Nellie's Housekeeping Read online

  II.

  _A TALK WITH PAPA._

  MR. RANSOM had said that the family were not to wait tea for him, as hemight be late; but they were scarcely seated at the table when he camein and took his place with them.

  "Elinor," he said immediately, looking across the table at his wife, "Imet Mr. Bradford, and he told me he had seen you down on the beach withthe children. I told him he must be mistaken, as you were not fit forsuch a walk, but he insisted he was right. It is not possible you wereso imprudent, is it?"

  "Well, yes, if you will call it imprudence," answered Mrs. Ransom,smiling. "I do not feel that it has hurt me."

  "Your face tells whether it has hurt you or no," said her husband in avexed tone; "you look quite tired out: how could you do so?"

  "I wanted Carrie to have the walk, and I felt more able to go withher than to spare the nurse and take care of baby myself," answeredMrs. Ransom, trying to check farther questioning by a side glance atNellie's downcast face.

  But Mr. Ransom did not understand, or did not heed the look she gavehim.

  "And where was our steady little woman, Nellie?" he said. "I thoughtshe was to be trusted to take care of the other children at any time orin any place."

  "And so she is," said Mrs. Ransom, willing, if possible, to spareNellie any farther mortification, "but she was occupied this afternoon."

  "That's nonsense," exclaimed Mr. Ransom, with another vexed look athis wife's pale face; "Nellie could have had nothing to do of suchimportance that it must hinder her from helping you. Why did you notsend her?"

  "Papa," murmured poor Nellie, "I--mamma--I--please--it was all myfault. I--I was cross to Carrie. Please don't blame mamma."

  Nellie's humble, honest confession did not much mollify her father, whowas a quick-tempered man, rather apt to be sharp with his children ifany thing went wrong; but another pleading look from his wife checkedany very severe reproof, and in answer to her "I really think the walkdid not hurt me," he contented himself with saying shortly, "I don'tagree with you," and let the matter drop.

  No sooner was Nellie released from the tea-table than she was busyagain over her Bible and the slips of paper, quite lost to every thingelse around her. The children chattered away without disturbing her;and she did not even notice that papa and mamma, as they talked in lowtones on the other side of the room, were looking at her in a mannerwhich would have made it plain to an observer that she was the subjectof their conversation.

  By and by Daisy came to kiss her for good-night. She raised herhead slightly, and turned her cheek to her little sister, answeringpleasantly enough, but with an absent air, showing plainly that herthoughts were busy with something else.

  Daisy held strong and natural objections to this not over-civil mode ofreceiving her caress, and, drawing back her rosy lips from the upraisedcheek, said,--

  "No, I shan't kiss you that way. I want your mouf; it's not polite tostick up a cheek."

  An expression of impatience flitted over Nellie's face; but it was gonein an instant, and, dropping her pencil, she put both arms about Daisy,and gave her a hearty and affectionate kiss upon her puckered littlemouth.

  Daisy was satisfied, and ran off, but, pausing as she reached the door,she looked back at her sister and said,--

  "You're an awful busy girl these days, Nellie; the play is all gone outof you."

  Nellie smiled faintly, hardly heeding the words; but other eyes whichwere watching her thought also that she did indeed look as if "allthe play had gone out" of her. She returned to her work as Daisy lefther side, but even as she did so she drew herself up with a sigh, andpassed her hand wearily across her forehead.

  "It is time a stop was put to this," whispered her father, and mammaassented with a rather melancholy nod of her head.

  Not two minutes had passed when Daisy's little feet were heardpattering down the stairs again, and her glowing face appeared in theopen door.

  "Ruth says she can't put baby down to put me to bed," she proclaimedwith an unmistakable air of satisfaction in the circumstances whichmade it necessary for mother or sister to perform that office for her."Who wants to do it?" she added, looking from one to the other.

  Mrs. Ransom looked over at Nellie, as if expecting she would offer togo with Daisy; but the little girl paid no attention, did not even seemto hear the child.

  Mrs. Ransom rose and held out her hand to Daisy.

  "Nellie," said Mr. Ransom sharply, "are you going to let your mother goupstairs with Daisy?"

  Nellie started, and looked up confusedly.

  "Oh! I didn't know. Do you want me to, mamma? Couldn't Ruth put her tobed?" she said, showing that she had, indeed, not heard one word ofwhat had passed.

  "Ruth cannot leave the baby," said her mother; "but I do not want youto go unwillingly, Nellie. I would rather do it myself."

  "I am quite willing, mamma," and the tone of her voice showed no wantof readiness. "I did not know you were going. Come, Daisy, dear."

  But she could not refrain from a backward, longing look at her bookand papers as she left the room.

  She was not unkind or cross to her little sister while she was withher; far from it. She undressed her carefully and tenderly,--withrather more haste than Daisy thought well, perhaps, but doing for herall that was needful; and, if she were more silent than usual, that didnot trouble Daisy, _she_ could talk enough for both.

  But her thoughts were occupied with something quite different fromthe duty she had before her; she forgot one or two little things, andwould even have hurried Daisy into bed without hearing her say herprayers, but for the child's astonished reminder. This done, and Daisylaid snugly in her crib, she kissed her once more, and gladly escapeddownstairs. Daisy was never afraid to be left alone; besides, there wasthe nurse just in the next room.

  "Are you going back to that horrid writing?" asked Carrie, as Nellietook her seat at the table again.

  "I am going back to my writing," answered Nellie, dryly.

  Carrie looked, as she felt, disgusted. Papa and mamma had gone out onthe piazza; but mamma would not let her be in the evening air, and shewanted amusement within; and here was Nellie going back to that "horridwriting," which had occupied her so much for the last three days.

  Nellie had plainly neither time nor thought to bestow upon her; and shewandered restlessly and discontentedly about the room, fretting for"something to do."

  But a few minutes had passed when a loud thump sounded overhead; and ashriek followed, which rang through the house. There was no mistakingthe cause: Daisy had fallen out of bed, as Daisy was apt to do unlessshe were carefully guarded against it; and the catastrophe was oneof such frequent occurrence, and Daisy so seldom received injurytherefrom, that none of the family were much alarmed, save her mother.

  Mrs. Ransom ran upstairs, followed quickly by Nellie and Carrie, andmore slowly by her husband, who hoped and believed that Daisy had hadher usual good fortune, and accomplished her gymnastics without severeinjury to herself.

  It proved otherwise this time, however; for, although not seriouslyhurt, Daisy had a great bump on her forehead, which was fast swellingand turning black, and a scratch upon her arm; and she was disposed tomake much of her wounds and bruises, and to consider herself a greatlyafflicted martyr.

  How did it happen? Daisy should have been fastened in her little bed,so that she could not fall out.

  "Nellie," said Mrs. Ransom, as she held the sobbing child upon her lapand bathed the aching little head with warm water and arnica,--"Nellie,did you fasten up the side of the crib after you had put Daisy in bed?"

  "No, mamma, I don't believe I did," said conscience-stricken Nellie. "Idon't quite remember, but I am afraid I did not."

  "And why didn't you? You know she always rolls out, if it is not done,"said her mother.

  "I--I suppose I did not remember, mamma. I was thinking about somethingelse; and I was in such a hurry to go downstairs again. I am so sorry!"

  And she laid her hand penitently on that of Daisy, who was regardingher with an injured air, as one who was the cause of her misfortunes.

  "Yes, I am afraid that was it, Nellie," said Mrs. Ransom. "Your mindwas so taken up with something else that you could not give properattention to your little sister. I am sorry I did not come myself toput her to bed."

  It was the second time that day that Nellie might have been helpful toher mother, but she had only brought trouble upon her.

  She stood silent and mortified.

  Mr. Ransom took Daisy from her mother and laid her back in her crib,taking care that she was perfectly secured this time; then wentdownstairs. But Daisy was not to be consoled, unless mamma sat besideher and held her hand till she went to sleep; so Mrs. Ransom remainedwith her, dismissing Carrie also to bed.

  Nellie assisted her to undress, making very sure that nothing wasforgotten this time, and then returned to see if her mother was readyto go downstairs. But Daisy was most persistently wide awake; her fallhad roused her from her first sleep very thoroughly; and she found itso pleasant to have mamma sitting there beside her that she had no mindto let herself float off to the land of dreams, but kept constantlyexciting herself with such remarks as--

  "Mamma, the's a lot of tadpoles in the little pond."--"Mamma, the'slots of niggers in Newport; oh! I forgot, you told me not to sayniggers; I mean colored, black people."--"Mamma, when I'm big I'llbuy you a gold satin dress." Or suddenly rousing just as her motherthought she was dropping off to sleep, and putting the startlingquestion, "Mamma, if I was a bear, would you be my mamma?" and mammaunhappily replying "No," she immediately set up a dismal howl, whichtook some time to quiet.

  Finding this to be the state of affairs, and warned by her mother'suplifted finger not to come in the room, Nellie went downstairs again,meaning to return to her former occupation. But, to her surprise, theBible, which she remembered leaving open, was closed and laid aside,her papers all gone.

  "Why," she said, "who has meddled with my things, I wonder?"

  "I put them all away, Nellie," said her father.

  "I am going to write more, papa."

  "Not to-night. Put on your hat and come out with me for a little walk,"said Mr. Ransom.

  Nellie might have felt vexed at this decided interference with herwork; but the pleasure of a moonlight walk with papa quite made up forit, and she was speedily ready, and her hand in his.

  Mr. Ransom led her down upon the beach, Nellie half expecting all thetime some reproof for the neglect which had caused so much trouble; buther father uttered none, talking cheerfully and pleasantly on othersubjects.

  It was a beautiful evening. The gentle waves, shimmering and glancingin the moonlight, broke softly on the beach with a soothing, sleepysound; and the cool salt breeze which swept over them came pleasantlyto Nellie's flushed, hot cheeks and throbbing head. She and her fatherhad the beach pretty much to themselves at this hour; and, finding abroad, flat stone which offered a good resting-place, they sat downupon it, and watched the waves as they curled and rippled playfullyupon the white sands.

  "Now," thought Nellie, when they were seated side by side,--"now,surely, papa is going to find fault with me; and no wonder if he does.Twice to-day I've made such trouble for mamma, when I never meant to doa thing! I don't see what ailed me to-day. It has been a horrid day,and every thing has gone wrong."

  And Nellie really did not know, or perhaps I should say had notconsidered, what it was that had made every thing go wrong with her forthe greater part of the day.

  But no; again she was pleasantly disappointed. Papa talked on asbefore, and called her attention to the white sails of a ship gleamingfar off in the silver moonlight, and told her an interesting story of ashipwreck he had once witnessed on this coast.

  As they were on their way home, however, and when they had nearlyreached the house, Mr. Ransom said,--

  "Nellie, what is this you are so busy with, my daughter?"

  "What, my writing do you mean, papa?" asked Nellie, looking up at him.

  "Yes, some Bible lesson, is it not?"

  "Not just a lesson, papa," answered Nellie. "Miss Ashton gave us threeor four subjects to study over a little this summer, if we chose, andto find as many texts about as we could; but it is not a lesson, for weneed not do it unless we like, and have plenty of time."

  "Then it is not a task she set you?" said Mr. Ransom.

  "Oh, no, papa! not at all. She said she thought it would be a good planfor us to read a little history every day, or to take any other lessonour mammas liked, but she did not even first speak of this of herself;for Gracie Howard asked her to give us some subjects to hunt up textsabout, and then Miss Ashton said it would be a good plan for us tospend a little time at that if we liked, and she gave us four subjects.She said it would help to make us familiar with the Bible."

  "Yes," said Mr. Ransom musingly, and as if he had not heeded, if indeedhe had heard, the last sentence of her speech.

  "And I have such a long list, papa," continued Nellie, "that is, onthe first subject; and on the second I have a good many, too, but I amnot through with that. I had very few the day before yesterday; butthen, you know, Maggie Bradford came to see me, and she is doing it,too, and she had so many more than I had that I felt quite ashamed.Then the same afternoon I had a letter from Gracie Howard, and she toldme she had more than a hundred on the first, and nearly a hundred onthe second; so I felt I must hurry up, or maybe all the others would beahead of me. I've been busy all day to-day finding texts, and copyingthem."

  "Is that all you have done to-day?" asked Mr. Ransom.

  Nellie cannot gather from his tone whether he approves or not; butit seems to her quite impossible that he should not consider heroccupation most praiseworthy.

  "Oh, no, papa!" she answered. "I have done several things besides. Iread nearly twenty pages of my history twice over, and learned everyone of the dates; then I studied a page of Speller and Definer, and alesson in my French Phrase-book, and did four sums, and said '7 times'and '9 times' in the multiplication table, each four times over. 7'sand 9's are the hardest to remember, so I say those the oftenest. I didall those lessons and half an hour's sewing before I went to my texts;but I've been busy with those almost ever since."

  "And you have had no walk, no play, all day?" questioned Mr. Ransom.

  Nellie was not satisfied with her father's tone now; it did not by anymeans express approbation.

  "I have not played any, papa, but I had some exercise; for all the timeI was learning my French phrases, I was rolling the baby's wagon aroundthe gravel walk."

  "And it was pretty much the same thing yesterday, was it not?" said Mr.Ransom.

  "Well, yes, papa," rather faintly.

  "Nellie," said her father, "did you ever hear the old couplet, 'Allwork and no play makes Jack a dull boy'?"

  "Yes, papa," answered Nellie, half laughing, half reluctantly, as shebegan to fear that her father intended to interfere with her plans forstudy. "But am I 'a dull boy'?"

  "Neither 'dull' nor a 'boy,'" answered her father, playfully shakingthe little hand in his. "But I fear there is danger of the former,Nellie, if you go on taking so much 'work' and no 'play.' Miss Ashtondid not desire all this, if I understand you, my dear."

  "Oh, no, papa! I was just doing it of myself. Miss Ashton only said,if our papas and mammas did not object, she thought it would be wiserfor us to have a little lesson or reading every day. But you see,papa"--Nellie hesitated, and then came to a full stop.

  "Well?" said her father, encouragingly.

  "Papa, I seem to be so far behind all the girls of my age in our class.It makes me feel ashamed, and as if I must do all I could to catch upwith them."

  "I do not know," said Mr. Ransom. "It seems to me that a little girlwho keeps the head of her spelling, history, and geography classes forat least a fair share of the time, and who has taken more than oneprize for composition and steady, orderly conduct, has no need to feelashamed before her school-fellows."

  "Well, no, papa--but--but--somehow I am not so quick as the others. Igenerally know my lessons, and do keep my place in the classes about aswell as any one; but it takes me a great deal longer than it does mostof the others. Gracie Howard can learn in half the time that I can; socan Laura Middleton, Maggie Bradford, and 'most all the girls as old asI am, whom I know."

  "And probably they know them and remember them no better than myNellie," said her father.

  Mr. Ransom was not afraid of making his little daughter conceited orcareless by over-praise; she had not sufficient confidence in herselfor her own powers, and needed all the encouragement that could be givento her. Too much humility, rather than too little, was Nellie's snare.

  "Yes, papa," she answered. "I suppose I do _remember_ as well as any ofthe rest, and I seldom miss in my lessons; but I don't see why it isthat often when Miss Ashton asks us some question about a lesson thathas gone before, or about something that I know quite well, the wordsdo not seem to come to me very quick, and one of the others will answerbefore I can. Miss Ashton is very good about that, papa, and sometimesit seems as if she knew I was going to answer; for she will say,'Nellie, you know that, do you not, my dear?' and make the others waittill I can speak. But, papa, even then it makes me feel horridly, forit seems as if I was stupid not to be quick as the others, and I can'tbear to have them waiting for me to find my words. So I want to studyall I can, even out of school and in vacation."

  Nellie's voice shook, and her father saw in the moonlight that the eyesshe raised to him were full of tears.

  "And you think that all this extra study is going to help you, mylittle girl?" he said.

  "Why, yes, I thought it would, papa. I want to learn a great deal, for,oh, I would so like to be quick and clever, to study as fast and answeras well as Maggie, Gracie, or Lily! Please don't think I am vexed ifthe other children go above me in my classes, or that I am jealous,papa; I don't mean to be, but I would like to be very wise, and to knowa great deal."

  "I certainly shall not think you are envious of your schoolmates andplayfellows, my daughter, however far they may outstrip you, and papacan feel for you in your want of readiness and quickness of speech, forhe is troubled sometimes in the same way himself; but, Nellie, thisis a misfortune rather than a fault, and, though you would do well tocorrect it as far as you can, I do not know that you are taking theright way; and I am sure, my dear, that you have plainer and nearerduties just now."

  "You say that, papa, because I was disobliging to Carrie thisafternoon, and careless with dear little Daisy to-night, and I know itserves me right; but do you think it is not a very great duty for me toimprove myself all I can?"

  "Certainly, Nellie, I think it your duty to make the most of youradvantages, and that you should try to improve yourself as much as youcan at proper times and in proper places; but I do not think it wise orright that my little girl should spend the time that she needs for restor play in what is to her hard work and study. My child, you are doingnow four times as much as you should do, while at the same time you areforgetting or neglecting the little every-day duties that fall to you.Is it not so?"

  "I dare say you think so, papa, after to-day," answered Nellie, withquivering voice; "but I can try not to let myself be so taken up againwith my lessons, and then there will be no harm in it, will there?"

  "Have you felt very well, quite like yourself, during the last fewdays, Nellie?"

  "Well, no, sir," said Nellie, reluctantly. "Not quite. I feel rathertired every morning when I wake up, and my head aches a good deal 'mostall the time. And--and--I _don't_ feel quite like myself, for I feelcross and hateful, and I don't think I usually am very cross, papa."

  "And the harder you work, the worse you feel; is it not so?"

  "Well, I don't know, papa; but you do not think study makes my headache, or makes me cross, do you?"

  "Certainly I do, dear; too much study, too much work, which may makeNell a dull girl, if she does not take care. Your little mind hasbecome over-tired, Nellie; so has your little body; and health and eventemper must suffer."

  "I'll try not to be cross or careless again, papa," said Nellie,humbly. "And there is no need for me to play if I do not choose, isthere?"

  "Who gave you your health and good spirits, Nellie?"

  "Why, God, papa!"

  "And do you think it right, then, for you to do any thing whichdestroys or injures either?"

  "No, papa," more slowly still, as she saw his meaning.

  They had been standing for the last few moments at the foot of thepiazza steps, where mamma sat awaiting them; and now, stooping to kisshis thoughtful, sensible little daughter, Mr. Ransom said,--

  "We have had talk enough for to-night, Nellie; and it is past yourbed-time. Think over what we have said, and to-morrow I will talkto you again. Put texts and lessons quite out of your head for thepresent, and go to sleep as soon as you can. Good-night, my child."

  Nellie bade him good-night, and, kissing her mother also, obeyed, goingquietly and thoughtfully upstairs. That was nothing new for Nellie; buther mother's anxious ear did not fail to notice that, spite of the walkand talk with papa, her foot had not its usual spring and lightness.