Sara, a Princess: The Story of a Noble Girl Part 11

"I had forgotten how delightful it is that children may be in a state of nature," she said. "Ah, Robare, how can we go back to those doll-childs at the hotel, with their so fine costumes, and so of-this-world-weary airs, now? You have no doll-houses, my infants, no fine toys that move by the machine-work within, no bicycles, no anything for play; what, then, does amuse you all the day's length in this most sleepy town?"

The children stared at her with round, puzzled eyes.

What did they find to amuse them? With the cliffs, and the sand, and sea, and the nice little lobster and clam basins they knew about; and the countless sh.e.l.ls for dishes, and fish-scales for jewellery, and kelp for carpets, and dulse and feathery sea-fern for decorations.

"Dear me!" cried Molly, "there's things enough; all we want is _time_. Here I've wasted a whole morning darning stockings and talking to you!"

The outburst that followed this _naive_ confession brought uneasy Sara to her sister's side; and with a hand on one of those restless, twitching little shoulders, she managed to keep her respectably quiet through the rest of the call.

As the guests went down the village street it was funny to hear their comments.

"It ees a most fine collection, all varieties and cla.s.sified most orderly," observed the professor, intent on the minerals.

"Such specimens! And impossible to keep in order!" broke out the young man, meaning something entirely different. "But the oldest is a rare one, and"--

"Ze oldest? Yes, but there be some vich are mos' rare of dose later ones, too. But"--

"The little feather head!" laughed madame out of her thought, oblivious of what had gone before, "but _jolie_ and bright"--

"Zat so bright on, it ees no feddar-head, Felicie; you mistake. That was the rusty, dull"--

"Rusty! Dull! That so brilliant bird of a child! what mean you, Leon?"

"Child? Who say child?" dazedly.

"Oh, stop, stop!" interposed their nephew, raising both hands, "don't have a family jar over nothing. Uncle's on geology, and auntie on babies; don't you see?" and the discussion ended good-naturedly in a laugh all around.

They came every day after that, during their lengthened stay of a week, and often the professor would press Sara into service to direct him in his search for treasures, while madame stayed with Molly and baby; and Morton took many a delightful sail in the yacht with Mr. Glendenning after bluefish or salmon.

Those were happy, plentiful days in the little cottage, for fresh fish or game was almost constantly on their table, while the overplus, sold to their richer friends, kept baby in milk, and all in necessary supplies.

Besides, madame's quick eyes soon penetrated into the real poverty behind the hospitable, self-respecting air of the little household, and she managed in many delicate ways to a.s.sist them.

Feeling instinctively that there must be no hint of remuneration to Sara for her really valuable services as guide to her husband, she struck up a trade in wild-flowers, delicate algae, and sh.e.l.ls with Molly, buying all that the child could bring her (and the little girl was famous for these findings), afterwards teaching her to mount them in exquisite designs on Bristol-board for possible future customers.

Morton, too, was paid a liberal percentage on fis.h.i.+ng-tackle, etc., so that among them all the wolf was kept decidedly at bay, and Sara felt every night like adding a special thanksgiving to her prayers, because she was not forced to ask a loan of Squire Scrantoun.

CHAPTER VII.

A TEA-PARTY.

Meanwhile, she was learning to systemize her time so as to make the most of it, and, given a fresh impetus in her studies by this new companions.h.i.+p, spent the days so busily she scarcely had time, till night laid her on her pillow, to wonder where father might be, and when he would return.

So far, with the exception of the storm which had proven so fatal to her mother, the season had been quite free from gales, or "breezes" as the fishermen call them; for with these hardy people a good-sized tornado is only a "stiffish breeze" usually.

But when these new, delightful friends went away, it seemed as if everything changed. Dull, foggy days, with fitful gusts, succeeded to the lovely month just gone, and the skies were leaden and threatening.

Then, too, little by little, the wolf began creeping towards their door, for Sara, in the large liberality of her nature, did not well know how to deny the eager wants of the children, so long as she had any means to gratify them; and was not so wise in h.o.a.rding against a rainy day as an older head might have been.

Still further, to add to her gloom, baby had a slight attack of measles, over which she worried more than was necessary; and, altogether, August was for her a blue month, with only two bright spots to recall.

One of these was when Morton, red and exultant, came lugging home a mammoth express package, with Molly, fish-knife in hand, dancing about him like some crazy Apache squaw about a war-captive, though she was only impatient to cut the cord.

When her wish was finally gratified, Sara's delighted eyes beheld two volumes she had long been wis.h.i.+ng for, and a pretty dress-pattern; Morton's caught sight of some tackle that fairly electrified him, with a suit of clothes better than he had ever owned before; Molly's darted with lightning speed to a neat jacket and hat, also a handsome herbarium book for her algae; while baby set up a squeal of joy at sight of some novel toys and picture-books, leaving Sara to the full appreciation of a dainty infant outfit below.

Of course these most acceptable gifts were from the Grandet party,--now in Boston,--who had proven themselves thus more constant than most "summer friends," and generous almost beyond belief, as Sara thought.

The other red-letter day was one when the whole family was invited to tea at Miss Prue's. They went early, as was the fas.h.i.+on in Killamet, Morton stiff and conscious in his new suit, and baby filled with undisguised admiration for his own new shoes, while both girls looked so unusually "dressed-up" in their Boston finery, that Miss Prue naturally concluded good Reuben Olmstead must have left his family well provided for during his absence, and had not the slightest idea how closely pressed they were for actual money.

They had been seated but a few moments, Morton gravely staring at the dragon-china with meekly folded hands, Molly tilted on the edge of her chair like a bird about to fly, and the baby on Sara's lap wide-eyed and inquiring, when Polly thought the quiet was growing oppressive, and broke out,--

"Pretty Poll! Pretty Poll! How d'ye do? Oh, you fools!" At which Molly ran over in a rippling little giggle, so infectious that every one had to join in.

Miss Prue turned to her with an indulgent smile.

"Bless her heart! It would be dull here if 'tweren't for Polly, wouldn't it? Let's see, I've a new game somewhere, from Boston; it's bits of rhyme and sc.r.a.ps of knowledge, I believe; I never played it, but perhaps you and Morton can make it out," and soon the two were seated, bending over a light stand, quite happy for the nonce.

Meanwhile, baby was so impressed with the dignity and solemnity of the occasion that he kept his round eyes fixed unwinkingly upon the parrot (who occasionally addressed a remark to him), until the weary lids closed, and he dropped his sleepy little head over against Sara's shoulder.

Then she and Miss Prue had a long, delightsome talk, in which she told her good friend all about the Grandet party, the order of the King's Daughters, those beautiful, impressive books of Hale's, and something-- not a great deal, for Sara was naturally reticent of her inner life--of the hopes and longings kindled by them in her soul.

As the kind old maid watched her n.o.ble, expressive face, and noted the clinging little figure in her arms, she sighed, wondering,--

"Is here to be another life-long sacrifice? Are these sparkling, youthful hopes to settle down into the dull, smouldering fires of duty-- a fire which will always boil the domestic kettle, and warm the family hearth, but never be a beacon-light on the hill of effort, to help the world onward?" Then she checked herself. "Is any life well lived, however humble, quite lost to the world? And does not G.o.d know better than I where to put her?" and thus ending her reflections, she turned with a brighter look to say,

"My dear, don't let _anything_ discourage you from carrying out your views! I believe this life of ours is like a flight of steps leading to a throne. When we have performed all that is required of us on the first step, we must go on and up But sometimes, alas! we will not do what we should, and have to be ordered back. Then how painfully slow seems the climb to our former position! But, if we can only always hear that 'Come up higher,' and keep steadily on, slowly it may be, so slowly the steps seem but an inch high, we will surely reach the throne in time--or in eternity."

Sara's luminous eyes rested intently on her face.

"The steps may not all be beautiful or easy," she breathed.

"No, nor will be, my dear. There is a little book of essays I have, and one is called 'The Gospel of Drudgery;' I want you to read it."

Miss Plunkett rose and stepped to the book-case on the opposite side of the room, being enjoined, sleepily, by Mistress Polly meanwhile, to "Come again, and don't be long!" When old Hester appeared in the doorway, to bob a courtesy, and announce,--

"Tea is served, Miss Prue."

Hester was a character in Killamet, and must be described.

She was a pure-blooded African of Guinea, who, when a wee child, was rescued from a slave-trader by Captain Plunkett, Miss Prue's father.

The poor little black baby's mother had died during the cruel march to the coast, and the little creature, become almost a skeleton, and looking more like a baby chimpanzee than anything human, was made a pet of by the crew on the homeward voyage, growing fat and saucy daily, so that when the captain presented her to his daughter, then an infant of two years, she was as cunning a specimen of a negro baby as one often sees.

Instantly the fair little Prudence took a great fancy to her, thinking her, doubtless, some new queer kind of doll; and from that time the two were almost inseparable companions.