A Little Florida Lady Part 12

"Well, never mind. I'll come the morning after."

"All right, don't forget."

"No, I'll be there right after breakfast."

Games were started at this juncture, and then came refreshments. Soon afterwards, the guests took their departure. The "Cherub" said in parting:

"We'll have a jolly time with the stilts, Beth. I've been wanting to teach somebody for a long time."

Laura and Beth had a merry time together until tea-time. Then, after tea, Laura's older sister, Florrie, told them stories. Beth was simply fascinated. She could listen forever, she thought, and not grow weary.

Florrie made her characters live by the magic of her voice and words.

Just before it was time for the children to retire, Florrie took down the Bible and read a chapter to them.

Then the children went up-stairs to bed. They had a pillow fight after they were in their night-dresses. Sad to relate, in the scuffle, their clothes were strewn around the room, and Beth carelessly failed to gather hers together again.

They talked in bed until Mrs. Corner called to them to stop. Laura soon fell asleep, but Beth's heart, again, grew heavy. She missed the good-night kiss from her mamma, and tears rose to her eyes. She tried not to sob for fear of awakening Laura. Minutes seemed hours to her.

She realized more than ever the depth of her love for her mother, and she resolved in future to be the best girl alive. That resolve somehow quieted her so that she fell asleep and forgot her heartache in pleasant dreams. She dreamed that it was the day after the morrow, and that Julia had come with stilts so high that they touched the clouds.

Beth walked on them without the least difficulty; then, all of a sudden, she dropped them, and found herself flying with the utmost ease. She wondered she had never tried it before; it was so very delightful to fly. But, suddenly, the clouds turned into smoke and fire. Beth awakened with a start. The room was very light, as light as if it was broad daylight.

Beth gave Laura a poke, "Laura, it must be late. See how light it is."

Laura jumped out of bed, and, running to one of the windows, raised the curtain. Both of the children cried out in fright then. Flames shot and curled to the very window of their room. Laura could not tell whether their house was on fire or not. She feared so, and the house next door was one ma.s.s of flames.

Beth sprang out of bed, too.

"Mamma, mamma," screamed Laura. n.o.body answered. "Come quick or we'll burn." Still only the crackling of the flames could be heard.

"They've forgotten us," cried Beth with chattering teeth. "Laura, you know the way down-stairs, don't you? Let's go."

"We must dress first," answered Laura.

Beth stamped her foot. "I'm not going to wait to dress. Besides, I don't know where my things are. Oh, why didn't I mind mamma and put them away carefully. Now they'll burn."

The more prudent Laura gathered up her clothes from a chair where she had laid them, and led the way into the hall. They found it pitch dark there.

Suddenly Laura stopped. "Oh, Beth, I can't let it burn."

"What will burn, Laura?"

"My beautiful new Easter hat. I must go for it."

"Laura Corner, you _must not_ go back for it. We ourselves might burn while you were getting it."

But Laura had thrust her clothes into Beth's unwilling arms, and was off like a flash to rescue her Easter hat. Beth did not know the way sufficiently well to go on by herself, and so, trembling, she awaited Laura's return.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Laura Corner in the treasured Easter hat.]

Laura was soon back, pressing the precious hat close to her side. Such treatment was likely to do it great damage, but, in her excitement, Laura did not stop to think of this.

Down-stairs a light shone in the parlor. Guided by its friendly beams, Laura led the way there. No one was within. The house was deserted but for the two trembling girls.

"Beth, G.o.d alone can help us," and Laura's face was almost as white as the Easter hat under her arm.

Beth's lip trembled. "He's so far away. I wish mamma were here."

"Beth, G.o.d will hear us if we pray. Get down on your knees beside me."

"I'd rather run out into the street," answered Beth, who always believed in action rather than words.

"You're a wicked little girl. My mamma says I must never go on the street without some grown-up person. So get on your knees this minute."

Beth meekly obeyed. Laura folded her hands. Beth imitated her.

"Begin," said Laura.

"Begin what?" and Beth's eyes were wide open from surprise; yes, and from fear, too.

"Why, to pray, of course."

"I'm not going to. You're the one who wanted to. Why don't you begin yourself?"

"I can't. I'm too scared. Go on, Beth, and pray."

"I--I don't know what to say. Would 'Now I lay me down to sleep,' do?"

"No, silly. We're not laying us down to sleep. It's a fire. G.o.d's to keep us from burning to death. So pray."

"I--I'm not going to," and Beth jumped to her feet.

Laura began crying: "You're very wicked, Beth Davenport, and we'll burn to death, and it'll all be your fault."

"We won't burn if you'll come with me into the street. I'm going anyway."

"Why, children, what are you doing here?" asked Mrs. Corner, coming into the parlor.

Laura rushed to her mamma and threw her arms around her neck.

"Oh, mamma, we thought you'd forgotten us, and would let us burn to death."

"Why, you poor little things. Of course, I hadn't forgotten you. Our house is not on fire. The fire is next door. We've been over there helping, and we thought we would not waken you unless there was danger of this house burning. They're getting the flames under control.

Charlie has been working with wet blankets to keep our roof from catching. Now, children, you must go back to bed. Come, I'll go up with you."

When the two were again in bed and alone, Beth said;

"Laura, you ought to want to make up for calling me wicked."

"I guess you aren't wicked, after all, for G.o.d didn't let us burn. I'm sorry, Beth."