Part 20 (1/2)
”And I shall begin tomorrow,” declared Caryl with still greater dignity, and drawing herself to her full height. ”Aunt Sylvia says she'll try you. Now you'll be good, won't you?” she added anxiously. ”It's only for two hours a day, Viny.”
”I'll be good,” declared Viny, ”'strue's I live an' breeve.” Meanwhile the darkest of plans ran riot in her little black head.
”Heart's Delight--Heart's Delight!” sang Caryl's happy voice all that day; and like St. Patrick's poor imprisoned snake, she began to feel that to-morrow would never come.
But hours come and go, and Caryl awoke the next morning, the brightest, cheeriest morning that ever called a happy girl out of bed.
”Aunt Sylvia won't have many more days in that dark little room of hers,” she cried to herself, throwing on her clothes rapidly. ”Oh, dear, where ARE the pins? I can't bear to wait a minute any more than Viny, when I think of that dear lovely nest, and the bay-window, and all that suns.h.i.+ne. I'll always have it full of flowers, and the bird shall sing all the time, and--and--and--”
The rest was lost in a dash of cold water over the rosy face, and Caryl soon presented herself at her aunt's bedside.
”I'll do well enough while you are gone,” said her aunt, smiling up from the pillows into the bright face above hers. ”Now you're not to worry about me in the least, for you cannot do justice to yourself if your mind is troubled. Remember, Caryl, and be thorough in your efforts to teach your little pupils.”
”And Madam Grant is going to buy some of my panels and little plaques, I almost know,” cried Caryl, bustling around for her aunt's long woolen wrapper and her day slippers, ”for she told me she should want to see them some time. Then, Auntie--oh, then!”
The young girl in her eagerness climbed upon the old bed to lay her fresh young cheek against the pale thin one. How she longed to put brightness into the poor invalid's life!
”Remember,” said Aunt Sylvia lightly, to hide the tears in her voice, ”your fortune's to be made. Only be prompt and thorough, and put your whole mind to your work. That is the secret of success.”
”I will, Auntie, oh, I WILL!” cried Caryl happily, ”and Viny will do well, I guess,” she added, the gleeful tones dropping down with an anxious note.
”Viny will prove a capital little nurse, I expect,” said Miss Sylvia cheerfully; ”now the day won't wait, Caryl, so get your old auntie up.”
”My old auntie is just LOVELY,” cried the girl, hopping off from the bed, and flying around merrily, well pleased at last when the invalid was in her chair, to see a little faint, pink color stealing up the wan cheek.
”The best cap, Aunt Sylvia--the best cap!” she cried, running for the one with the fresh lavender ribbons.
”What an extravagant puss!” exclaimed Aunt Sylvia, willing to humor the gay little heart, and tapping her cheek as the young girl settled the cap on the lovely gray hair.
”Everything must be best to-day,” cried Caryl recklessly. ”It's all fresh and new and fine! All the world is made just for us.”
Maum Patty saw Caryl run down the dirty little brick path that served for all the lodgers in the old house as a walk to the broken-down gate, with her color-box under her arm, and her little roll of pictures in her hand, and heaved a sigh from her ample bosom.
”Dat chile can't make no fortin' like she's a-tinkin' of, but laws! let her try. Here, yer Viny, yer, be off up to de Missis' room. Scat now!
De pore lettle lamb,” she mourned, as her hopeful grandchild unwillingly dragged her recreant feet off to her duties, leaving her grandmother to pursue her reflections in peace, ”it mos' busts my heart to see her a-workin' an' de Missis keepin' up an' pretendin' she's as fine as a queen. 'Twarn't so in ole Patty's day. Den dar wos plenty-pies and turkeys. Lors, what stumpers! An' hull bar'ls o' flour, an' sugar, an' a creation sight of eberyting in de beyeutiful house, an' now look at dis ole sh.e.l.l!”
Maum Patty tossed her turban in intense scorn at each of the dark soot-begrimed walls of the place called kitchen.
”Missis ud feel more like folks,” she said at each disdainful scrutiny, ”an' like as not git well, ef we cud cut sticks inter anudder home. Ef de chile only CUD do it!”
She peered anxiously down the dirty little brick walk again, then fetched a still longer sigh.
”I don't darst to!” she declared in a mighty burst at last. ”I don't, cos wot ud keep us all from the pore-'us den. It's every speck I kin do ter keep along of de Miss an' Car'l an' take keer of 'em wi'dout a cent o' pay; I don't darst tech my stockin' bag in de bank.”
Maum Patty always spoke of her scanty savings deposited in the neighboring bank, in this way, fondly supposing them in the original condition in which ten years ago, she had taken them there for future s.h.i.+eld against sickness and old age.
Meantime the little black nurse had begun her work.
Peering around Miss Sylvia's half-closed door, Viny exclaimed to herself, ”Umph! she don't want me; guess she's a'readin' now. I'll git into Miss Ca's room an' try on all her clo'es an' pertend I'm makin'
calls, an' peek inter ebery single place whar I kin, an' I'll be a lady, an' dar sha'n't no one scold Viny.”