to +speak calmly.</p> + +<p>"My poor little girl," he said, soothingly, "I am so sorry you have +heard this distressing story, but you must not let it trouble you +so much, indeed you must not. Such things are always frightfully +exaggerated at first."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't think it's true?" cried Jill, catching eagerly at the +first ray of hope. "The people in the street said it was true, but it +can't be—it's too terrible."</p> + +<p>"I think the report is doubtless greatly exaggerated," said Mr. Brown, +gently. "How much truth there may be in it I cannot tell. We must try +to wait patiently for more details."</p> + +<p>"They said it was Messina," faltered Jill; "Mummy is in Messina."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brown said nothing, but the look of suffering deepened on his face, +and he drew Jill a little closer, as if to shield her from something. +There was a pause. Fratini had picked up the paper, but he made no +effort to go on reading, and stood looking at Jill, with a great pity +in his eyes. At last Jill spoke, in a low, trembling little voice.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to do about Lill," she said. "Do you think we'll +have to tell her?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid it would be difficult to keep from her the news that there +has been an earthquake in Sicily, but we can make as light of it as +possible. Why do you object to her knowing?"</p> + +<p>"It's on account of her heart," said Jill, with a sob. "It isn't very +strong, and the doctor told Mummy she must never be frightened or +worried about things. She is much better than she used to be, but Mummy +told me she shouldn't like Lill ever to have a shock of any kind."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brown looked very grave.</p> + +<p>"Do you think you can manage to break the news to her so it won't be a +great shock?" he asked, anxiously.</p> + +<p>Jill was silent for a moment while her whole body shook with sobs. Mr. +Brown drew the little girl very close, and gently stroked her hair.</p> + +<p>"Poor little Jill," he murmured softly, "poor little Jill!"</p> + +<p>Then, with a mighty effort, Jill stifled her sobs, and slipped an icy +little hand into his.</p> + +<p>"I'll try," she said steadily; "I won't let Lill be any more frightened +than I can possibly help."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brown bent and kissed her.</p> + +<p>"That's my brave little girl," he said huskily. "Now run upstairs +before Lill has a chance of hearing the news in any other way, and tell +Signora Paloni I want to speak to her at once."</p> + +<p>Signora Paloni and Lill were growing decidedly impatient.</p> + +<p>"What can be detaining her so long?" fumed the signora. "It is wrong of +her to linger so. I would never have let her go if I had thought she +would stay so long."</p> + +<p>"It's a beautiful afternoon," said Lill, apologetically, "and we +haven't either of us been out all day. Please don't be cross, Signora; +I'm sure she'll be back in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to be cross, but I have work to do, and do not choose +to wait about all the afternoon for a naughty little girl who loiters +when sent on an errand. It will soon be time to go and see about my +husband's dinner."</p> + +<p>"Here she is," exclaimed Lill, in a tone of relief, as the door opened. +"Why, Jill, what has kept you so long?"</p> + +<p>Jill was very pale, and her lips twitched nervously, but her voice was +calm as she answered quietly—</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry I kept you waiting, but I couldn't help it. I stopped to +speak to Mr. Brown. Signora, Mr. Brown wants to see you at once, +please."</p> + +<p>"Now, what in the world can he want with me at this hour?" grumbled the +Signora as she left the room. "I will be back directly, children, and +in the meantime you can be opening the chestnuts."</p> + +<p>"Why, where are the chestnuts?" inquired Lill, regarding her sister in +astonishment. "Jill, I do believe you never got them after all."</p> + +<p>Jill made an effort to smile, but only succeeded in checking a rising +sob.</p> + +<p>"I forgot all about the chestnuts," she said. "A boy said something +that frightened me, and I ran all the way home, but Mr. Brown says it's +nothing to be frightened about."</p> + +<p>"What was it?" inquired Lill, looking a little worried.</p> + +<p>Jill turned away abruptly, and went to the closet to hang up her jacket.</p> + +<p>"Why," she said in a voice that surprised herself by its calmness, +"they say there was a little earthquake somewhere in Sicily. I don't +suppose it was very bad, but when I heard people say earthquake and +Sicily, of course I thought of Mummy, and I ran right home without +stopping to get the chestnuts. I stopped in Mr. Brown's room to tell +him about it, and he says it's probably dreadfully exaggerated. Now, +Lill dear, don't begin to cry like that. It's so silly when we don't +even know there really was any earthquake at all."</p> + +<p>"But if there really was one," sobbed Lill, "and if Mummy was in it, +she must have been so dreadfully frightened. I don't like to think of +Mummy's being frightened when she went away to have a good time."</p> + +<p>But though Lill cried, Jill saw, with a sensation of intense relief, +there were no signs of the blue lines about her lips, which she knew +her mother always dreaded to see. At least Lill had been spared the +shock of hearing the terrible news as she herself had heard it.</p> + +<p>"How glad I am Signora sent me for the chestnuts instead of her!" she +said to herself. And then, with a sudden irresistible longing for love +and sympathy, she threw her arms round her sister's neck and hugged +her.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_Va">CHAPTER V</h2> +</div> + + +<p>"Are you awake, Jill?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Jill, lifting her head from the pillow with a start, and +speaking in a rather choked voice.</p> + +<p>Lill sighed.</p> + +<p>"I can't get to sleep," she said, mournfully, "I'm trying hard, because +I promised Mr. Brown, but it isn't any use. Do you suppose they've +heard anything since we went to bed?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure they haven't," said Jill, with decision. "Signora promised +to come and tell us the minute the telegram came. I do wish you would +go to sleep, Lill. I'm so afraid you will be ill if you don't, and it +would be dreadful to have you ill when Mummy comes home."</p> + +<p>Lill began to cry softly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jill, do you think she ever will come home?" she sobbed. "It's all +so dreadful, and I'm so frightened."</p> + +<p>"Of course she will," said Jill, in a voice that sounded almost angry +in her effort not to break into a sob. "You know what Mr. Brown said +about all the telegraph wires being down. It must make Mummy dreadfully +unhappy not to be able to send us any news, but she'll come home the +very first minute she can."</p> + +<p>"But so many people were killed," faltered Lill. "How do you know that +Mummy—"</p> + +<p>"God wouldn't be so cruel as to let anything terrible happen to our +precious Mummy," Jill interrupted sharply. "She's all we have in the +world."</p> + +<p>"God let father die," said Lill, mournfully, "and He let Uncle George +be unkind to Mummy. Jill, do you suppose Uncle George would be sorry if +he knew about her being in Sicily?"</p> + +<p>"Of course he would," said Jill, with decision. "She's his own sister, +and he used to love her very much when she was a little girl."</p> + +<p>"I wish he did know," cried Lill, with sudden vehemence. "I wish +something dreadful would happen to him—something that would make him +just as miserable and unhappy as we are now. Oh, Mummy, Mummy! To think +of any one's ever being unkind to you!" And Lill burst into wild, +uncontrollable sobs.</p> + +<p>Three days had passed since the first news of the terrible earthquake +had reached Florence; three long, terrible, interminable days. Every +hour the news of the awful catastrophe grew more and more alarming. All +over the civilized world newspapers were ringing with the frightful +details, and in Italy people seemed almost paralyzed by the shock. +Already the king had started for the scene of the calamity, and the +brave young queen had accompanied him, ready and anxious to offer her +personal assistance to the wounded and the homeless. At the Palonis' +the news had been at first received with incredulous amazement, then +with ever-increasing horror and belief. Signora Paloni cried all day +long, and went to the Duomo to pray whenever she could leave the house, +and her husband went about with a look on his jolly, good-humored face +that no one had ever seen there before. It had not been possible to +keep Lill long in ignorance of at least some of the terrible details. +Jill had saved her the first great shock, but grief and anxiety were +rapidly telling on her never strong constitution, and Signora Paloni +and Jill watched her in hourly increasing terror. There was only one +person in the house who appeared to have any influence over the poor +child, and that person, strange to say, was the lodger, Mr. Brown. Lill +had only known Mr. Brown for a few days, but she had taken an odd +fancy to him from the first, and now as the terrible days dragged on, +bringing no news from the absent mother, she grew to lean upon him, and +cling to him in a kind of despair, as if he, of all the world, were the +only one who could help them in their awful anxiety.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what makes me feel that way about him," she told Jill, +when her sister questioned her on the subject, "but he seems so strong, +and—and I feel almost sure he is just as unhappy as we are."</p> + +<p>"But he can't be," reasoned Jill. "He never even saw Mummy. He's sorry +for us, of course—everybody is sorry—and it was lovely of him to send +Fratini to Sicily to try to find out something, but he can't possibly +care as much as Signora or Miss Dexter."</p> + +<p>But Lill was not convinced.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why he cares, but I'm sure he does," she maintained, and +Jill, feeling it useless to argue the subject any further, was silent.</p> + +<p>And now it was the last night of the old year. In two hours more the +new year would begin—a sad new year for many in Italy, whose friends +or relatives had perished in the terrible earthquake. The twins had +almost forgotten that it was New Year's Eve, but as Jill lay listening +to her sister's sobs, trying hard to keep her own grief from having its +way, she suddenly remembered, and the recollection added a new pang to +her sorrow.</p> + +<p>"Lill dear," she said, softly, "do you remember what night it is?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Lill, drearily.</p> + +<p>"It's New Year's Eve; don't you remember what a good time we had last +year?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do. Mummy let us sit up to see the old year out, and we made +taffy, and she read Dickens' 'Christmas Carol' to us."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and we made good resolutions for the new year. Don't you think +Mummy would be pleased if we made some good resolutions to-night? We +could tell her about them when she comes home."</p> + +<p>But Lill was not comforted; her sobs were becoming more and more +violent every moment. Jill was at her wits' end. The night before +Lill had cried herself into a state of hysteria, which had frightened +Signora Paloni very much. At the request of Mr. Brown, a doctor had +been summoned, who had given the child a powder to quiet her nerves, +and gone away looking rather grave.</p> + +<p>"Lill dear, don't cry so, please don't," pleaded Jill, clasping her +hands in despair. "You'll be ill, and then Mummy will be so worried +and unhappy. Don't you want to be happy when she comes back from that +dreadful Sicily?"</p> + +<p>"She isn't coming back—she'll never come back!" wailed Lill. "She's +dead, I know she's dead! Oh, Mummy, Mummy!"</p> + +<p>Jill sprang out of bed; she was almost beside herself with terror and +distress.</p> + +<p>"You've got to stop that, Lill," she cried; "I tell you you've got to! +I'm going down to call Signora."</p> + +<p>"No, don't, don't, please don't! First she'll scold, and then she'll +cry and wring her hands, the way she always does. She isn't any use. I +want somebody strong, who doesn't cry and make a fuss—somebody like +Mr. Brown."</p> + +<p>"Very well, let's go down to Mr. Brown then," said Jill, desperately. +"It's only just ten; I don't believe he's gone to bed yet. I'll get +your clothes. Never mind about putting everything on; your wrapper and +slippers will be enough. We'll only stay a few minutes, and when we +come back you'll go right to sleep, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"I'll try," promised Lill, humbly. "But won't Signora be very angry if +we go down to Mr. Brown?"</p> + +<p>"I can't help it if she is," said Jill, thrusting her sister's arms +into her wrapper sleeves, for Lill seemed almost too weak and dazed to +do anything for herself. "I only know I can't let you go on crying this +way, and if you think Mr. Brown can make you stop, why, we've got to go +and see him, that's all."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brown was alone in his sitting-room. He had been there for hours, +scarcely moving, and always gazing into the fire with dim, unseeing +eyes. His knee was better, but he was still confined to his room, and +the awful inaction of the past three days had caused him to look years +older than when the twins had made him their first visit on Christmas +afternoon. Twice he had risen, startled by some fancied sound in the +street, and limping painfully to the window, had thrown it open, and +leaned out listening. But everything was quiet, and in a few moments +he had closed his window again, and gone back to his seat by the fire. +Tessa, who now attended to all the lodger's wants, had brought him his +supper, but he had bidden her take it away again, intimating by signs +that he was not hungry, and wished to be left alone.</p> + +<p>A distant church clock struck ten. Mr. Brown counted the stroke and +heaved a deep sigh. Another day gone, and still no news—no lessening +of this awful suspense. A few minutes later there was a timid knock +at the door, the handle was gently turned, and Mr. Brown turned in +astonishment to see two little figures dressed just alike in blue +flannel wrappers, with pig-tails hanging down their backs, come into +the room.</p> + +<p>Lill ran to him, with a sob, and without uttering a word, he gathered +the trembling child in his arms.</p> + +<p>"I had to bring her," Jill explained apologetically. "She wouldn't go +to sleep, and I was afraid she would cry herself ill again. She said +she wanted somebody strong like you."</p> + +<p>"May we stay a little while?" whispered Lill, letting her head rest +wearily on her friend's shoulder. "You are so big and strong; I don't +feel half so frightened when I am with you."</p> + +<p>"You may stay just as long as you like," Mr. Brown said, his arms +tightening about the little figure as he spoke. "Poor little Lill; it +is very hard to be patient, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, so hard!" answered Lill, with a catch in her voice. "I wish I +could be brave like Jill, but I get so terribly frightened when I +think about the earthquake, and that Mummy may never come home." A +shivering sob finished the sentence.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brown said nothing, but held the little girl close in his strong +arms, and in a little while the nervous trembling began to subside, +and at last ceased altogether. Jill—who had been watching her sister +anxiously—looked relieved, and Mr. Brown smiled at her reassuringly, +and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Come here, Jill," he said, and Jill came and knelt on the hearth rug, +and Mr. Brown stroked her hair gently. They were all silent for a few +minutes; then Lill spoke.</p> + +<p>"I feel ever so much better," she said, softly. "I wonder why you +always make me feel better. You never cry or make a fuss like Signora. +Jill says you can't possibly care about Mummy, because you've never +seen her, but I'm sure you do care very much."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do, little girl; I care far more than you dream. This is a +terrible time for us all, but we must try to be patient and hope for +the best. We ought surely to have some word from Fratini to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"And from Mummy, too," said Jill. "I know Mummy will send us some news +just as soon as she possibly can. She knows how worried we are."</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure she will," said Mr. Brown in a tone of forced +cheerfulness, and then they were all silent again until Lill remarked +wonderingly—</p> + +<p>"I've been trying to think why you should care about Mummy when you've +never seen her. I suppose it must be because you're sorry for us. You +must have been very unhappy when your little Lilian was drowned, and +that makes you more sorry for other unhappy people."</p> + +<p>Jill looked uncomfortable, and gave her sister a warning glance, but +Lill went on without heeding it.</p> + +<p>"You must have loved your little Lilian very much, or you wouldn't have +liked me right away, just because my name happened to be Lilian, too."</p> + +<p>"I did indeed," said Mr. Brown in a very low voice.</p> + +<p>"And when you heard about her being drowned, it must have been just as +much of a shock as it was to Jill when she heard about the earthquake. +Do you like talking about Lilian?"</p> + +<p>"I have not talked to many people about her, but I should not mind +talking to you if you would care to hear."</p> + +<p>Lill was much impressed, and Jill laid a kind little hand on Mr. +Brown's knee.</p> + +<p>"Was she pretty?" she asked softly.</p> + +<p>"We thought her very pretty. She had big blue eyes, and long yellow +curls, and she was a bright little girl for her age. Her mother and I +were very proud of her."</p> + +<p>"Her mother," repeated Jill, with a sudden recollection. "Oh, I +remember; her mother was drowned, too."</p> + +<p>Lill felt the arms that held her tremble slightly, but Mr. Brown's +voice was quite calm when he answered, though the look of suffering had +deepened on his face.</p> + +<p>"It was a bathing accident," he said. "We had a cottage at the +seashore, not far from New York. I was obliged to go to town every day, +to attend to business, and my wife and little girl used to drive me to +the station. They drove me as usual that last morning, and Lilian asked +me to bring her home a particular story-book she wanted. I promised +to get the book if I did not forget, and as the train was moving out +of the station, I heard her little voice calling to me from the pony +carriage; 'Don't forget, Daddy, be sure you don't forget.' I turned +for one last look, and they both smiled and nodded to me. Lilian kissed +her hand. I never saw either my wife or my little girl again."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" gasped Lill, and she suddenly drew Mr. Brown's face down and +kissed him.</p> + +<p>"I think we know now why you are so sorry for us," said Jill, softly. +"Would you mind telling us what happened?"</p> + +<p>"They went bathing in the surf as they had often done before. My wife +was a good swimmer, and she had taught Lilian to swim a little, too. +They were both very fond of it. The sea was high that day, and there +was a strong undertow. Nobody knows just what happened, but they think +Lilian swam out too far, and her mother tried to save her. They were +both drowned before help came."</p> + +<p>"How terrible!" said Jill in a shocked voice. "I shouldn't think you +would ever want to see the sea again. I wish we could do something for +you to show how sorry we are."</p> + +<p>"You are showing me that without doing anything at all," said Mr. +Brown, kindly. "There, there, Lill, don't cry so; I shall be sorry I +told you about my little girl if it makes you so unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it isn't that," said Lill, choking back her sobs. "It was good of +you to tell us, and I loved hearing it, only—only there are so many +unhappy people in the world."</p> + +<p>"But there are a great many happy people in the world as well as +unhappy ones," said Mr. Brown, soothingly. "Why think so much about the +sad things?"</p> + +<p>"Do you really think there are?" asked Lill, somewhat comforted by +this assurance. "Everybody seems so unhappy here now. I said something +wicked to Jill upstairs, and I wish I hadn't—oh, I do wish I hadn't!"</p> + +<p>"What did you say?" Mr. Brown inquired, with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>"It was about Uncle George. I said I wished he knew about Mummy's being +in Sicily, and that it would make him very unhappy. I thought I wanted +him to be unhappy, because he was once unkind to Mummy, but it was a +wicked thing to say. I don't really want any one in the world to be +unhappy, not even Uncle George."</p> + +<p>"Not even Uncle George," repeated Mr. Brown sadly. "Don't you think +that you may be just a little hard on this uncle of yours? You may not +know all the circumstances."</p> + +<p>"I know he was unkind to Mummy," said Lill, and there was a suspicion +of the old obstinacy in her tone.</p> + +<p>"But suppose your uncle never received the letter your mother wrote +him asking for help? Suppose he had no idea that she was poor and in +trouble—did not even know her husband was dead. Would you hate him +quite so much if you knew that?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't suppose I should," Lill admitted. "If he never got Mummy's +letter, and didn't know about father—but then he was very unkind to +Mummy before."</p> + +<p>"He may have been very sorry for that. I happen to know George Brooks +very well, and I am sure he never received that last letter."</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried Jill, her face lighting up with sudden hope, "do you think +he would help Mummy now if he knew how poor she was, and how hard she +worked?"</p> + +<p>"I know he would. I know he would gladly share everything he has in the +world with her, if only for the sake of gaining her forgiveness. He +would have tried to find her long ago, but they were both very proud, +and they had quarrelled. He was afraid she might not care to see him."</p> + +<p>"But she would, I know she would!" cried Jill, eagerly. "She used to +love him very dearly. She often talks to us about the time when she was +a little girl and she and Uncle George were everything to each other, +just as Lill and I are now. It makes her sad to talk about it, but she +likes to just the same. Is Uncle George a—a nice man?"</p> + +<p>"He has been a hard man, I am afraid," said Mr. Brown, with a sigh, +"but a great sorrow has come into his life, and I think he is less hard +now than he used to be. What's the matter, Lill?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry I said I hated Uncle George," said Lill, remorsefully, +burying her face on Mr. Brown's shoulder. "It was unkind, and I don't +like to be unkind."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, little girl; don't think about it any more. Your uncle +won't bear you any malice, you may be sure of that. He has far too +many unkind acts of his own to account for without blaming a little +girl, who only hated him because she thought he had been unkind to her +mother."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what we'll do," exclaimed Jill, with a sudden +inspiration. "It's New Year's Eve, and we always make good resolutions +for the new year. Let's resolve never to judge people until we are +perfectly sure we know all about them."</p> + +<p>"But you won't need to make that resolution," said Lill, loyally, +"because you never do say unkind things about anybody—not even about +Uncle George."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, perhaps I think them just the same," said Jill, blushing. +"Let's make the resolution anyway. It will seem more like New Year's +Eve if we make resolutions. Shall you write to Uncle George about +Mummy, Mr. Brown?"</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly speak to your mother on the subject as soon as she +comes home," said Mr. Brown, and then they were all silent again, for +the same dreadful thought was in all their minds; suppose Mummy never +came home. At last Jill rose reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"I think we had better go now, Lill," she said. "It's getting late, and +Mr. Brown will want to go to bed."</p> + +<p>"I am in no hurry," said Mr. Brown, and he looked almost as if he would +be sorry to have them go. "Stay as long as you like."</p> + +<p>But Jill still looked doubtful.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid Signora Paloni wouldn't like to have us stay any longer," +she said. "She always comes up to see us before she goes to bed, and if +she doesn't find us she will be frightened."</p> + +<p>"Bother Signora Paloni!" said Mr. Brown, impatiently. "We will hear her +when she comes up, and I will explain matters to her. We'll see the old +year out and the new one in—that is if you don't get sleepy in the +meantime."</p> + +<p>So the children stayed, and when Signora Paloni came up a little +later, Mr. Brown called her in, and made her understand in his halting +Italian, that he wished to keep the twins with him a little longer. +And, somewhat to Jill's surprise, the Signora—whose eyes were red +from crying—made no objection, but merely nodded her head, and crept +quietly away again. It was very still for a long time after that. Lill +fell into a doze, with her head on Mr. Brown's shoulder, but Jill sat +with wide-open eyes, gazing into the fire, and pondering many things.</p> + +<p>At last the stillness was broken by the sound of wheels in the quiet +street. Lill was wide awake in a moment.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she demanded, sitting up, and staring about the strange +room in a bewildered way.</p> + +<p>"Only a carriage passing," said Mr. Brown.</p> + +<p>"It's stopping here," cried Jill, and she was on her feet and half way +to the door before she had finished her sentence. Lill tried to rise, +too, but she trembled so much that Mr. Brown put his arm round her, +saying reassuringly—</p> + +<p>"It is nothing, dear, nothing; probably the carriage has stopped next +door."</p> + +<p>A loud ring at the door-bell cut him short, and next moment Lill +had darted away into the hall, after Jill, who was already half way +downstairs. Mr. Brown grew very pale, and sank back in his chair.</p> + +<p>"It is Fratini's telegram," he murmured. "Thank God for any news; +anything is better than this frightful suspense."</p> + +<p>But it was not Fratini's telegram. Jill had the door open before the +Palonis could reach it, and then there was a wild, joyful cry of +"Mummy! Mummy!" and after that nothing but a confused hubbub, in which +everybody seemed to be talking, and crying, and kissing all at once.</p> + +<p>It was nearly half an hour later when Mummy and the twins came upstairs +together. Mummy was very tired—almost exhausted, in fact—but her +eyes were shining with the light of a great thankfulness, and she had +an arm round each little girl. She had not been at Messina, owing to +the slight illness of one of the girls she was chaperoning, which had +detained the party at Palermo longer than they had originally intended, +but they had been through enough trying and painful experiences to give +them the horrors whenever they recalled that time for years to come. It +had not been possible to telegraph the news of their safety to anxious +friends at home, as all the lines were down, but they had left Sicily +on the first available boat, and hurried back to Florence as fast as +the Naples express could bring them.</p> + +<p>Outside Mr. Brown's door the twins paused.</p> + +<p>"Let's go in and speak to him," said Jill. "He'll be so interested to +hear all about it. He has been so good to us, Mummy dear; he even sent +his man all the way to Sicily to try to find you."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I want to thank him," said Mummy, eagerly, and in her quick, +impulsive way, she hurried through the open door, straight into Mr. +Brown's sitting-room.</p> + +<p>"It's Mummy!" cried Lill, joyfully, running to her friend's side. +"She wasn't in that dreadful Messina at all, only in Palermo, and the +earthquake wasn't nearly so bad there. Oh, isn't it glorious to have +her back again, and in time for the new year, too?"</p> + +<p>"I want to thank you for your great kindness to my little girls," began +Mummy, then stopped short, and stood staring in blank astonishment at +Mr. Brown, while all the color went out of her face.</p> + +<p>"Kitty," he said, in a low, unsteady voice, "thank God you are safe. It +has been a terrible time of suspense for us all."</p> + +<p>"George!" gasped Mummy, her face lighting up with a new and sudden joy, +"oh, George dear, this is the best of all, but I never knew—I never +dreamed—"</p> + +<p>"Of course you didn't," said Mr. Brown, smiling, though there were +tears in his eyes. "These little people didn't dream either, but we +have settled several things to-night; among others that it isn't +wise to judge people until we know all the circumstances in the case. +I came to Florence three weeks ago, and in a chance meeting with these +two little girls learned some things I had never known before. I +engaged this apartment, under an assumed name, and moved in here a few +days later. I wanted to see for myself how things were with you, and +feared to come forward openly at first, in case the old pride should +stand in the way of your telling me all I wanted to know. Unfortunately +I met with an accident the very day after my arrival, which delayed +matters considerably, and the next news I heard was that you had gone +to Sicily. These dear little twins of yours took pity on a lonely +invalid, and brought him a Christmas present. We made friends, and then +came the terrible news of the earthquake. God alone knows what these +three awful days have been to me. Kitty, for the sake of our mother, +and our own happy childhood, say you forgive me."</p> + +<p>"Forgive you?" cried Mummy, between laughing and crying, "why, George +dear, there isn't anything to forgive, and if there ever was I forgave +it long, long ago." And to the utter amazement of the twins, Mummy went +straight into Mr. Brown's outstretched arms, and kissed him.</p> + +<p>"And to think," cried Lill five minutes later, "to think you were Uncle +George all the time, and I said I hated you."</p> + +<p>"Well, you don't hate me any more, you know," said Uncle George, +smiling, and he drew Lill to him, and kissed her tenderly.</p> + +<p>"She is the very image of my little Lilian, Kitty," he said, +tremulously. "I think I loved her from the first moment I saw her, +and yet the very first opinion I heard her express was that uncles in +general were wicked."</p> + +<p>"But I don't think so any more," said Lill, blushing. "Oh, Uncle +George, I think you must be the best man in the world not to be angry +with me for saying such dreadful things, and I love you better than +anybody except Mummy and Jill."</p> + +<p>"Hark!" cried Jill, "there are the bells; they are ringing in the +new year, and the church clock is striking twelve. Happy New Year, +everybody."</p> + +<p>"Happy New Year! Happy New Year!" echoed Uncle George and Lill, and +Mummy added softly, with the tears shining in her eyes—</p> + +<p>"It is a glad new year for us, but don't let us forget the thousands of +homes rendered desolate by this frightful calamity. God has been very +good to us, and we must be very grateful for our blessings."</p> + +<p>"We have been making good resolutions, Mummy," said Lill. "Mine is to +try not to be unjust and say things about people until I know all their +reasons. What's yours, Jill?"</p> + +<p>"To try to like lessons better, and not give Mummy so much trouble," +said Jill. "Have you made one, Mummy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, darling, and it is to try to have more faith and to believe that +God knows what is best for us, even when things seem darkest."</p> + +<p>"I have made a resolution, too," said Uncle George. "It is to try to +make three dear people as happy as I can. I have a good deal more +money than I care to spend on myself, and now that my dear wife and +little girl aren't here any longer, I want to share it with the three +people I care most for in the world. Will you help me to carry out my +resolution, Kitty?"</p> + +<p>Mummy didn't answer in words, but she slipped her hand into her +brother's, and the smile she gave him, though a little tremulous, was +very bright and loving.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="HOW_REGGIE_SAW_THE_SPHINX">HOW REGGIE SAW THE SPHINX</h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_Ib">CHAPTER I</h2> +</div> + + +<p>The Cunard steamer, <i>Caronia</i>, had left Naples, and was making her way +through a high sea, across the Mediterranean to Alexandria. It was very +rough, and before they had left Naples harbor far behind, most of the +passengers who were not proof against seasickness had retired to their +cabins. Reggie's mother, who was a very poor sailor indeed, had been +one of the first ladies to disappear from the deck, and she had been +speedily followed by Reggie's nurse, Ellen. Reggie himself had never +felt better in his life, but he had really tried to be sympathetic.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you can't help it," he remarked in a puzzled tone, as he +stood in the doorway of the cabin he shared with Ellen, and regarded +the maid, who lay prone upon her bed, the picture of misery and +despair. "It does seem very queer, though; I can't see what makes +people feel that way."</p> + +<p>A groan was the only response he received.</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess I'll go and see if I can find Daddy," Reggie went on. +"Perhaps he'll let me stay with him on deck. It's very stuffy down +here."</p> + +<p>Ellen opened her eyes and raised her head from the pillow.</p> + +<p>"Don't you go wandering off by yourself, Master Reggie," she +admonished; "you'll be falling overboard or something dreadful'll +happen to you if you do. O my goodness, this is awful! I shall be dead +before we get to Egypt, that's sure."</p> + +<p>"You do say very silly things, Ellen," remarked Reggie, rather +scornfully. "You know perfectly well you won't be dead when we get to +Egypt. Daddy says people never die of seasickness. You said just the +same thing when we were coming over from America, and when we got to +Rome you said you were so glad you'd come because now you could die +happy, because you'd seen the Pope. I don't see why people are always +saying things they don't mean."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do try and keep still, there's a good little boy! I can't talk; my +head's just ready to burst."</p> + +<p>Reggie sighed. It struck him that nurses were tiresome persons, and +that Ellen in particular was very slow of comprehension.</p> + +<p>"But I don't like it down here," he argued. "It isn't nice; it's +stuffy. I want to go on deck with Daddy."</p> + +<p>"Well, go and ask your mother, then, but I know she won't let you."</p> + +<p>Reggie waited for no second bidding, but darted across the passage to +the cabin occupied by his parents. There he found his mother also lying +upon her bed, and also looking very miserable.</p> + +<p>"Mother," he began eagerly, "may I go on deck and look for Daddy?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Starr opened her eyes with a faint moan. "Reggie darling, I don't +like to have you running about this ship by yourself. Can't Ellen look +after you?"</p> + +<p>"Sick," said Reggie shortly.</p> + +<p>"O dear, is she sick, too, poor thing? It really is frightfully rough. +Can't you manage to keep still for a little while? Your father will be +coming down before long, and I will ask him to look after you."</p> + +<p>"But I've been still for a very long time. I've looked at all the +pictures in that book Grandma sent me, and I've played three games of +'old maid' all by myself."</p> + +<p>"Will you promise to come back in five minutes unless you find your +father, and will you be very, very careful not to get into any mischief +if I let you go?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, I won't get into any mischief. I'm eight, and Daddy says a +boy of eight ought to be able to take care of himself."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Starr smiled faintly in spite of her suffering.</p> + +<p>"Well, be sure you do take care of yourself, then," she said. "Don't +lean over the railing or go near the machinery, or—" But at that +moment the ship rose on the crest of a big wave and came down again +with a sickening lurch and Mrs. Starr's sentence ended in a groan.</p> + +<p>Reggie gave the required promise and without waiting for any further +directions sped away in search of his cap and warm coat. Five minutes +later he was climbing the stairs that led to the promenade deck.</p> + +<p>It was very beautiful on deck, or at least so it seemed to Reggie. +The sea was very high, and the wind was blowing a stiff gale, but the +afternoon sun was shining brightly, and the great waves seemed to +dance and sparkle beneath its rays. A few ladies were lying back in +steamer chairs but there were not many people about, and Reggie had +no difficulty in discovering his father, standing by the door of the +smoking-room, talking to another gentleman. Reggie was very fond of his +father; he was such a very pleasant person and he never fussed about +wet feet or warm flannels, as his mother and Ellen were apt to do. At +sight of his little son, Mr. Starr smiled and remarked cheerfully—</p> + +<p>"Hello, young shaver! feeling pretty fit, eh?"</p> + +<p>Reggie liked being called "young shaver," it sounded like something +manly and he promptly thrust his hands into his pockets and assumed his +most grown-up air.</p> + +<p>"I'm all right," he responded, jauntily; "Mother and Ellen aren't, +though."</p> + +<p>"Poor things! I think I had better go and have a look at your mother."</p> + +<p>"She doesn't want anything. She only wants to be left alone, and so +does Ellen. Mother said I might come up here and look for you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she did, did she? I suppose that means that I must give up my game +of bridge, and look after you for the next hour."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, that's too bad!" exclaimed the other gentleman, a +broad-shouldered young Englishman, with sandy hair and mustache. "We +want you to make up our table. Can't the kiddie take care of himself +for a bit?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Starr glanced doubtfully at Reggie.</p> + +<p>"Can I trust you to keep out of mischief if I leave you to yourself for +half an hour?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said Reggie, returning his father's questioning glance, +with steady brown eyes.</p> + +<p>"Honor bright?"</p> + +<p>"Honor bright," repeated the little boy, and Mr. Starr was satisfied.</p> + +<p>"Very well," he said. "You may stay here on deck as long as you like, +but don't go anywhere else without letting me know. I shall be right +here in the smoking-room, and when I have finished my game I'll take +you up to see the Marconi station."</p> + +<p>Mr. Starr went into the smoking-room with his friend, and Reggie +sauntered along the deck, feeling very much grown-up indeed. It always +gave him a delightful feeling to have his father trust him, and put him +on his honor. His mother and Ellen never seemed to believe it possible +that he could keep out of mischief if he were not constantly watched, +but when he had looked into his father's eyes, and said "honor bright" +he would no more have broken his word than "the boy on the burning +deck" would have deserted his post.</p> + +<p>He took several turns up and down the deck and as he walked he wondered +whether the people in the steamer chairs were watching him and thinking +what a big, independent boy he was. He tried to whistle, in imitation +of his father, but only succeeded in producing such a very faint sound +that he was afraid nobody heard it. But walking on deck in a high sea +is not very easy, and by the time he had taken half a dozen turns, it +occurred to him that it might be wiser to sit down for a little while. +He was looking out in search of a steamer chair, when his attention +was attracted by the sight of a little girl of about his own age, +leaning out of the window of one of the deck staterooms. She was a +very pretty little girl, with blue eyes, and long yellow hair, and +there was something in her expression that made Reggie feel sure she +would like to talk to somebody. He was not, as a rule, particularly +fond of little girls, and it is probable that had there been any boys +present, he would have passed this one without noticing her, but it +happened that she was, at the moment, the most attractive person in +sight, and Reggie—who was not accustomed to remain silent for long at +a time—paused before the open window, and remarked cheerfully:</p> + +<p>"How do you do?"</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt="" id="illus4"> + <div class="caption"> + <p><span class="smcap">Reggie paused before the open window.</span></p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>"How do you do?" returned the little girl, and her face brightened. She +was evidently pleased at being spoken to.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to Egypt, too?" Reggie inquired with interest.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; that's where the ship's going. Aren't you going there +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes I am. I've come all the way from New York, but we went to Rome and +Naples first. Where did you come from?"</p> + +<p>"From England," said the little girl; "I live near London. Have you +ever been to London?"</p> + +<p>"No, but we're going there in the spring, before we go back to America. +Do you like travelling on ships?"</p> + +<p>"Not much. I never was on a ship before, were you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; we came over from New York on the <i>Mauretania</i>, and that's a +much bigger ship than this one. Are your father and mother seasick?"</p> + +<p>"My father's in Cairo, and my mother died when I was a baby, but my +nurse is very sick, and I'm rather frightened about her; she looks +so queer, and keeps groaning all the time."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there isn't anything to be frightened about," said Reggie, +reassuringly. "Ellen does that all the time, and mother does it a +little, too. I guess ladies are generally seasick on ships, but men +aren't. Why isn't your father on the ship with you?"</p> + +<p>"Because he's a soldier and has to stay with his regiment. There isn't +any one with me but nurse, and that's why it frightened me so to have +her sick. If she should die there wouldn't be any one to take care of +me."</p> + +<p>"She won't die," said Reggie; "seasick people never do. Are you going +to see your father in Cairo?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's why we're going there. I don't believe my father was ever +seasick; he's so big and strong and splendid. I haven't seen him since +I was five, but I remember just how he looks."</p> + +<p>"How funny not to see your father since you were five," remarked +Reggie, in a tone of some disapproval. "My father goes to his office +every day, but of course he always comes home in the evening in time +for dinner."</p> + +<p>"But I told you my father is a soldier. He's a colonel, and colonels +can't leave their regiments. He was in India for two years, and then +the regiment was ordered to Egypt, and of course he had to go there."</p> + +<p>"And do you and your nurse live all alone?" Reggie inquired. He did not +think he would enjoy living alone with Ellen.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I live with my Aunt Helen, and she's awfully nice and pretty, +but she says I keep her from having a great many good times, because +she has to stay and take care of me. My grand-mamma used to take care +of me, but she died last year, and now there isn't any one but Aunt +Helen. We went to Italy to spend the winter, but when we got to Naples, +Aunt Helen met some friends who wanted her to go to Greece with them. +At first she thought she couldn't go, on account of me, but then she +remembered how my father wanted her to bring me out to Egypt to see +him this winter, and she decided she'd send me right off to Cairo with +Nurse. She didn't have time to write, because her friends wanted to +start for Greece this week, but she telegraphed to my father to meet us +at Alexandria, and we came right off on this ship."</p> + +<p>"I should think you'd love having your father a colonel," said Reggie. +"I suppose you'll see lots of processions while you're in Cairo. Don't +you love processions?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I ever saw one, but I should like to. My father is a +very brave soldier. They made him a colonel in South Africa, and I +shouldn't be surprised if he got to be a general some day."</p> + +<p>"I hope I shall see him," said Reggie, admiringly. "Perhaps I shall, +for we're going to Cairo, too. What's his name?"</p> + +<p>"Colonel Willoughby, and my name's Phyllis Willoughby. What's yours?"</p> + +<p>"William Reginald Starr, but people generally call me Reggie. I'm going +to be Reginald when I grow up. I say, don't you want to come out? It +must be stuffy in there."</p> + +<p>"I should love to, but I don't believe Nurse would let me; she's so +fussy."</p> + +<p>"Go and ask her. Tell her a boy's going to take care of you. Maybe +she'll let you come then."</p> + +<p>Phyllis looked rather doubtfully at the small figure outside the +window. She thought William Reginald Starr a very grand name, and its +owner certainly had a nice face, but then, he did not look any older +than herself.</p> + +<p>"You're not a very big boy," she remarked sceptically. "How old are +you?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be nine next October."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's only January now, so you're not much more than eight. I was +nine in November. Do you really think you can take care of me?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I can. My father's playing cards in the smoking-room, and +he said I could stay here on deck by myself till he gets through. Come +along. It's great round the other side where the wind blows."</p> + +<p>Phyllis disappeared from the window, but was back again in a moment.</p> + +<p>"Nurse is asleep," she whispered. "I'm afraid it will make her very +cross if I wake her up to ask."</p> + +<p>"Then don't ask, but just come on," said Reggie, recklessly. "Maybe she +won't wake up for ever so long, and then you can tell her it was all my +fault. I'm not afraid of nurses."</p> + +<p>Phyllis hesitated for a moment. She was an obedient child, but the +afternoon had been long and dull, and the temptation was strong.</p> + +<p>"All right," she said, "just wait till I get my coat and hat."</p> + +<p>When Mr. Starr, having finished his game of bridge, came to look for +his small son, he found Reggie sedately pacing the deck, in the company +of a very pretty little girl, with blue eyes and yellow hair. Both +children looked the picture of smiling contentment.</p> + +<p>"Her name's Phyllis Willoughby, and her father's the colonel of a +regiment," Reggie announced by way of introduction. "She's going to +Cairo, because her father lives there, and she hasn't seen him since +she was five. Her nurse is seasick, and her aunt has gone to Greece. +I'm taking care of her."</p> + +<p>"You're beginning early, young man," laughed his father, and the young +Englishman, who had accompanied Mr. Starr from the smoking-room, added:</p> + +<p>"It's the little Willoughby girl. Her father made a name for himself in +South Africa. I know her aunt, nice jolly girl. She's gone to Greece +with a party of friends, and sent the kiddie out here to join her +father in Cairo."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps your little friend would like to inspect the Marconi station +with us," said Mr. Starr, good-naturedly, and Phyllis, who had quite +forgotten about Nurse by this time, readily accepted the invitation.</p> + +<p>Reggie and his father proved two very delightful companions, and +Phyllis spent a most enjoyable half-hour with them, on the hurricane +deck, inspecting the wonderful new invention, which has changed the +whole course of life at sea. It was not until they were on their way +down again, that she suddenly remembered Nurse.</p> + +<p>"I think perhaps I'd better hurry," she said, a little anxiously. "If +Nurse wakes up and doesn't find me, I'm afraid she'll be frightened."</p> + +<p>They quickened their steps, but they were still some distance from the +cabin, when Phyllis saw an approaching figure, at sight of which she +uttered a little gasp of dismay.</p> + +<p>"It's Nurse!" she exclaimed, "and she must be very much frightened +indeed, for she's come out without her false hair, and she's got her +dress on right over her nightie."</p> + +<p>The wrath of Nurse when she caught sight of the little truant, was +truly awful to behold. Even Mr. Starr was rendered speechless beneath +the torrent of reproaches poured upon his head, and poor little Phyllis +was quickly reduced to repentant tears. Reggie alone stood his ground +unflinchingly.</p> + +<p>"It was all my fault," he exclaimed to the irate nurse. "She said you +were asleep, and she didn't want to come, but I said I'd take care +of her, and I did, too, till Daddy came, and then he took care of us +both." But Nurse was not easily appeased.</p> + +<p>"You're a very naughty, disobedient little girl, Miss Phyllis," she +declared. "You shall be put to bed at once, and kept there for the rest +of the day."</p> + +<p>"Well," remarked Reggie to his father, as he watched his little friend +being led away to her cabin in disgrace, "I used to think Ellen was +cross sometimes, but I'm glad she isn't like this one. I'm glad we +haven't got a nurse like that, aren't you, Daddy?" To which his father +responded heartily:</p> + +<p>"I most certainly am, my son."</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IIb">CHAPTER II</h2> +</div> + + +<p>The wind and sea both went down that night, and by noon of the next day +the Mediterranean was as calm as a river. Everybody came on deck, and +the people who had been most seasick the day before, were now among the +liveliest of the passengers. Reggie's mother talked and laughed with +the other ladies, and looked so bright and so pretty, that the little +boy felt very proud of her.</p> + +<p>"I think my mother's the prettiest lady on the ship," he remarked to +Ellen, who had also quite recovered from her indisposition. "None +of the others have such nice eyes or such pretty teeth." To which +Ellen—who adored her mistress—answered readily—</p> + +<p>"You're right there, Master Reggie. You can go a good way, and not find +any lady to beat your mother in looks."</p> + +<p>Phyllis and Nurse were also on deck, but somehow they did not seem as +cheerful as the other passengers. Nurse was still looking rather pale, +and there was a very stern expression about her mouth, and Phyllis was +decidedly quiet and subdued.</p> + +<p>But Reggie was not easily daunted and as soon as he caught sight of his +little friend of the previous afternoon, he ran to her side, with a +friendly greeting.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" he remarked in his usual cheerful tones. "I'm glad you're out +to-day. Is Nurse better?"</p> + +<p>Phyllis cast a frightened glance at Nurse, but did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Stay right here, Miss Phyllis," commanded Nurse in a very awful voice. +"You are not to go gadding about again with strange children, remember. +We had enough of that business yesterday."</p> + +<p>"I think you are a very disagreeable person," said Reggie, indignantly. +"I wasn't going to take Phyllis anywhere; I was only going to talk to +her."</p> + +<p>"You are the boy who led her into mischief yesterday," said Nurse, with +unabated severity.</p> + +<p>"I didn't lead her into mischief," began Reggie, preparing for an +argument. He was very fond of arguing—a weakness which he inherited +from his father, who was a lawyer. "I only wanted her to come out on +deck, because it was stuffy in the cabin. She wanted to ask you, but +you were asleep, so she couldn't."</p> + +<p>"Well, she's not going to walk the deck with you again, that's +certain," retorted Nurse crossly. "I've had one fright on this ship, +and that's enough to last me for some time to come. Her aunt put her in +my charge, and she's to do what I say till we meet her father."</p> + +<p>"Come here, Master Reggie," called Ellen from her steamer chair. "Don't +you know little boys mustn't stay talking to people who don't want +them?" she added, severely, as Reggie turned reluctantly away from his +new friend. "You leave that little girl alone or I'll speak to your +mother about it."</p> + +<p>Reggie was very much disgusted, and would greatly have enjoyed +continuing the argument for some time longer, but Ellen was firm, and +he was forced to submit to the inevitable. For the rest of that day +the two children continued to exchange longing glances, but neither +one dared speak to the other. The next morning the steamer reached +Alexandria.</p> + +<p>"It's the queerest place I ever saw," Reggie said to his father, as +they stood watching the boat-loads of chattering Arabs swarming on +board. "Why do those people wear such funny clothes? They look like +nighties."</p> + +<p>"I have an idea that you will see a good many unusual sights before we +leave Egypt," said Mr. Starr, laughing. "Those men are Arabs, and that +is their national costume."</p> + +<p>"What's a national costume?" demanded Reggie, who was as fond of asking +questions as he was of arguing. But he did not wait for his father's +answer, for at that moment he caught sight of Phyllis standing only +a short distance off, and, wonderful to relate, she was alone. Next +moment Reggie was at her side.</p> + +<p>"Where's Nurse?" he inquired eagerly.</p> + +<p>"She's gone to see about having the trunk taken down. She says I'm not +to move till she comes back."</p> + +<p>"She didn't say you couldn't talk, though, did she? I've been waiting +to talk to you ever since that afternoon. Was she awfully cross about +it?"</p> + +<p>"Rather. She's the crossest person I ever knew. I don't like her much."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't think you would," said Reggie, sympathetically. "Has she +been your nurse for a long time?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, she only came last summer. The nurse I had before was very +kind, and I loved her, but she went away to be married, and Aunt Helen +engaged this one because she had lived with some friends of hers. The +father of the children Nurse used to take care of was a lord, and she's +always talking about the 'haristocracy.' I don't think she likes us +very much. She says Aunt Helen is frivolous—what does frivolous mean?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Reggie admitted reluctantly, "but I'll ask mother. +Aren't those the queerest-looking people you ever saw?"</p> + +<p>"I don't like them," said Phyllis, with a little shudder. "I wish Nurse +would come back. I don't like staying by myself, with all those horrid +black people coming on board."</p> + +<p>"My father and mother are right over there," said Reggie, reassuringly. +"Let's go and stay with them."</p> + +<p>"But Nurse said I mustn't move."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she won't mind. She can see you just as well over there as she can +here."</p> + +<p>Phyllis yielded. She had taken a great fancy to Reggie's pleasant-faced +father, and there was certainly a very comfortable feeling about being +close to somebody grown up, at a time when strange things seemed to +be happening every moment. Mr. Starr greeted the little girl with a +pleasant nod and smile and Reggie's mother—who had heard of Phyllis +and her disagreeable nurse—said, kindly:</p> + +<p>"Is this your little friend, Reggie dear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Reggie; "her nurse has gone to see about the trunk, and she +doesn't like staying by herself, on account of all those funny black +men."</p> + +<p>At that moment a very tall Arab approached, and bowing low to Mr. and +Mrs. Starr, inquired, with a grin—</p> + +<p>"Lady, gentleman, want dragoman? I very fine dragoman; good recommend."</p> + +<p>Phyllis shrank close to Mrs. Starr, with a little gasp of horror, and +even Reggie was somewhat startled, but Mr. Starr only smiled.</p> + +<p>"No, I thank you," he said pleasantly. "My dragoman is to meet me in +Cairo." Whereupon, the Arab bowed again, and walked away.</p> + +<p>"What's a dragoman?" Reggie inquired with interest.</p> + +<p>"A man who takes people about in Egypt, looks after their luggage, and +makes himself generally useful. A dragoman is a most important person +here, as not many foreigners understand the language or the customs. +Ah, here comes the tender to take us on shore."</p> + +<p>Reggie gave a little skip of delight.</p> + +<p>"I think Egypt's great," he declared. "I'm awfully glad we came; aren't +you, Phyllis?"</p> + +<p>"Ye—yes," said Phyllis, doubtfully. "It's rather queer, though, don't +you think so? I don't like quite so many black people. I wish my father +would hurry and come."</p> + +<p>"Do you expect to meet your father at Alexandria?" Mrs. Starr asked +kindly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so. Aunt Helen telegraphed him we were coming on this +ship, and she said she was sure he would be here to meet us. Here comes +Nurse; I hope she won't scold."</p> + +<p>But Nurse was far too much absorbed in her own grievances to have any +thoughts to spare for her little charge. She was laden with bags and +wraps and her crimson cheeks and flashing eyes assured Phyllis of the +fact that Nurse was very angry.</p> + +<p>"Will you be so good as to tell me, sir, if you please, where I'm to +find a porter to help me with these things?" she demanded of Mr. Starr, +without even glancing at Phyllis. "I don't see any one around here but +black men in heathen clothes, and I don't care to trust my property to +them."</p> + +<p>"They are all right," said Mr. Starr, with difficulty repressing his +desire to laugh. "They will take just as good care of your property as +any one else."</p> + +<p>Nurse tossed her head indignantly.</p> + +<p>"One of them tried to snatch a bag out of my hand," she said, "but I +told him I'd call the police if he didn't leave it alone. Not that I +suppose there are any police in this heathen land."</p> + +<p>"Keep close to us, and I will see that you are not troubled in that +way again," said Mr. Starr, good-naturedly, determined for Phyllis's +sake, to ignore past unpleasantness. "The tender is just coming, and +we shall be going on shore in a few minutes. Has your trunk been taken +downstairs?"</p> + +<p>"It's down, but goodness knows whether I shall ever lay eyes on it +again or not. If I had known what kind of a place it was that Miss +Willoughby was sending me to, I would never—" But the rest of Nurse's +sentence was drowned in a tremendous blast from the steamer's whistle +as, at that moment, the tender, which was to land the passengers, came +puffing up to the side of the big ship.</p> + +<p>"Do you see your father, Phyllis?" Reggie inquired, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I don't know; I don't see any gentleman who looks like his picture." +Phyllis's heart was beating fast, and she was trembling with excitement.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he'll be waiting on the shore with his regiment," Reggie +suggested.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he would bring his regiment with him, do you?" said +Phyllis, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"I guess he could if he wanted to. Soldiers have to do just what +their colonels tell them to. Perhaps he'll want to give you a royal +reception, like they're going to give President Roosevelt when he comes +home from Africa. He must be pretty excited about seeing you; you've +been away so long. Mother says if she hadn't seen me since I was five, +and I came all of a sudden, the way you are doing, she thinks she would +die of joy."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Phyllis, and looked very much impressed. She had not been +accustomed to think of herself as a person of such importance that any +one would be likely to die of joy at her arrival. Her aunt was a busy +woman, much absorbed in her own affairs, and though always kind to the +child, had never paid very much attention to her, and her grandmother +had been an invalid for years before her death, so Phyllis had known +little of the petting so familiar to most little girls.</p> + +<p>It was evident that Phyllis's father was not on the tender. Neither was +he to be seen on the pier, when the passengers had been safely landed, +and were standing in the midst of a crowd of jostling, screaming +Arabs, waiting to take their places in the train which was to carry +them to Cairo. Phyllis was sure she would recognize her father by his +photograph, he having sent a new one to Aunt Helen only a few weeks +before. She appeared equally certain that he would recognize her by the +same means and explained that her aunt had sent him her picture in a +silver frame for a Christmas present.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we shall find him at the station in Cairo," Mr. Starr +suggested. "If he had come to Alexandria we should certainly have found +him here."</p> + +<p>Nurse, whose temper had not been improved by the landing, which she had +found somewhat difficult, owing to her numerous belongings, which she +had steadily refused to relinquish to any of the native porters, gave +a reluctant consent when Mr. Starr proposed that they should get into +the Cairo train, and they all entered a first-class carriage together. +By this time Mr. and Mrs. Starr had made up their minds not to lose +sight of Phyllis until they had seen her safely in her father's care. +Nurse settled herself in one corner of the carriage, with a grunt of +disgust, and Ellen—who was not much better pleased with her first +impressions of Egyptian life than Nurse had been, ensconced herself in +the opposite corner. Mr. and Mrs. Starr, however, were in excellent +spirits, and quite prepared to enjoy every moment, and the two children +found the journey a most interesting one. There were so many strange +new sights to be seen from the carriage windows. The flat, barren +landscape, the natives at work in the fields, and, strangest of all, +the tall camels ridden by Arabs and laden with packs of goods. Reggie +was deeply interested in all he saw and plied his father with questions +at the rate, Mr. Starr laughingly declared, of three a second. The +Starrs were very kind to Phyllis, and the little girl soon lost all +shyness, and chatted away with far more freedom than she would have +done to her aunt at home.</p> + +<p>"You are not a bit afraid of your father, are you?" she said +wonderingly to Reggie, when the two children were being regaled with a +light lunch of sandwiches and sponge cakes, with which Mrs. Starr had +provided herself before leaving the steamer.</p> + +<p>"Of course not," said Reggie, indignantly. "What a silly question. +People aren't ever afraid of their fathers."</p> + +<p>"Aren't they?" said Phyllis, in a tone of relief. "I thought they +were sometimes. I think I shall be a little afraid of mine, but then +I haven't seen him in such a long time, and of course that makes a +difference."</p> + +<p>"That's all the more reason why he's sure to be awfully good to you," +affirmed Reggie. "Daddy went away yachting once. He was gone nearly a +month, and when he came home he brought me the grandest Indian suit +you ever saw, and took me fishing the very next day. You can't think +how good fathers and mothers are when they haven't seen you in a good +while."</p> + +<p>"I remember my father pretty well," said Phyllis. "He was very big +and strong, and he laughed a great deal. He used to give me rides on +his shoulder, and I liked it, only I was frightened sometimes when he +tossed me up in the air, and pretended he was going to hit my head +against the ceiling. He sends me beautiful presents, and once he wrote +me such a nice, funny letter."</p> + +<p>"He must be great!" was Reggie's cheerful comment, and nothing more +was said on the subject of fathers during the rest of the journey. But +when they had reached the station at Cairo, and were being pushed and +jostled, and yelled at, by a crowd of native drivers, and still Colonel +Willoughby did not appear, matters began to look more serious. Nurse +became almost hysterical in her agitation, and talked so fast and so +loud, that she was quite the centre of attraction.</p> + +<p>"And what am I to do, I'd like to know?" she demanded. "Here I am in a +heathen land, with that child on my hands, and her father nowhere to be +found."</p> + +<p>"There must be some mistake," Mr. Starr said soothingly. "You had +better come to the hotel with us, and we will make inquiries. You are +sure the little girl's aunt sent the telegram before you left Naples?"</p> + +<p>"She said so, but she's that light-headed and frivolous—excuse me +saying it of a lady, but it's true all the same—that there's no +telling if she mightn't have sent it to the wrong address in her hurry."</p> + +<p>"You have Colonel Willoughby's address, I suppose?" Mr. Starr asked a +little anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, sir, I've got it all wrote down on a card, but I can't get at +it this minute, for it's sewed inside with the money."</p> + +<p>"Well, we will go to the hotel first, and then you can give me the +address, and I am sure we shall soon be in communication with Phyllis's +father."</p> + +<p>At that moment the young Englishman with whom Mr. Starr had played +bridge on the steamer, joined the group, attracted by Nurse's loud +protestations.</p> + +<p>"What's the row?" he inquired good-naturedly, and Mr. Starr explained +the situation in a few words.</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" exclaimed the young man, when he had heard the story, +"that's just like Helen Willoughby. A charming girl, but with about +as much sense in practical matters as a kitten. Fortunately I know +Willoughby's address, so there's no great harm done, but to send a +child of that size off to a strange country, without even waiting to +hear from her father first, is just a little too much."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Starr privately considered Miss Willoughby a very dreadful person +indeed, and her kind heart yearned over little motherless Phyllis.</p> + +<p>The drive through the Cairo streets to the hotel, was a very +interesting one, and as soon as Mr. Starr had seen his family settled +in their rooms, he hurried away in quest of Colonel Willoughby, leaving +Phyllis in his wife's care.</p> + +<p>"It's the wonderfulest place in the world!" announced Reggie, bounding +into the sitting-room from the balcony, where he had been stationed for +the past ten minutes. "Come out and look at the camels and donkeys, +Phyllis. Say, mother, can't I ride a donkey to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>But Phyllis—who was nestled comfortably in Mrs. Starr's lap—appeared +to have lost her interest in camels and donkeys.</p> + +<p>"I want to stay here," she said, decidedly; "it's so comfortable."</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to come out and watch for your father? I don't suppose +he'll have time to bring the regiment now, if he didn't know you were +coming."</p> + +<p>"No," said Phyllis, and she hid her face on Mrs. Starr's shoulder, in a +sudden access of shyness.</p> + +<p>"You are not afraid of anything, are you, darling?" Reggie's mother +asked, tenderly.</p> + +<p>"N—no," said Phyllis, doubtfully, "I'm not exactly afraid, but—but do +you think perhaps my father didn't want me to come, and that's why he +wasn't at the steamer?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, I don't think anything of the sort," said Mrs. Starr, with +decision, her arms instinctively tightening about the little figure in +her lap. "Why, didn't you tell us your father had asked your aunt to +let you come and make him a visit?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but that was before Christmas, and he wanted Aunt Helen to bring +me herself. I thought he might have changed his mind. Aunt Helen very +often changes her mind about things."</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure he hasn't changed his mind," said Mrs. Starr, +cheerfully. "There has been some mistake about the telegram, but it +will soon be explained. Now, wouldn't you like to run out on the +balcony with Reggie while Ellen and I unpack?"</p> + +<p>It was very fascinating on the balcony, and in her interest in all +the new, strange sights, Phyllis almost forgot her anxiety about her +father. Indeed, it was not until she heard Mr. Starr's voice in the +sitting-room, that her heart began to beat uncomfortably fast again.</p> + +<p>"Daddy's back!" exclaimed Reggie, at the same moment. "Perhaps he's +brought your father with him." And he darted in through the open +window, followed more slowly by his little companion.</p> + +<p>But there was nobody there but Mr. Starr, and he was talking earnestly +to Nurse.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Willoughby evidently never received his sister's telegram," +Reggie and Phyllis heard him saying. "It seems, he started on a camping +trip in the desert about ten days ago, and is not expected back for +another week."</p> + +<p>"Another week!" shrieked Nurse, throwing up her hands in horror. "And +whatever is to become of us here in this heathen, outlandish place, +all by ourselves, for a whole week? I'll take the next ship back to +England, that's what I'll do, and I'll give Miss Willoughby warning +the minute I set eyes on her. I ain't strong, I never was, and such +excitement and worriment as this is enough to kill a body outright!"</p> + +<p>"I think you would be extremely foolish to rush back to England before +Colonel Willoughby returns," said Mr. Starr, quietly, but with a +twinkle in his eye. "Seems to me your wisest plan will be to remain +where you are for the next few days. Mrs. Starr and I expect to spend +some time in the neighborhood of Cairo, and we shall be very glad to +look after you and little Phyllis until Colonel Willoughby comes home."</p> + +<p>Nurse looked somewhat mollified.</p> + +<p>"You're very kind, sir, I'm sure," she said, in a milder tone. "It +would be a great relief to my mind, for I ain't accustomed to foreign +ways, I've always lived in the best English families, sir, as I've got +testimonials to show, and I never was hustled off at a minute's notice +to a heathen country full of black people before."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, we will consider the matter settled," said Mr. Starr, +cutting short Nurse's harangue with scant ceremony. "I will go and see +about engaging a room for you at once."</p> + +<p>"Nurse," said Phyllis that evening, when she was being undressed, "I +think American fathers and mothers must love their children very much +indeed. Reggie asked his father twenty-seven questions while you and +Ellen were at your supper, and he answered every single one."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, and I hope you won't learn bad habits from that spoiled little +American boy," was Nurse's indignant rejoinder. "A nice time we should +have with you if you started asking questions at that rate."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose you would be able to answer them," said Phyllis +reflectively, at which Nurse said nothing, but gave vent to her +feelings by an indignant sniff.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IIIb">CHAPTER III</h2> +</div> + + +<p>It was so hot in the hotel garden that Nurse and Ellen, not always the +best of friends, had agreed for once, and declared another game of +"Horse" to be quite out of the question.</p> + +<p>"You'll be getting a sunstroke the next thing," grumbled Nurse, "and +then what'll your father say when he comes? No, Miss Phyllis, you +needn't say another word. You're not going to stay out in this broiling +sun any longer, or Master Reggie either. You're both coming in the +house, to keep quiet till Mr. and. Mrs. Starr come home."</p> + +<p>"But Daddy and Mother won't be back before dinner-time, and it isn't +more than four o'clock now," persisted Reggie. "There isn't a thing to +do in that stupid old hotel. Please let us stay out on the terrace, +even if we can't play 'Horse' any longer—please do, Ellen."</p> + +<p>Ellen, who was much more good-natured than Nurse, hesitated.</p> + +<p>"We might let them play quietly on the hotel terrace," she suggested +rather timidly, for at the bottom of her heart Ellen stood very much in +awe of Nurse. "The band's going to play while the people have tea, and +it'll be nice to listen to the music."</p> + +<p>Nurse really had no objection to sitting on the hotel veranda, while +the orchestra played, and the guests took their afternoon tea, except +that she always objected on principle to every plan that she had +not herself suggested. So she gave a grudging consent, and they all +adjourned to the cool terrace, where the tea-tables were being set +out, and the musicians were tuning up their instruments. It was nearly +a week since they had landed in Egypt, and two days before Mr. Starr +had moved his party to a hotel a little out of Cairo, and close to the +great Pyramids. It was rather hot in Cairo, and the children had found +the change to a purer air very agreeable. Besides, this hotel had a +garden, in which they spent a good part of the day, playing "Horse," a +game of which Reggie in particular, was extremely fond. To-day Mr. and +Mrs. Starr had gone with a party of American friends, to visit some +more distant pyramids, and the children and nurses were left alone at +the hotel.</p> + +<p>"I do like to look at the ladies' pretty dresses," Ellen remarked, with +a little sigh of content, as a party of prettily dressed English girls +took their places at one of the tables.</p> + +<p>"I don't care much about people's dresses," returned Nurse, crossly. +"Things I can't have myself never interest me. The thing I should care +for more than anything else at this minute would be a good cup of tea."</p> + +<p>"They serve tea in the maids' dining-room every afternoon at half-past +four," said Ellen. "It must be just about that time now. I've a great +mind to run and get a cup myself. Would you mind staying here with the +children till I come back?"</p> + +<p>"I could go any time I chose," retorted Nurse, airily. "Miss Phyllis +would never think of stirring from here if I told her not to. You +couldn't say as much for the boy, I suppose."</p> + +<p>Now Ellen was really very fond of Reggie, and she resented the implied +doubt in Nurse's tone.</p> + +<p>"He's a very obedient little fellow," she maintained, stoutly, "and a +sweeter-dispositioned child you wouldn't find in a hurry, I can tell +you."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, what's to prevent our leaving them here, while we both +just step down for a cup of tea? We won't be gone ten minutes."</p> + +<p>The band had by this time struck up a lively march, which quite drowned +the voices of the two women, and the children had no idea what they +were talking about and were much surprised to see both their guardians +rise at once, and to hear Nurse's voice, raised so as to be heard above +the music, informing them that she and Ellen were going to the maids' +dining-room for a cup of tea, and that they were on no account to stir +from the terrace until they came back. Nurse did not wait for any +reply, but hurried away, followed by the more reluctant Ellen.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think Nurse is the most disagreeable person you have ever +seen?" inquired Reggie, as the figures of the two women disappeared +from view.</p> + +<p>"She's pretty disagreeable," Phyllis admitted, with a sigh; "Ellen is +much nicer."</p> + +<p>"Ellen's all right sometimes, but Nurse puts ideas into her head, and +that makes her disagreeable too. It was mean of them to make us stop +playing 'Horse,' just when we were having such fun, and those sticks +with horse-hair on the end, that the people use to shoo away the flies, +did make such splendid tails. It wasn't a bit hotter than it often is +at home in summer, and Daddy says it does people good to be out in the +sun."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't fair, either," said Phyllis, in a deeply aggrieved tone.</p> + +<p>"They made us stop just when it was your turn to be Horse. I'd been +Horse all the afternoon, and it's ever so much more fun to be Driver."</p> + +<p>"They're not fair about a great many things," said Reggie, his +indignation rising at the memory of more injustice. "They haven't taken +us for a walk since we came here, and of course we don't want to stay +in the old garden all day. I asked Ellen very nicely this morning, if +she wouldn't please take us to see the Pyramids and the Sphinx again, +and she was just going to say 'Yes' when Nurse said she'd like to see +herself walking about among all those black heathens, and then Ellen +said she was afraid, and we'd have to stay in the garden till Daddy and +Mother came home. It isn't fair. We've only seen the Sphinx once, and +Daddy says it's one of the most interesting things in Egypt."</p> + +<p>"The Sphinx is rather ugly, don't you think so?" said Phyllis, +doubtfully. "I dreamed about it last night, and it wasn't a nice dream. +I like the Pyramids better."</p> + +<p>"I don't think the Sphinx is ugly," returned Reggie. "I think it's just +queer. Daddy says I must keep my eyes open all the time, and remember +everything I see, so I can tell people about them when I go home. He +says travelling educates people as much as going to school, but I don't +see how I'm going to get educated if Ellen won't take me to see things."</p> + +<p>"It isn't far to the Pyramids," observed Phyllis, with a glance in +the direction of the great stone marvels, which can be seen for miles +around. "It would only take a few minutes to walk there."</p> + +<p>"I wish we could go by ourselves," said Reggie. "We could just as well +as not, if they would only let us. It isn't any further than Bobby +Campbell's house is from ours in New York, and I always go there by +myself."</p> + +<p>"Who's Bobby Campbell?" Phyllis inquired, with interest.</p> + +<p>"He's my best friend. He's nine, and I'm going to his school next year. +We always go to each other's houses by ourselves. At first mother was +afraid I might get run over crossing the street, but Daddy said it was +nonsense, and that boys must learn to take care of themselves, so now +she always lets me go."</p> + +<p>"Ellen and Nurse would never let us go out by ourselves here," said +Phyllis, with conviction.</p> + +<p>"Of course they wouldn't, they're such sillies, but we might do it some +time when they weren't around. We'd only go as far as the Sphinx and I +don't believe Daddy would mind."</p> + +<p>"It would be fun," Phyllis admitted, "if we were sure the black people +wouldn't hurt us."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" said Reggie, in a tone of infinite scorn. "You certainly are a +great baby, Phyllis, even if you are nine. Those Arabs are very good +people, even if they are black. I know a boy at home whose family have +a colored coachman, and he's just as nice as he can be. He's taught Joe +to drive, and lets him come into the stable whenever he likes. Then +there's Abdul, our dragoman. I heard mother tell Daddy she thought +Abdul had a beautiful smile, and you know how kind he was yesterday +when we rode the donkeys. Nobody would be afraid of an Arab except +sillies like Nurse and Ellen."</p> + +<p>"I'm not really afraid," declared Phyllis, who was feeling a good deal +ashamed of her momentary doubts. "I'd just as lief as not walk as far +as the Sphinx by ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's do it," said Reggie, with a sudden inspiration. "It +wouldn't take but a few minutes, and it would be such fun."</p> + +<p>Phyllis gave a little gasp of excitement. "Do you mean to do it now, +this minute?" she demanded, incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Yes, why not? We may never get another chance. They've gone off for +tea, and you know how long that always takes them. Just as likely as +not they'll be back before we are, and then won't they be surprised +when they hear where we've been?"</p> + +<p>"But Nurse told us not to stir till she came back," faltered Phyllis, +feeling a little frightened, though her eyes were sparkling with +mischievous anticipation.</p> + +<p>"But we didn't promise. Of course if we'd promised we couldn't do it, +but they didn't even wait for us to answer. I'm going, any way, but you +can stay here if you want to."</p> + +<p>"If you go I'm going, too," declared Phyllis, stoutly. "Nurse will +scold dreadfully, and perhaps she'll put me to bed, but it's pretty +near bedtime, anyway, and I'm tired, so I don't care. Are you sure your +father and mother won't be angry?"</p> + +<p>"Daddy won't, he likes to have me do grown-up things. Mother might be +a little bit worried if she knew about it, but we shall be back ages +before she comes home. Besides, Daddy can generally talk her round. +Come along, we've got to hurry if we want to get back before Ellen and +Nurse."</p> + +<p>All this time the orchestra had been playing very loud, and in +consequence none of the other people on the terrace had overheard +the children's conversation. A few of the ladies glanced carelessly +at the two little figures, as they rose from their seats, and walked +resolutely down the steps, and away in the direction of the gate, but +no one imagined for a moment that they contemplated anything more +daring than a stroll about the hotel grounds.</p> + +<p>"What an attractive child that little girl is!" one lady remarked +carelessly, and her companion answered:</p> + +<p>"Yes, and the boy is a manly little fellow, too. I wonder who they are. +They haven't been here more than a day or two."</p> + +<p>"It's a lucky thing they didn't make us take off our hats when they +brought us in," remarked Reggie, as they walked briskly down the path. +"The sun is pretty hot, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't mind it a bit," returned Phyllis, determined that her +companion should not have an opportunity of pronouncing her a baby +again. "I can walk a long way. I walked six miles with Aunt Helen once. +We went to have tea with some people, and lost our way coming home. +Aunt Helen was a little frightened when it began to get dark, but I +wasn't frightened a bit. We got home all right, and Aunt Helen let me +stay and warm myself by the drawing-room fire, and it was so nice and +comfy."</p> + +<p>"You're all right, for a girl," remarked Reggie, and considered that he +had paid his little friend a very high compliment.</p> + +<p>It was really only a short distance to the first of the great pyramids +which have been one of the wonders of the world for ages. In less than +ten minutes from the time they left the hotel, the children were in the +midst of a busy, chattering crowd, composed of tourists, donkey and +camel boys, sellers of mummy beads and other curiosities, and beggars +of every description. Such a scene would have frightened many children, +but a week in Cairo had accustomed Reggie and Phyllis to the strange +sights and sounds of the country, and on a visit paid to the pyramids +on the previous day, Mr. Starr had assured them there was nothing to be +afraid of. So Reggie pushed on manfully, holding firmly to Phyllis's +hand, until they stood in the shadow of the great Pyramid.</p> + +<p>"My, but it's high!" exclaimed Reggie, gazing up at the mighty +structure. "Don't you wonder how they got all those great stones here, +and who put them up?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the fairies did it by magic," suggested Phyllis, who had +not outgrown her belief in fairy tales, but Reggie looked scornfully +incredulous.</p> + +<p>"Of course they didn't," he said with an air of superior wisdom. "Men +did it, but it was so long ago that nobody knows how they managed, or +what sort of machinery they had. I wish Daddy would let me climb to the +top."</p> + +<p>"You might fall down and get killed," suggested the more prudent +Phyllis. "I wouldn't do it for anything."</p> + +<p>"Of course you wouldn't. Girls are never brave. I could climb that +pyramid just as easy—as easy as anything, if Daddy would only let me."</p> + +<p>"Well, he won't let you; he said so yesterday, so what's the use +talking about it? Besides, girls do brave things just as well as boys. +Nurse read me a story about a little girl who stopped a train, and +saved a great many people's lives."</p> + +<p>At that moment they were accosted by a very objectionable looking +beggar who, in a whining voice, demanded "Backsheesh," which is the +Egyptian way of asking for pennies. Neither of them had any money, +so Reggie shook his head violently, while Phyllis retreated behind +her companion, not liking the beggar's appearance. The beggar scowled +fiercely, and muttering a few angry words, turned away in search of +more promising prey.</p> + +<p>"He swore at us, Reggie, I'm sure he did," whispered Phyllis, who had +turned rather pale.</p> + +<p>"How do you know it was swearing?" demanded Reggie, his eyes beginning +to flash.</p> + +<p>"Because a beggar in Naples spoke just like that to Aunt Helen, when +she wouldn't give him any pennies, and she said it was swearing. I +don't like being sworn at. Let's hurry home."</p> + +<p>"Hurry home!" repeated Reggie, incredulously. "Why, we haven't been +anywhere yet. We've got to go as far as the Sphinx."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't believe we'd better, I really don't, Reggie. Suppose Nurse +and Ellen come back and don't find us, think how frightened they'll be. +I don't like to frighten people."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind, at least not when they're such sillies as Ellen and +Nurse. Besides, they won't have long to be frightened. We'll go right +home just as soon as we've seen the Sphinx. Come along, and don't be a +goose."</p> + +<p>Phyllis yielded. Reggie was the first little boy she had ever known +intimately in her life, and she was very anxious to stand well in +his good opinion. Besides, she had almost as much faith in Reggie's +judgment as in that of his father. A boy who was allowed, nay, even +encouraged by his parents, to ask questions, and who was allowed to +talk at the table, and to go out in the street alone, must, she was +convinced, be a very important young person indeed. If she refused to +go any further, the probabilities were that Reggie, in his turn, would +refuse to play with her for hours, if not days, and that would mean the +end of all things. So she stifled a sigh, and resolutely prepared to +follow her more venturesome companion.</p> + +<p>The road from the hotel to the Pyramids was hard and comparatively easy +walking, but when they had turned their steps in the direction of the +mammoth stone figure, known to all the world as the Sphinx, they were +obliged to leave the path behind them, and plod through the deep sand +of the desert. It was difficult walking for the unaccustomed little +feet, and Phyllis was soon very tired, though not for worlds would she +have admitted the fact to Reggie.</p> + +<p>"It seems much longer than it did when we were on the donkeys, doesn't +it?" she panted, plodding bravely on through the soft, yielding sand. +"Do you suppose it's much further?"</p> + +<p>"It's right here," encouraged Reggie, cheerfully. "My, how you do pant!"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry I do, but I can't help it," said Phyllis, apologetically. "I +never walked in this kind of sand before. The sand at the seaside is +much harder."</p> + +<p>Reggie made no answer. The fact was, he was finding the walk a more +difficult one than he liked, but he did not care to admit the fact to +his little companion.</p> + +<p>A few minutes more, and they had reached their destination, and +were standing before the great figure, which has interested so many +thousands of people for centuries. It was very grand and awe inspiring, +with the rays of the setting sun falling full upon it, and even two +little children like Reggie and Phyllis could not but be impressed +with the wonder of it all. They had left the greater part of the crowd +behind, and only a few natives were loitering about. One man wanted to +sell them some mummy beads, and another offered to tell their fortunes, +but when Reggie shook his head, and said "Imshie," a word he had heard +their dragoman use, and which he believed meant "go away," they both +moved on, and the children were left in peace.</p> + +<p>"It seems as if the Sphinx must be thinking about something, doesn't +it?" said Phyllis, in an awed whisper, and she drew a little nearer to +her companion as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose it was alive once, and some wicked fairy turned it into +stone?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Reggie. "It must have been a giant if it ever was +alive. Daddy says nobody knows who made it. It was buried in the sand +for hundreds of years, and at last some people found it and dug it out. +It kept getting covered again for a long time, and they had to keep +digging it out, but now they don't let it happen any more."</p> + +<p>"I think it must be getting rather late," said Phyllis, with an anxious +glance at the setting sun. "Oh, Reggie, look at that sunset! Did you +ever see such a beautiful one?"</p> + +<p>"It is pretty, isn't it?" said Reggie, who was not as much interested +in sunsets as he was in some other things. "I wonder what makes the sky +look like that."</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Phyllis, reflectively. "Perhaps God has a golden +lamp in his dining-room, and the angels light it every evening at +supper time, only cloudy nights we can't see it. I don't believe they +ever have cloudy nights in Egypt; the sky always looks so blue."</p> + +<p>"I guess perhaps we'd better not stay here any longer," said Reggie, +with a sudden recollection. "It gets dark pretty soon after the sun +sets."</p> + +<p>Phyllis looked a little frightened.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't like to be out after dark," she said. "Were you ever out +by yourself after dark?"</p> + +<p>"No, I never happened to be," Reggie admitted, reluctantly. "I wouldn't +be a bit afraid, though. Come along; I guess we'd better hurry a +little."</p> + +<p>But it was no easy matter to hurry in that soft sand, and though they +both plodded along bravely, they seemed to make but little progress.</p> + +<p>"I didn't notice the sand was so deep when we came, did you?" panted +Reggie, when they had been walking for fully ten minutes in silence, +and the sand appeared to be growing softer and more yielding at every +step. "No, I didn't," said Phyllis, suddenly stopping short. "Are you +sure we're going the right way, Reggie?"</p> + +<p>"Of course we are," said Reggie. "There isn't but one way to go, and +it's so flat you can see for ever so far." But he looked a little +startled at the suggestion, nevertheless.</p> + +<p>They plodded on for another five minutes, and then suddenly, to +Reggie's utter horror and consternation, Phyllis sat flat down in the +sand and began to cry.</p> + +<p>"I can't walk any more," she sobbed; "my feet are so tired, and my +shoes are all full of sand. Besides, I'm quite sure this isn't the way +back to the hotel."</p> + +<p>Reggie was filled with dismay.</p> + +<p>"Well of all the sillies!" he began. "Look here, Phyllis, you've got to +come on. We can't stay here. It's getting later all the time, and it's +going to be dark in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to stay here," wailed poor little Phyllis. "I want to go +back to the hotel, but we're lost, I know we are, and it's so hard to +walk in this dreadful sand."</p> + +<p>"No, we're not lost either," Reggie maintained, stoutly. "I know the +way all right, and if you'll only stop being a silly, and come along, +we'll be home in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>Thus urged, Phyllis rose and dried her eyes. Then she looked about +hopelessly.</p> + +<p>"Which way did we come?" she inquired. "It all looks just the same, +and those big sand hills hide everything, so we can't tell whether +we've been here before or not."</p> + +<p>Reggie was secretly a good deal troubled, but he assumed a cheerful +confidence, and they trudged on for another five minutes. Then it was +Reggie himself who paused.</p> + +<p>"I guess we'd better ask somebody the way," he said. "I shouldn't like +to take you too far."</p> + +<p>"But there isn't anybody to ask," said Phyllis, looking across the wide +stretch of sand, on which, at the moment, there was not a human being +to be seen. "Besides, those horrid Arabs don't understand any English. +Oh, Reggie, what shall we do?" And Phyllis began to cry again.</p> + +<p>"We may meet some English people if we keep on a little further," said +Reggie, bravely determined to look on the bright side of things. "There +were plenty of them around by the Pyramids. Besides, some of the Arabs +do speak English. That man who wanted to tell our fortunes talked all +right."</p> + +<p>"But suppose we don't meet any people at all, what shall we do then? We +can't stay out here all night, and everybody will be so frightened if +we don't come home soon."</p> + +<p>"I know they will," said Reggie, looking grave. "I wish we hadn't +come, but it seemed so easy; I never thought of getting lost. I'm glad +Daddy and Mother won't get home till late. I shouldn't like Mother to +be frightened."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do about it?" inquired Phyllis, instinctively +turning to the stronger nature for guidance.</p> + +<p>Reggie reflected for a moment, and glanced anxiously at the rapidly +deepening twilight.</p> + +<p>"I guess we'd better keep on," he said. "We may meet somebody in a few +minutes, and perhaps we're going the right way all the time. I wish it +didn't get dark quite so soon after the sun goes down. It never does +that way at home."</p> + +<p>For another ten minutes they struggled on. Then, suddenly from over the +top of a low sand hill, they caught sight of a cluster of native mud +huts. Reggie gave vent to a sort of relief.</p> + +<p>"Now we shall find some people," he announced joyfully. "I knew it +would be all right if we just kept on a little longer."</p> + +<p>But Phyllis was not so easily pleased.</p> + +<p>"I don't like to go down there," she protested, drawing back; "it looks +so very dirty."</p> + +<p>"Never mind," said Reggie, encouragingly. "They won't hurt us, and +we'll only have to stay long enough to ask some one to tell us the way +back to the hotel. Come on!" And to Phyllis's horror, her companion +began running down the sand hill, into the very midst of the native +village. She was afraid to be left alone, so she followed, with a +wildly beating heart, and almost before either of them realized what +was happening to them, they were the centre of a group of excited +native children, who in their astonishment at finding a little white +boy and girl suddenly in their midst, swarmed about them like so many +flies.</p> + +<p>"Backsheesh, backsheesh, backsheesh!" screamed the little Arabs, +stretching out their grimy hands.</p> + +<p>"Imshie, imshie!" shouted Reggie, indignantly, waving them away, and +trying to protect Phyllis's dainty white dress from too close contact +with the objectionable little natives. "We haven't got any backsheesh, +and you mustn't crowd so much, it isn't polite. Isn't there anybody +here who can speak English?"</p> + +<p>The children stared, and began chattering very fast, but neither Reggie +nor Phyllis could understand a word of what they said. At last one of +the larger boys seized Reggie by the arm, and began dragging him along +with him. Phyllis screamed with terror, but Reggie stood his ground +manfully.</p> + +<p>"I think he's only going to take us to somebody who talks English," he +said, reassuringly. "I guess we'd better go with him."</p> + +<p>Phyllis did not feel at all sure that her companion was right, but she +was far too much frightened to be left alone in that dreadful place, +so she, too, followed. The boy led them to one of the mud huts, the +entrance to which was so low that it was necessary to creep in on all +fours. He said something to somebody inside; there was an answer, and +then the boy stood aside, and made a sign to the children to enter.</p> + +<p>Phyllis screamed again, and grasped Reggie's arm firmly.</p> + +<p>"You shan't go in that dreadful place!" she cried in terror. "Perhaps +they're cannibals, and will eat us up. Oh, please come away, please do!"</p> + +<p>At that moment, there emerged from the hut a boy of about twelve, +dressed in the native costume, and leaning on a stick. He was evidently +lame, for he moved very slowly, and with great difficulty, but he was +smiling pleasantly, and he bowed low to the two little strangers.</p> + +<p>"I can English story tell," he said in a sweet, clear voice. "I in +English school go."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you?" cried Reggie, in a tone of heartfelt relief. "I'm so glad +to find somebody who talks English. Will you please tell us the way +back to the Pyramids and the hotel? I'm afraid we're lost, and it's +getting so late."</p> + +<p>The lame boy listened courteously, and continued to smile. When Reggie +had finished speaking he went on quietly.</p> + +<p>"The sun shines in the sky by day. The moon shines in the sky by night. +The sun is warm. The sun makes the flowers to grow. The moon is cold. +The moon does not make grow the beautiful flowers."</p> + +<p>The boy paused, still smiling, and waited patiently for praise or +backsheesh, whichever might be forthcoming. Reggie was very much +puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I asked you the way back to the hotel," he said rather indignantly. +"We know all about the sun and the moon; you needn't tell us that."</p> + +<p>The boy bowed courteously, and murmured something in his own language.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he knows any more English," exclaimed Reggie, with a +sudden inspiration. "He's learned that in school, the same as we learn +French fables."</p> + +<p>"He must know more than that," declared Phyllis, desperately. "Perhaps +he'll understand if we talk broken English to him—the kind Abdul +talks. We lost, boy; we want go back hotel."</p> + +<p>A light of comprehension dawned in the boy's face, but he shook his +head sadly. Evidently his small stock of English had already been +exhausted.</p> + +<p>"O dear! what shall we do now?" cried Phyllis, beginning to cry again +in her despair. "None of them speak English."</p> + +<p>Reggie looked helpless, but made one more effort.</p> + +<p>"Show us hotel," he said, still clinging desperately to Phyllis's +broken English. "My father give big backsheesh."</p> + +<p>At the words, "my father," the boy smiled brightly.</p> + +<p>"My father can English story tell," he announced, proudly.</p> + +<p>Reggie was somewhat relieved, but Phyllis said mournfully—</p> + +<p>"If it's all about the sun and the moon I don't see any use."</p> + +<p>"Where is your father?" inquired Reggie, anxiously.</p> + +<p>The boy seemed to understand this question, for he smiled again and +pointed out over the desert.</p> + +<p>"I suppose he means his father is somewhere out there," said Reggie. "I +wish we knew how soon he'll be back."</p> + +<p>"I don't see what good it would do if he came home," said Phyllis, with +a sob. "Perhaps he only knows fables, too. Let's come away from here; +it's a horrid place."</p> + +<p>But Reggie was of a different opinion.</p> + +<p>"I guess we'd better wait a little while," he said, "in case his father +does come home. He may be able to understand what we want, and we can't +go back to the hotel by ourselves; we don't know the way, and it's +getting very dark."</p> + +<p>Phyllis burst into an uncontrollable fit of crying.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to stay here," she wailed. "It's so dirty, and—and +awful, and I'm afraid—oh, Reggie, I'm so afraid!"</p> + +<p>To tell the truth, Reggie was more than a little afraid himself, but he +made a mighty effort to appear quite at his ease.</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" he remarked scornfully. "I'm not afraid. I'd much rather stay +here where people are, than out on the desert by ourselves. Besides, +there isn't anything to be afraid of. I won't let anybody hurt you."</p> + +<p>Phyllis gazed at her companion through her tears, and a look of +profound admiration replaced the expression of hopeless misery on her +face.</p> + +<p>"You are a very brave boy," she said in a tone of conviction, not +unmixed with awe. "Aren't you really the least little bit afraid?"</p> + +<p>Reggie was conscious of a sensation of embarrassment. He was a +truthful boy, and he did not like the idea of deceiving his little +friend. Still, he reflected that if he let Phyllis suspect that he was +frightened, she would naturally be more unhappy than she already was. +So he took refuge in a slight prevarication.</p> + +<p>"Boys are never afraid of things like girls," he announced, +confidently. "Mother's always getting worried about all kinds of +things, but Daddy never bothers. Let's sit down. I'm pretty tired, +aren't you?"</p> + +<p>Phyllis looked about her, as if in search of something.</p> + +<p>"There isn't anything to sit on," she said.</p> + +<p>"There's the ground," said Reggie, promptly seating himself as he +spoke. "All the people here sit on the ground."</p> + +<p>"But the ground is so dirty, and Nurse will make such a fuss if I soil +my dress," protested Phyllis.</p> + +<p>"Bother Nurse! Nobody cares whether she fusses or not. Besides, your +dress isn't very clean any more. I guess it'll have to go in the wash +when we get home."</p> + +<p>Phyllis glanced at the pretty white muslin, which had been so clean and +fresh only a few hours before, and heaved a sigh, as she reluctantly +seated herself on the ground by Reggie's side. The lame boy, evidently +understanding their intention to await his father's return, bowed and +smiled once more, and sat down on the ground opposite his visitors. The +other native children, who had been watching proceedings with interest, +finding there was nothing exciting going on, began to drop off one +after another, and were soon intent on their own affairs once more.</p> + +<p>Then followed a long time of waiting. If they hadn't been so tired +and anxious, the children might have found the scene before them very +curious and interesting. It certainly was different from anything they +had ever imagined in their lives before. The news that two little +Europeans had taken shelter in the native village soon spread, and the +inhabitants flocked from their mud huts to look at them. They were +principally women and children, but there were a few men as well, and +they all stared as if the sight of a little white girl in a muslin +dress, and a little white boy in a sailor suit, sitting in front of +a mud hut, was a very extraordinary sight indeed. The lame boy had +constituted himself their guardian. He never moved from his seat, but +whenever a native attempted to approach the children too closely, he +waved his stick, and shouted such violent language that the intruders +speedily withdrew to a safe distance.</p> + +<p>"I think he's swearing at them," whispered Phyllis, looking very much +shocked, but to her astonishment, Reggie, whom she had always regarded +as a very good little boy, replied promptly—</p> + +<p>"I don't know, but I hope he is, if that's what keeps them away."</p> + +<p>"But it's wicked to swear, Reggie; Nurse says people who do it won't go +to Heaven."</p> + +<p>"Well, he's a nice boy, anyway," maintained Reggie, "and we don't know +that he's swearing. Perhaps he's only telling them to keep away. Oh, +look at that little girl with a baby in her arms. She isn't much bigger +than you."</p> + +<p>A little girl of perhaps nine or ten, had just emerged from the mud +hut before which they were sitting. She carried a fat baby in her arms, +and although very scantily clad, and decidedly dirty, she struck the +children as the most prepossessing native they had yet seen.</p> + +<p>"She's pretty, isn't she?" whispered Phyllis. "I suppose the baby is +her little brother or sister, and she's taking care of it while her +mother gets supper."</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus5.jpg" alt="" id="illus5"> + <div class="caption"> + <p>"<span class="smcap">She's pretty, isn't she?" whispered Phyllis.</span></p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>She smiled pleasantly at the native child, who in her turn, stared with +round eyes of amazement at the two little strangers, and exchanged +rapid remarks with the lame boy, of which the children were evidently +the subject. Suddenly she deposited the baby unceremoniously upon +the ground, and disappeared once more within the mud hut. Phyllis +and Reggie, accustomed to the ways of English and American babies, +fully expected the little native to set up a howl of wrath, at being +so suddenly left to its own resources, but to their surprise, it did +not seem in the least disturbed, but promptly began rolling over and +over in the sand, kicking its little bare, black legs in the air, and +uttering shrieks of delight.</p> + +<p>"Oh, isn't it cunning!" cried Phyllis, everything else forgotten for +the moment in this new interest. "I wonder if it would let me hold it."</p> + +<p>"Don't you touch it," warned Reggie. "It's awfully dirty, and there's +something queer the matter with its eyes."</p> + +<p>"It isn't so very dirty, and it can't help its poor little eyes. Oh, +Reggie, look, it can creep; it's coming over here."</p> + +<p>It was true. The baby evidently attracted by something in the +appearance of the two little white strangers, was making its way on +all fours rapidly in their direction. In another moment, Phyllis, +regardless of Reggie's disapproval, had dragged it into her lap. The +lame boy appeared well pleased, for he smiled and nodded, and murmured, +half to himself and half to the children—</p> + +<p>"The moon shines in the sky by day. The sun shines in the sky by night."</p> + +<p>"He's got it wrong this time," said Reggie. "He says the moon shines in +the sky by day. Oh, I do wish he knew some more English!"</p> + +<p>But Phyllis was too much absorbed with the dirty little Arab to pay any +heed.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it makes any difference what language you talk to +babies in," she said. "They don't understand one any better than +another. Oh, see, Reggie, it's putting its finger in its mouth, just +the way babies do at home."</p> + +<p>At this moment, the little sister, or whatever she was, once more came +out of the hut. She carried in her hands a large cake of the hard +Egyptian bread, which forms almost the only food of the poorer classes +on The Nile, and at sight of Phyllis with the baby in her lap, she, +too, smiled and nodded in the same pleased way as the lame boy had done.</p> + +<p>"I think they must like us," said Phyllis. "I wish we could talk to the +little girl. I want to ask her the baby's name."</p> + +<p>Conversation being out of the question, Phyllis was forced to content +herself with nods and smiles, which were, perhaps, just as satisfactory +under the circumstances. The girl proceeded to break the enormous +cake into several pieces, one of which she handed to the boy, who +immediately began eating it, with evident relish. Then she approached +Phyllis, and smilingly held out a piece to her.</p> + +<p>"Must we take it, do you think?" whispered Phyllis, instinctively +drawing back. "It doesn't look at all nice."</p> + +<p>"I guess we'd better," returned Reggie, also in a whisper. "They might +be offended if we didn't." And he accepted the proffered offering with +as good grace as he could assume.</p> + +<p>"I really don't think I can possibly eat it," said Phyllis, regarding +the unpalatable looking food distastefully. "Do you suppose this is all +the supper they're going to have? Oh, the baby wants it; I'm afraid +it'll choke itself."</p> + +<p>But the baby's guardian evidently did not share Phyllis's +apprehensions, for she immediately began breaking the bread into small +pieces, and cramming them into the baby's mouth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know it's going to choke," cried Phyllis, in dismay. "Why don't +you give it a bottle?" she added, in her excitement quite forgetting +the fact that the Arab child spoke no English.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a silly," remarked Reggie, contemptuously. "I don't suppose +Egyptian babies ever have bottles."</p> + +<p>"But they haven't got any more teeth than our babies have," persisted +Phyllis, still feeling very much worried. "I'm sure this one is going +to choke in a minute."</p> + +<p>But, strange to say, the baby did not choke. On the contrary, it +appeared to be enjoying its peculiar meal very much, and in the +fascination of watching it, Phyllis and Reggie for the moment forgot +everything else. Then suddenly, a dreadful noise fell upon their ears. +It was a succession of piercing shrieks, and turning in the direction +from whence they came, the children saw, to their horror, first a +ragged boy running as if for life, and then a tall man, hotly pursuing +him, and brandishing a thick stick. The boy ran fast, but the man ran +still faster, and before the children had realized what it all meant, +he had reached his victim, seized him in a firm grasp, and was beating +him with such violence that his shrieks increased in volume, and soon +changed to howls of pain.</p> + +<p>The villagers looked on calmly enough, some of them even laughing +at the poor boy's discomfiture, but not so Reggie and Phyllis. With +a scream, almost as loud as the boy's own, Phyllis was on her feet, +letting the baby roll over face downward in the sand, and next moment +she was running out of the village with flying feet, closely followed +by Reggie.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IVb">CHAPTER IV</h2> +</div> + + +<p>How long and how far they ran the children never knew. They ran through +the soft sand as if their feet were winged, with but one thought in +both their minds, to get as far away from that dreadful village as +possible, before the man with the stick turned from his victim, and +started in pursuit of them. They were far too frightened by what they +had seen to stop to consider that the man could not possibly bear them +any ill will, or desire to injure them in any way. Both their hats +were soon left behind; several times they fell, but fortunately the +sand was soft, and they were up and off again in a moment. At last, +hot, breathless, and utterly exhausted, Phyllis sank down in a little +heap at the foot of a sand hill, and Reggie, scarcely less exhausted +himself, dropped down beside her.</p> + +<p>It was some minutes before either of them had recovered sufficient +breath to move or speak, and then Reggie was the first to sit up and +look around. There was not a human being in sight, and they seemed to +be surrounded on every side, as far as the eye could reach, by nothing +but vast stretches of desert sand. The last faint tints of daylight +were just fading out of the evening sky, and a few stars were beginning +to twinkle. Reggie shuddered. Something in the great stillness and +solitude all around terrified him even more than the man beating the +boy in the village had done.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't it—wasn't it awful!" gasped Phyllis, finding her voice at +last. "Do you suppose that man would have killed us if we hadn't run +away so fast?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," said Reggie, who felt his courage rapidly rising now +that he was at a safe distance from the terrible man with the stick. "I +don't believe he would have hurt us a bit. I wish we hadn't run away. +We ought to have waited till that lame boy's father came home. He said +his father talked English."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reggie, you wouldn't really, it was so dreadful! Do let's hurry +and get back to the hotel; it's getting so very late, and Nurse and +Ellen will be so frightened."</p> + +<p>"But we don't know the way," said Reggie, mournfully. "We're lost this +time, sure, and it's almost dark, too."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reggie, what are we going to do?" cried Phyllis, clasping her +hands in a sudden realization of the hopelessness of things. "Suppose +we should have to stay out here all night."</p> + +<p>"Well, we couldn't help it if we did," said Reggie, gloomily digging +his toes in the sand. "I guess we won't, though. Daddy's sure to come +and look for us as soon as he gets home."</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose he's come home yet?" inquired Phyllis, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, but I guess he will be home soon, anyway. It must be +'most supper time. I'm getting pretty hungry, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very, and there isn't anything to eat. Reggie, suppose we should +starve."</p> + +<p>"Bosh!" said Reggie, with a great show of contempt. "Of course we +won't. I heard Daddy say a person could live a whole week without +eating anything, and they'll be sure to find us before that."</p> + +<p>"A whole week!" gasped Phyllis, her eyes growing round with horror. +"Why, if we had to stay here all night I should die, I know I should. +Oh, it's dreadful, it's dreadful!" And poor little Phyllis lifted up +her voice and wailed.</p> + +<p>Reggie felt very much inclined to follow her example, but remembered +just in time that he was a boy, and so merely rubbed the back of his +hand across his eyes instead. Phyllis continued to wail until her +head began to ache, and then the wails subsided into low moans, with +occasional pauses for rest. Reggie sat still, without uttering a word. +There really didn't seem to be anything to say. He was rather sorry +when Phyllis stopped screaming, because it made the silence seem even +worse than before. At last Phyllis lifted her head from the pile of +sand on which she had laid it in her weariness, and inquired in a +choked little voice—</p> + +<p>"Were you ever lost before, Reggie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, once," said Reggie, glad of any sound to break the awful +stillness. "It was two summers ago at York Harbor. I was only six then, +and Ellen took me to the woods to pick raspberries. We took the wrong +path coming home, and were dreadfully late for supper. Mother was +frightened."</p> + +<p>"But you didn't have to stay out all night, did you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, we found the right path after a while, and we ate lots of +raspberries, so we didn't mind so much about being late. I wish we'd +eaten some of the bread that girl gave us."</p> + +<p>Phyllis shuddered.</p> + +<p>"I don't," she said, decidedly. "It was horrid stuff; it might have +made us ill."</p> + +<p>"We must have dropped our pieces when we ran away," said Reggie, +regretfully. "We've lost our hats, too. Do you suppose Nurse will make +an awful row about yours?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure she will," said Phyllis, putting her hand up to her bare +head. She had been too much absorbed by other things to notice her +loss before. "Don't you think we'd better go back and look for them? +Nurse says people always take cold if they go out without their hats at +night."</p> + +<p>Reggie scrambled to his feet.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said promptly; "come along."</p> + +<p>But alas! in what direction were they to turn? In vain they strained +their eyes through the fast gathering darkness, in search of some +landmark that might serve them as a guide. There was nothing but sand, +sand, in every direction.</p> + +<p>"I guess we'd better stay right here where we are," said Reggie. "We +might get more lost than we are if we went any further, and it's +getting too dark to see anything."</p> + +<p>Phyllis made no objection, but sank down on the ground again, and for +the next ten minutes sobbed her poor little frightened heart out in the +sand. At last Reggie spoke, breaking a silence which had lasted, it +seemed to him, a very long time.</p> + +<p>"All the stars in the sky are lit now," he remarked, with a faint hope +of arousing Phyllis's interest, and making her talk. "I wonder what +God's doing up there now, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Phyllis lifted her head, with a start.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he's looking right down at us," she said, with a sudden hope. +"If He is He'll be sure to send somebody to find us very soon, don't +you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Reggie, confidently. He was delighted to have his friend +take a more hopeful view of the situation. "God sees everybody all the +time, you know."</p> + +<p>"I don't quite understand how He does it," said Phyllis, a little +doubtfully, "but I do hope He's looking at us this minute. I shouldn't +be nearly so much afraid if I could be sure of it. Were you very much +frightened that other time you were lost, Reggie?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit. I knew we should get home all right, just the same as I +know it now."</p> + +<p>"But you had Ellen with you that other time," said Phyllis, "and +it wasn't night, either. I don't suppose a person would be so much +frightened in the daylight, but I don't like the dark. I never did like +it, and Nurse always leaves the light burning in the nursery till I get +to sleep. She thinks it's very silly, but Aunt Helen told her she must +always do it, so she does. Aunt Helen didn't like the dark either when +she was a little girl."</p> + +<p>"Well, it isn't so awfully dark now," said Reggie, encouragingly. +"The stars are very bright, and perhaps by and by the moon will come +up, and then it won't be dark at all. Anyhow, I'm here now, so you're +not alone, the way you are in the nursery when Nurse goes down to her +supper."</p> + +<p>"But you're only a little boy," objected Phyllis. "That isn't the same +thing as having somebody grown up."</p> + +<p>"I'm eight," said Reggie, modestly, "and I'm awfully strong. I don't +believe you have any idea how strong I am. Would you like to feel my +muscle?"</p> + +<p>Phyllis said she would, and Reggie forthwith seized her hand in such a +grip that she screamed with pain.</p> + +<p>"Don't ever do that again," she said, rubbing the aching fingers. "It +hurts."</p> + +<p>"Of course it does," said Reggie, proudly. "I've got more muscle than +Mother and Ellen, and Daddy says he's proud of it. Why, if a burglar, +or anything like that, happened to come along, I'd just—"</p> + +<p>"A burglar!" shrieked Phyllis. "Oh, there aren't any burglars here, are +there?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, of course there are not. I only said burglar, because I +couldn't think of anything else. I meant if a—mouse, or a—rat, or +anything like that came along—"</p> + +<p>"But I hate mice. I think I'm even more afraid of them than I am of +burglars. A mouse ran across Nurse's pillow once at home, and she +screamed so loud Aunt Helen thought the house was on fire. I think I'd +like to have you hold my hand if you don't mind, only don't squeeze it +the way you did before."</p> + +<p>Reggie grasped the little outstretched hand, and as he did so his manly +little heart swelled with pride.</p> + +<p>"Don't you be one bit afraid, Phyllis," he whispered. "Nothing's going +to happen, and if it does I'll take care of you all right. What makes +your hand so cold?"</p> + +<p>"I think my dress is rather thin," said Phyllis, with a shiver. "It's +only muslin, you see, and I haven't got my jacket. I thought it was +always warm in Egypt, even when it's winter at home."</p> + +<p>Reggie began to unbutton his jacket.</p> + +<p>"I guess you'd better put this on," he said. "My suit's a great deal +thicker than yours, and I've got all my winter flannels on. Mother +wouldn't let me leave them off when we got to Cairo, because she was +afraid I might take cold and have the croup. I'm apt to have the croup +when I take cold."</p> + +<p>"Then you mustn't take off your jacket now," said Phyllis, decidedly. +"No, no, Reggie, please." But Reggie had already taken it off, and was +wrapping it carefully about his little friend's shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I'm just boiling!" he announced. "I'm so hot that I'm almost in a +perspiration. Isn't it funny to think of its being January at home? +Daddy read in the paper that there was a big snow storm in New York the +other day. I wish I'd been there. Don't you love snow storms?"</p> + +<p>"Reggie," said Phyllis, irrelevantly, ignoring her friend's question, +"don't you think we were pretty bad to run away while Nurse and Ellen +were having their tea?"</p> + +<p>"I guess we were," Reggie admitted, gravely, "but then we only meant +to be gone a few minutes, and they were both such sillies. I'm sorry I +frightened Ellen, though."</p> + +<p>"I suppose they were both dreadfully frightened when they came back, +and we weren't there," said Phyllis, with a sigh. "Nurse will make a +terrible fuss, but your mother won't; she's so kind."</p> + +<p>"I wish she would," cried Reggie, more conscience-smitten by this last +remark of Phyllis's than by anything that had gone before. "It isn't +half so bad when people scold and make a fuss about things, the way +Ellen does, as when they just look sorry, and you know you've hurt +their feelings. I hate to hurt Mother's feelings, and I'm afraid she's +dreadfully frightened now, too. Oh, I do wish we hadn't done it!" +Reggie suddenly found it necessary to rub his eyes very hard with his +disengaged hand.</p> + +<p>"There isn't anybody but Nurse to be frightened about me," said +Phyllis, wistfully. "I wish I had a mother like yours. I wonder if my +father would be frightened if he knew about my being out here."</p> + +<p>"He'd come and look for us," said Reggie, confidently, "that's what +men always do. They never cry and go on about things like ladies. I'm +almost sure Daddy's out looking for us now. I wonder what time it is."</p> + +<p>"I think it must be nearly bedtime," said Phyllis, drowsily. "I'm +getting very sleepy, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"N—no," said Reggie, regretfully; "I'm not sleepy, it's too exciting. +If you are, though, why don't you go to sleep? It will make the time +pass so much quicker till they come for us."</p> + +<p>"I never went to sleep out of doors, and there isn't any place to lie +down," objected Phyllis.</p> + +<p>"Let's make a bed in the sand," said Reggie, with a sudden inspiration. +"It's nice and soft, and we can pile it up for a pillow. We often made +beds in the sand at York Harbor."</p> + +<p>During the next five minutes the children almost forgot their troubles +in the interest of making a bed in the soft, warm sand. When it was +finished Phyllis stretched herself at full length, and pronounced it +very comfortable.</p> + +<p>"Now you go to sleep, and I'll sit up and keep watch," said Reggie, +cheerfully, tucking the jacket around his little friend. "That's what +soldiers always have to do when there's a war, and if they fall asleep +at their post they have to be shot."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk about shooting," said Phyllis, with a shudder. "I hate +guns."</p> + +<p>"I don't, I love them, and I should think you would, too, on account of +your father's being a colonel. I'd rather be a soldier than anything +else in the world. Daddy says perhaps I may be one when I grow up, and +if I am I hope there will be a great many wars, so I can fight and do +brave things."</p> + +<p>"Can't people ever do brave things without going to wars and shooting?" +inquired Phyllis.</p> + +<p>"I don't know; I suppose some people can. Firemen are pretty brave. +If I can't be a soldier, I think I'll be a fireman. Your father was +awfully brave in South Africa. I heard that nice Mr. Ward, who was on +the ship, telling Daddy and Mother about him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know he was," said Phyllis. "He's got a V.C. and Aunt Helen's +very proud of him, because he's her brother. I don't suppose a very +brave man like that would care much about a little girl, do you, +especially the kind of a little girl that's afraid of guns?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose men generally like boys better than girls," was +Reggie's somewhat reluctant admission. "Mother says sometimes she +wishes I'd been a girl, but Daddy never does. I wish your father would +hurry and come home; I want to see him."</p> + +<p>Phyllis heaved a deep sigh, but said nothing, and Reggie also relapsed +into silence. Oh, how terribly still it was! There was not a sound to +be heard in all that vast wilderness of sand. It seemed to Reggie as if +he must shout aloud, to break the terrible stillness, but he reflected +that if he did it would only frighten Phyllis, and prevent her going +to sleep. He wished he could go to sleep himself, but that seemed +impossible. He had never been wider awake in his life, and besides, he +was beginning to feel decidedly chilly. The day had been oppressively +hot, but now that the sun had set, a cool breeze had sprung up, and was +blowing sharply over the desert. In spite of his assertion to Phyllis +that he was "boiling," he was conscious of uncomfortable little chills +running up and down his back.</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll get up and walk a little," he said to himself. "Sentinels +always walk up and down when they're keeping watch."</p> + +<p>But when he proposed this plan to Phyllis, she would not hear of it.</p> + +<p>"You'll go too far away," she protested, "and then I shall be so +frightened. I want you to stay right here and let me keep hold of your +hand."</p> + +<p>So Reggie yielded. He had uncomfortable forebodings of croup, but +he remembered something his father had once said to him about a +gentleman's never leaving a lady in trouble. It would be very +unpleasant to be laid up with an attack of croup, but if it came it +couldn't be helped, and in the meantime it was certainly his duty to +stay with Phyllis as long as she needed his protection. So he sat +still, holding his little friend's hand in his, and growing colder and +colder every minute, until at last the little fingers relaxed their +grasp, and Phyllis's regular breathing assured him that she was fast +asleep. Then Reggie gently released his hand, and began to think of +himself.</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll dig a big hole and bury myself in the sand," he +reflected, while his teeth chattered with cold. And he set to work to +such good purpose that in less than five minutes he was buried up to +his neck in the soft, yielding sand.</p> + +<p>The sand was still warm from the sun, which had been blazing down upon +it all day, and Reggie felt much more comfortable when he was well +covered. He even began to feel a little sleepy, but roused himself with +the dreadful recollection of what was done to soldiers who fell asleep +when they were on duty. Oh, how still it was! If only something would +happen—if only somebody would come to look for them! He wondered what +his father would say to him. Of course it was a dreadful thing to run +away from Ellen, and to take Phyllis with him. To be sure, Phyllis was +the older, but then she was only a girl, and girls were not supposed +to have as much sense as boys. Suppose nobody ever came for them. +Suppose they had to stay in that terrible desert till they starved. Oh, +why didn't Daddy come? All at once Reggie found that hot tears were +streaming down his cheeks, and that the big choking sobs would not be +kept back any longer.</p> + +<p>Bang! Bang! Two shots rang out sharp and clear on the still night air. +In a moment Reggie was sitting bolt upright staring about him in sleepy +bewilderment. He did not know that he had been to sleep at all, but he +must have been, for now the desert was flooded with moonlight, and it +was almost as bright as day. He could not see any people, but those +shots had certainly been fired from somewhere not far off.</p> + +<p>"Phyllis," he whispered, "Phyllis, are you awake?"</p> + +<p>A cold little hand grasped his convulsively, and a terrified little +voice gasped—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reggie, dear, it's guns; they're shooting—what shall we do?"</p> + +<p>"Let's keep very still, and perhaps they won't know we're here," he +advised, holding his friend's hand tight. Oddly enough, it never +occurred to either of them that the people who were shooting might be +friendly.</p> + +<p>"Would they—would they kill us if they found us, do you think?" +faltered Phyllis, with a little frightened sob.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. They would if they were cannibals, but I don't know +whether there are any cannibals in Egypt or not."</p> + +<p>Bang! Bang! Bang! Again the shots rang out, and this time they sounded +much nearer. At the same moment a large animal, with red eyes, dashed +past the terrified children, and disappeared in the shadow of a sand +hill. With a piercing shriek, Phyllis struggled to her feet, and began +to run, dragging her companion along with her, but she only ran a very +short distance, for at the sight of three figures, with guns on their +shoulders, suddenly looming into view, she uttered a second shriek, and +sank in a little heap at Reggie's feet. For one awful second Reggie +wavered, while his heart beat so fast that he could scarcely breathe. +His first instinct was to run, run as he had never done before in all +his life, but there was Phyllis, and she was a girl, and girls must be +protected.</p> + +<p>When three men, with guns over their shoulders, came hurrying up two +minutes later, they started back in amazement at the sight that met +their view. On the sand, lying face downward, was a little motionless +figure in a white muslin dress, and standing over it, with fists +clenched, and a look of fierce determination on his small, white face, +was a little boy in a blue sailor suit, minus a jacket.</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare to touch her—don't you dare to!" shouted Reggie, +stamping his foot in the sand, and in the excitement of the moment, +quite forgetting the fact that in all probability his enemies would not +understand a word of his language. "If you've got to shoot anybody you +can shoot me, but she's a girl, and if you touch her I'll—I'll kill +you."</p> + +<p>"By Jove, the kiddie's white!" exclaimed one of the three men, in +unmistakably English accents. "What on earth—"</p> + +<p>But at the sound of the English words Reggie's clenched fists had +suddenly dropped to his sides.</p> + +<p>"Why—why, you're English people!" he cried. "You're English or +Americans just like us."</p> + +<p>"To be sure we are English," said the man, laughing, "and will you have +the goodness to tell us what a young man of your size is doing out here +on the desert at this hour of the night?"</p> + +<p>"We're lost," Reggie explained, and it seemed to him that never before +had he heard any sound quite so pleasant as that Englishman's voice and +laugh. "We're staying at Mena House, and we came out to see the Sphinx, +but we couldn't find the way back, and—"</p> + +<p>But here Reggie's reminiscences were cut short by the second of the +three men, who had dropped on his knees, in the sand, and was bending +anxiously over Phyllis, who still lay quite motionless, with closed +eyes.</p> + +<p>"It's a little girl, Jim," he said, "and she has fainted. Give me your +flask."</p> + +<p>The man called Jim produced from his pocket a small silver flask which +he handed to his friend, and the stranger proceeded to pour a few +drops of its contents between Phyllis's lips. Reggie—who had seen his +mother faint on several occasions—was not as much frightened as might +otherwise have been the case, and watched the proceedings of his new +friends with deep interest. He already felt unlimited confidence in +the two broad-shouldered young Englishmen, who both had such kind faces +and such pleasant voices.</p> + +<p>In a minute or two Phyllis opened her eyes, and lay gazing up into the +face of the gentleman who was bending over her, chafing her cold little +hands.</p> + +<p>"Did I get shot?" she inquired, in a faint, far away little voice.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," said the gentleman, smiling. "You're all right, and +as fit as possible. It was jackals we were trying to shoot, not little +girls."</p> + +<p>"We saw the jackal," cried Reggie, with a sudden recollection. "He ran +right past us, but we didn't know what he was. Isn't it a pity you +didn't get him?"</p> + +<p>"There speaks the true British sportsman," laughed the young man called +"Jim." "Are you hungry?" he added, with a sharp glance into Reggie's +tired little face.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said Reggie, "I think I'm pretty hungry; at least I feel +rather queer in my stomach. We haven't had anything to eat since +luncheon, and that's a good while ago. But—but—please excuse me, sir; +I'm not a British sportsman at all; I'm an American."</p> + +<p>"Well, British or American, you're a good sportsman all the same," +said the Englishman, laughing heartily. "It seems to me, the most +important thing to be done now is to give you something to take away +that queer feeling in your stomach. What do you say, Colonel, to taking +the kiddies off to the camp, and giving them a feed?"</p> + +<p>"An excellent idea," said his friend, who had in the meantime assisted +Phyllis to a sitting position, though he still kept an arm protectingly +around her. "The only trouble is their friends are probably frightened +out of their wits about them, and I suppose we ought to get them back +to civilization as soon as possible. Did I hear you say you were +staying at the Mena House, my boy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Reggie, eagerly, "and I think perhaps we had better go home +before we have any supper. I'm afraid my mother is very much frightened +about us."</p> + +<p>"All right," said the colonel, kindly. "Our camp is close by, and we +had intended spending another night on the desert, and going in to +Cairo to-morrow, but under the circumstances I think our wisest plan +will be to break camp, and make for Mena House to-night. It is only a +little after ten now. How long will it take us to reach Mena House +from here, Hassan?"</p> + +<p>The third man, who was not an Englishman, but an Arab guide, replied +that it would not take more than an hour with the camels, and he was +promptly despatched to fetch the animals—which were tethered not far +off—and to pack the two gentlemen's belongings.</p> + +<p>By this time Phyllis had quite recovered, though she still felt a +little giddy, and was glad to rest her head against the colonel's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Are we really going to ride on camels?" she inquired in a tone of deep +interest.</p> + +<p>"To be sure we are. My friend and I have been riding on camels for the +past two weeks, and you have no idea what good fun it is. You won't be +afraid, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Phyllis. "I've been wanting to ride on a camel ever +since we came to Egypt, but Mrs. Starr wouldn't let me. She says +perhaps my father will let me when he comes home, but she doesn't like +to take the responsibility. Do you know," she added, gazing wonderingly +up into the colonel's face, "you look ever so much like my father's +photograph?"</p> + +<p>"Do I indeed?" said the Englishman, smiling, and giving the little head +nestling so confidingly against him a kindly pat. "I have a little girl +of my own, God bless her, but she is far away in England. She must +be about your age, too, but you see, you are an American, and so your +father must be an American as well."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I'm not an American," Phyllis explained, her bright, wondering +eyes still fixed earnestly on the colonel's face. "Reggie is, but I'm +English, and I only came to Egypt last week. I came to see my father, +but when the steamer got to Alexandria he didn't come to meet us, and +Mr. Starr said Nurse and I had better go to Cairo. So we did, and +Mr. Starr went to find my father, but he had gone away camping, and +wouldn't be back for a week. So we stayed with the Starrs in Cairo, and +yesterday we all came to that hotel near where the Pyramids are, and +this afternoon Reggie and I ran away to see the Sphinx while Nurse and +Ellen were having their tea. It will be a week to-morrow since we came +off the steamer, and Mrs. Starr says she's quite sure my father will be +back very soon. You do look very, very much like his picture. Are you +sure you're really not my father, please?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid not," said the colonel, but he was looking very earnestly +into the little upturned face as he spoke, and there was a wondering, +half troubled expression in his eyes. "My little Phyllis is at home +with her aunt in England. I would give a good deal to have her out +here, but her aunt thinks the journey too long, and—"</p> + +<p>"Is her aunt's name Helen, and is her name Phyllis Willoughby?" +demanded Reggie, who had been listening to the conversation with +breathless interest.</p> + +<p>The colonel turned upon him in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Of course it is," he said, "but how in the world did you happen to +know it?"</p> + +<p>"Because we've been talking about you ever since we came to Egypt," +shouted Reggie, jumping up and down in his excitement. "Phyllis has +been worrying all the time for fear you'd be sorry she'd come, but I +said I knew you wouldn't. She's so pretty and jolly for a girl, that +you couldn't help liking her, especially as you're her father."</p> + +<p>"Phyllis," repeated the colonel, his blank astonishment giving place to +a sudden glad hope; "where is my little Phyllis? Not in Egypt, surely!"</p> + +<p>"She's right here," cried Reggie, ecstatically. "Her aunt sent her, +because she wanted to go to Greece, and she came on the same ship with +us. If your name's Colonel Willoughby, she's your little girl. Oh, +Phyllis, I told you he'd be glad—I knew he would! I say, isn't this +the most exciting adventure anybody ever had?"</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_Vb">CHAPTER V</h2> +</div> + + +<p>It was three days later, and Reggie was sitting up in bed doing a +picture puzzle. The attack of croup had been a sharp one, but the +worst was now over, although it had been decreed that the patient +should spend another day in bed before being allowed to go about the +usual business of life once more. Reggie had argued the subject long +and seriously with both his mother and Ellen, protesting that he had +never felt less like staying in bed in his life, but all his arguments +had proved unavailing, and had been finally quenched by his father's +remarking rather grimly, that he considered an attack of croup and +three days spent in bed, a very light punishment for nearly frightening +his mother into nervous prostration. After that Reggie was silent. +He was quite aware of the fact that he had been shockingly naughty, +and at the bottom of his heart was really very much ashamed of his +conduct, but at the same time it didn't seem quite fair that he should +be having all the blame and all the punishment, while Phyllis—who had +really been just as much to blame as himself—was treated as quite the +heroine of the hour, and went about with such a radiant expression of +countenance that he sometimes longed to slap her. There was no doubt in +Reggie's mind that Colonel Willoughby spoiled his little daughter much +more than was good for her.</p> + +<p>The picture puzzle was difficult, and not very interesting, and Reggie +pushed away the pieces impatiently, and lay down on his back, with a +grunt of disgust. Ellen looked up from her sewing.</p> + +<p>"Don't kick the bed-clothes off, Master Reggie," she admonished +severely; "you'll catch more cold if you do."</p> + +<p>"I'm not doing it," returned Reggie, "but if I did I couldn't catch +cold, because it's summer, and people never have colds in summer."</p> + +<p>"Don't they, though? Besides, it isn't summer at all, and you know it; +it's the second of February."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's summer here, anyhow, even if it's winter somewhere else. +I'm awfully hot. Can't I take off one of these blankets?"</p> + +<p>"No, you can't, and you know it very well. I should really think you'd +worried your poor mother enough already without wanting to worry her +more by taking another cold."</p> + +<p>Reggie winced. He was very fond of his mother, and he did not like to +think of the anxiety he had caused her.</p> + +<p>"Was Daddy frightened about us that night, too?" he inquired, curiously.</p> + +<p>"Well, I should rather say he was. Everybody was frightened out of +their senses, and with good reason, too. Suppose some of them black +heathens had carried you off, and you'd never seen anybody belonging to +you again?"</p> + +<p>"What did Nurse say about it?"</p> + +<p>"She used such language as I wouldn't demean myself by repeating," said +Ellen, pursing up her lips primly, and looking mysterious. "She's a +very high-tempered person, and when her temper's roused she isn't to be +trusted as to language."</p> + +<p>"Did she swear?" demanded Reggie in a tone of deep interest, and he +raised himself on his elbow, so as to be able to see the expression of +Ellen's face more distinctly.</p> + +<p>"Don't use such words, Master Reggie; little boys shouldn't talk about +swearing."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's what people do when they use language other people can't +repeat, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes, but not always. Miss Phyllis's nurse didn't swear, but +she—well, she said things she oughtn't to have, and Mrs. Starr and +Colonel Willoughby don't consider her the proper person to have the +care of children. Colonel Willoughby's looking for somebody to take her +place, and he's going to pay her passage back to England."</p> + +<p>This was an interesting piece of news, and Reggie pondered it for +several minutes in silence. Then he spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Everybody seems to like Phyllis very much, don't they?" he remarked +reflectively.</p> + +<p>"Certainly they do. Miss Phyllis is a very sweet little girl."</p> + +<p>Reggie gave the unoffending bed-clothes a vicious kick.</p> + +<p>"She ran away the same as I did," he said, in a rather aggrieved tone, +"and she was just as naughty, only she didn't have any mother to be +frightened about her, and her father wasn't frightened, because he +didn't know she was lost till after she was found. I don't suppose she +was punished a bit."</p> + +<p>"Well, no, she wasn't," Ellen was forced to admit. "I suppose they +thought she'd suffered enough through being so frightened, and I don't +believe Colonel Willoughby could bring himself to punish her if he +tried, for he seems to just about worship her."</p> + +<p>Reggie heaved a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how it feels to have people worship you," he remarked +thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>Ellen laughed in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess you ought to know," she said, "seeing the lot your +father and mother think about you."</p> + +<p>"Do you really believe they do?" Reggie demanded, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Do what?"</p> + +<p>"Wor—I mean think a lot about me?"</p> + +<p>But before Ellen could answer, the door was suddenly and +unceremoniously burst open, and Phyllis, her eyes fairly dancing with +happiness, came running into the room.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reggie," she cried joyfully, "I've had such a lovely time! Captain +Allerton took papa and me in to Cairo in his motor-car, and we've been +shopping."</p> + +<p>Reggie said nothing, but deliberately turned his back upon his +friend, and his face to the wall. Phyllis and Ellen gazed at him in +astonishment, and some of the brightness died out of Phyllis's face.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Reggie?" she inquired, anxiously; "does your head +ache?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Reggie, crossly.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to hear about what papa and I have been doing?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't."</p> + +<p>"Don't bother with him, Miss Phyllis," said Ellen, indignantly. "He's +been that cross and disagreeable all the morning there's no doing +anything with him. Come and let me take off your things, and you can +tell me all about it."</p> + +<p>But Phyllis was not so easily daunted. She drew nearer the bed, and +laid a brown paper package she had been carrying, with great pride, by +Reggie's side.</p> + +<p>"We bought you a present," she said, a little tremulously; "don't you +want to look at it? We hoped you would like it."</p> + +<p>Reggie turned partly around, and regarded the package with some +curiosity.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it's anything I want," he said, grudgingly. "Girls +never know the kind of things boys like."</p> + +<p>"But papa chose this one, and it's awfully pretty, it truly is." +Phyllis was almost in tears.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't give it to him at all if he's so rude," advised Ellen, with +an indignant glance at the obstinate little face on the pillow. "I +shall tell his father about him the minute he comes in."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, please don't do that!" cried Phyllis, in real distress.</p> + +<p>"He doesn't mean to be rude—you don't, do you, Reggie? You needn't +keep the present if you don't like it, but do please look at it."</p> + +<p>Reggie leaned over and drew the package towards him.</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll like it all right," he said, beginning to fumble at the +string. "I didn't mean to be rude, only I don't think it's exactly fair +for one person to go off for automobile rides when another person has +to have the nasty old croup, and stay in bed all day."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reggie, I'm so sorry!" cried the conscience-smitten Phyllis. +"I didn't know you'd mind. I wouldn't have gone if I had, I truly +wouldn't. Please don't be angry about it, and I'll stay and play with +you all the afternoon."</p> + +<p>Reggie was softened, but boy-like, he was not fond of showing his +feelings.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," he said, gruffly; "I don't mind, only—only I wish +you'd get me a pair of scissors to cut this old string. It feels as if +there was a book inside. I like books when they're interesting."</p> + +<p>"You'll love this one, I know you will," Phyllis assured him, her face +once more wreathed in smiles, as she flew to the bureau in search of +the required scissors. "Papa chose it because it's full of stories +about brave people who had wonderful adventures, and it's got such +lovely pictures in it."</p> + +<p>When the book was finally undone, Reggie's eyes fairly shone with +delight.</p> + +<p>"It's a dandy!" he exclaimed, past sorrows and vexations alike +forgotten in his interest in this new possession. "Look at that picture +of a man riding on an elephant, and here's one of some people fighting +Indians. I love books about brave people."</p> + +<p>"Of course you do," said Phyllis, simply; "I suppose all brave people +like to read about each other."</p> + +<p>"What brave people?" Reggie inquired, regarding his friend in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, you're one, of course. I suppose you're about as brave a boy as +ever lived."</p> + +<p>Reggie was fairly speechless with amazement for a moment, and then +he made use, I am sorry to say, of a very slang expression, which he +had been strictly forbidden ever to use. "Oh, come off!" he said, and +blushed scarlet.</p> + +<p>Phyllis did not know what "come off" meant, but she did know the +meaning of the look on Reggie's face, and her own astonishment was +increased in consequence.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course you are," she maintained. "Don't you know everybody's +talking about what you did the other night? Captain Allerton talked +about it in the motor-car. He said he wouldn't ever forget the way you +looked when you stood in front of him with your fists doubled up, and +said you'd kill him if he dared to touch me. He said it was the bravest +thing he ever saw anybody do. Papa said so, too, and he'd give anything +in the world to have a boy just like you, and—"</p> + +<p>"Look here, did your father really say that?" demanded Reggie. His eyes +were sparkling with excitement.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he did, he said it ever so many times, and he told me I ought +to be proud to have such a brave little boy for my friend. I think I +should be jealous, only he says he loves me better than any one else +in the world, and I'm going to stay out here in Egypt with him till +summer, and then he's going to take me back to England himself. He +doesn't think Aunt Helen ought to have let Nurse and me come out by +ourselves without knowing he would be able to meet us at the ship, and +he's written her a letter about it."</p> + +<p>"Do you think Daddy knows?" Reggie asked in a rather low voice.</p> + +<p>"Knows what?"</p> + +<p>"That thing about—about what your father and Captain Allerton said?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, and he's just as proud of you as they are. He was on the +terrace this morning when papa and I were there, and papa talked a +great deal to him about you. He said he hoped you would go into the +army when you grew up, because he was sure you would make a brave +soldier, and you can't think how pleased your father looked."</p> + +<p>"Did Daddy say anything?" Reggie appeared to be deeply absorbed in +examining a pattern in the bed-spread, for he did not raise his eyes as +he asked the question.</p> + +<p>"Not very much, but he smiled, and his eyes had such a proud look +in them. I think the thing he said was 'Oh, Reggie's a nice little +beggar,' but you can't think how much he liked it."</p> + +<p>Reggie swallowed hard two or three times, and there was something wet +on one of his eye-lashes, but all he said was:</p> + +<p>"That's all right. Now don't let's talk any more about that stuff. Get +the jackstraws, and we'll have a game before lunch. I guess I don't +mind staying in bed another day, after all, and—and, say, I'm awfully +sorry I was rude about the book."</p> + + +<p class="ph2">THE END</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p class="ph2">[Transcriber's Note: Inconsistent hyphenation left as printed.]</p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75482 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75482-h/images/cover.jpg b/75482-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1e2c5fa --- /dev/null +++ b/75482-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/75482-h/images/frontis.jpg b/75482-h/images/frontis.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bce4acd --- /dev/null +++ b/75482-h/images/frontis.jpg diff --git a/75482-h/images/illus1.jpg b/75482-h/images/illus1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc96169 --- /dev/null +++ b/75482-h/images/illus1.jpg diff --git a/75482-h/images/illus2.jpg b/75482-h/images/illus2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9c0dc7e --- /dev/null +++ b/75482-h/images/illus2.jpg diff --git a/75482-h/images/illus3.jpg b/75482-h/images/illus3.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9a6d036 --- /dev/null +++ b/75482-h/images/illus3.jpg diff --git a/75482-h/images/illus4.jpg b/75482-h/images/illus4.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d2155f1 --- /dev/null +++ b/75482-h/images/illus4.jpg diff --git a/75482-h/images/illus5.jpg b/75482-h/images/illus5.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2de3780 --- /dev/null +++ b/75482-h/images/illus5.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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