Part 17 (2/2)

CHAPTER II

But there was one person to whom Rosalind Mackenzie poured out all that was in her mind,--that was her ten-year-old sister, Nannie. In Nannie she found a ready and a sympathetic listener; moreover, in Nannie's mind there was no doubt, no hesitation in believing that if Rosalind only had that twenty pounds there would be nothing to keep her back, nothing to prevent her sailing on right ahead into the roseate realms of fame and glory! If only she had that twenty pounds!

Now Nannie undoubtedly had a very gay and jovial disposition. She was always ready for fun and excitement, and had no tendency or any desire to carve out a line for herself, as her brother and sister had both had before they had reached her age. Yet she had what was better in many people's eyes, a very tender heart and a very affectionate nature; and her tender heart was wrung and wrung again at the thought of her sister's unsatisfied longings and the great future that was being blighted, all for the want of twenty pounds.

Yet what could a little girl of ten years old do towards getting such a sum as that together? Just nothing! Why, if the sum was s.h.i.+llings instead of pounds, she would still find it utterly beyond her power and out of her grasp! She thought and she thought, but thinking did not help matters! She lay awake at night puzzling her little brain, but that did no good, and Nannie's face grew a good deal paler, and set her mother wondering if the house was unhealthy, or thinking that perhaps the air from the river was damp and injurious.

It was about this time that Yum-Yum, the pug which had been given to Nannie by one of her mother's friends two years before, suddenly became the person of the most importance in the household at Putney; for behold one fine morning when Nannie came down to breakfast, Yum-Yum presented her with three babies, three dear wee pugs, which sent Nannie into ecstasies and made her forget for a few days all about Rosalind's unsatisfied longings, and her craving after higher things than at present were attainable to her.

”You think they're real beauties, don't you, Father?” said Nannie anxiously.

”Yes, they are great beauties,” said Mr. Mackenzie, holding one little snub-nosed pug up and examining it closely.

”And what should you think that they are worth, Father?” Nannie asked.

”Worth? Oh! that would depend a good deal on how they turn out. Their pedigree is a very fair one; and at the end of six weeks or two months they might be worth three or four guineas apiece--more, for that matter.”

Nannie fairly gasped, and she clutched hold of her father's arm. ”Oh!

daddy dear,” she exclaimed, ”do you really, really think I might be able to get _any_ thing like that for them?”

”Oh! yes, I think so,” he answered, smiling at her earnestness. ”But, Nannie, why do you want this money so much? Have you set your mind on a watch and chain?”

”Oh! no, dear daddy,” she answered eagerly, ”it's not for myself at all; it's poor Rosalind I'm thinking of”--and forthwith she poured into her father's surprised but sympathetic ear all the story of Rosalind's artistic longings, her craving for better art-lessons, for all the good things that may be had for the sum of twenty pounds.

Long before the story came to an end Mr. Mackenzie had drawn his little daughter very closely to him, and I fancy he was thinking, when she came to the end of it, more of the goodness of his Nannie's heart than of the greatness of Rosalind's future.

”My Nannie,” he said tenderly, ”my generous, kind-hearted little woman!

Rosalind ought to love you dearly for----”

”Rosalind does love me dearly, daddy,” Nannie explained; ”only she can't help wanting to be a painter--it's in her, you know, and it's choking her. And Rosalind doesn't know a word about it. She wouldn't want me to sell Yummy's pups for her. Only you know, daddy, we can't keep three dogs besides Yummy; and we may just as well sell them as give them away, and then Rosalind would be able to have _some_ of the lessons that she wants so badly.”

Mr. Mackenzie smiled at Nannie's voluble information. ”Well, well, you shall sell the pups and make Rosalind happy,” he said; then after a moment added, ”You know, Nannie, that I am not rich--in fact, I am very poor, but I will make the sum up to ten pounds, and Rosalind can go on thus far, at all events.”

Well, a few weeks pa.s.sed over, and the secret was rigidly kept between Mr. Mackenzie and Nannie. More than once Mrs. Mackenzie grumbled at the expense and the trouble Yummy's three babies were in the kitchen, and one afternoon when she came in from Town, she said--”Oh, Nannie, Lady Gray would like to have one of Yummy's puppies. I told her I thought you would let her have first choice.”

”Then her ladys.h.i.+p must pay five guineas for it, my dear,” said Mr.

Mackenzie promptly. ”Nannie and I are going to sell the puppies this time.”

Mrs. Mackenzie rather lifted her eyebrows. ”Oh! if that is so,” she said, ”of course Lady Gray must stand on one side. But what are you going to do with the money, Nannie? Buy yourself a watch?”

”No, Mother, but----” and Nannie looked anxiously at her father, who quickly came to the rescue, and evaded the question--which at that moment was an awkward one, for Rosalind was present.

It is probable that Mr. Mackenzie gave his wife just a hint of what was a-foot, for she asked no more questions about the puppies, and made no further complaints of the extra food and milk which Yummy required at this time.

And in due course, after a good deal of correspondence through the columns of the _Queen_ and the _Exchange and Mart_, one by one the three little pugs went away from the house at Putney to homes of their own, and Nannie in return became the proud possessor of no fewer than eight golden sovereigns.

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