Part 20 (2/2)

Poor Debby! If she hadn't loved Katy so dearly, I think her patience must have given way. But she bore her trials meekly, except for an occasional grumble when alone with Bridget. Dr. Carr had to eat a great many queer things in those days. But he didn't mind, and as for the children, they enjoyed it. Dinner-time became quite exciting, when n.o.body could tell exactly what any dish on the table was made of. Dorry, who was a sort of Dr. Livingstone where strange articles of food were concerned, usually made the first experiment, and if he said that it was good, the rest followed suit.

After a while Katy grew wiser. She ceased teasing Debby to try new things, and the Carr family went back to plain roast and boiled, much to the advantage of all concerned. But then another series of experiments began. Katy got hold of a book upon ”The Stomach,” and was seized with a rage for wholesome food. She entreated Clover and the other children to give up sugar, and b.u.t.ter, and gravy, and pudding-sauce, and buckwheat cakes, and pies, and almost everything else that they particularly liked. Boiled rice seemed to her the most sensible dessert, and she kept the family on it until finally John and Dorry started a rebellion, and Dr. Carr was forced to interfere.

”My dear, you are overdoing it sadly,” he said, as Katy opened her book and prepared to explain her views; ”I am glad to have the children eat simple food--but really, boiled rice five times in a week is too much.”

Katy sighed, but submitted. Later, as the Spring came on, she had a fit of over-anxiousness, and was always sending Clover down to ask Debby if her bread was not burning, or if she was sure that the pickles were not fermenting in their jars? She also fidgeted the children about wearing india-rubbers, and keeping on their coats, and behaved altogether as if the cares of the world were on her shoulders.

But all these were but the natural mistakes of a beginner. Katy was too much in earnest not to improve. Month by month she learned how to manage a little better, and a little better still. Matters went on more smoothly. Her cares ceased to fret her. Dr. Carr watching the increasing brightness of her face and manner, felt that the experiment was a success. Nothing more was said about ”somebody else,” and Katy, sitting up stairs in her big chair, held the threads of the house firmly in her hands.

CHAPTER XII

TWO YEARS AFTERWARD

It was a pleasant morning in early June. A warm wind was rustling the trees, which were covered thickly with half-opened leaves, and looked like fountains of green spray thrown high into the air. Dr. Carr's front door stood wide open. Through the parlor window came the sound of piano practice, and on the steps, under the budding roses, sat a small figure, busily sewing.

This was Clover, little Clover still, though more than two years had pa.s.sed since we saw her last, and she was now over fourteen. Clover was never intended to be tall. Her eyes were as blue and sweet as ever, and her apple-blossom cheeks as pink. But the brown pig-tails were pinned up into a round knot, and the childish face had gained almost a womanly look. Old Mary declared that Miss Clover was getting quite young-ladyfied, and ”Miss Clover” was quite aware of the fact, and mightily pleased with it. It delighted her to turn up her hair; and she was very particular about having her dresses made to come below the tops of her boots. She had also left off ruffles, and wore narrow collars instead, and little cuffs with sleeve-b.u.t.tons to fasten them. These sleeve-b.u.t.tons, which were a present from Cousin Helen, Clover liked best of all her things. Papa said that he was sure she took them to bed with her, but of course that was only a joke, though she certainly was never seen without them in the daytime. She glanced frequently at these beloved b.u.t.tons as she sat sewing, and every now and then laid down her work to twist them into a better position, or give them an affectionate pat with her forefinger.

Pretty soon the side-gate swung open, and Philly came round the corner of the house. He had grown into a big boy. All his pretty baby curls were cut off, and his frocks had given place to jacket and trousers. In his hand he held something. What, Clover could not see.

”What's that?” she said, as he reached the steps.

”I'm going up stairs to ask Katy if these are ripe,” replied Phil, exhibiting some currants faintly streaked with red.

”Why, of course they're not ripe!” said Clover, putting one into her mouth. ”Can't you tell by the taste? They're as green as can be.”

”I don't care, if Katy says they're ripe I shall eat 'em,” answered Phil, defiantly, marching into the house.

”What did Philly want?” asked Elsie, opening the parlor door as Phil went up stairs.

”Only to know if the currants are ripe enough to eat.”

”How particular he always is about asking now!” said Elsie; ”he's afraid of another dose of salts.”

”I should think he would be,” replied Clover, laughing. ”Johnnie says she never was so scared in her life as when Papa called them, and they looked up, and saw him standing there with the bottle in one hand and a spoon in the other!”

”Yes,” went on Elsie, ”and you know Dorry held his in his mouth for ever so long, and then went round the corner of the house and spat it out!

Papa said he had a good mind to make him take another spoonful, but he remembered that after all Dorry had the bad taste a great deal longer than the others, so he didn't. I think it was an _awful_ punishment, don't you?”

”Yes, but it was a good one, for none of them have ever touched the green gooseberries since. Have you got through practising? It doesn't seem like an hour yet.”

”Oh, it isn't--it's only twenty-five minutes. But Katy told me not to sit more than half an hour at a time without getting up and running round to rest. I'm going to walk twice down to the gate, and twice back.

I promised her I would.” And Elsie set off, clapping her hands briskly before and behind her as she walked.

”Why--what is Bridget doing in Papa's room?” she asked, as she came back the second time. ”She's flapping things out of the window. Are the girls up there? I thought they were cleaning the dining-room.”

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