A Sweet Little Maid by Amy Ella Blanchard (best historical fiction books of all time txt) 📕

"And you are coming to see us next winter," said Rock.

"And you will have mamma left, anyhow," said her mother, hugging her up close.

So among them all, the tears were dried; and before dinner was over, they were all laughing as joyously as ever.

The only excitement left was to watch for the210 arrival of Rock's papa and mamma, who were to come that evening.

In the meantime, while Rock and Florence were reading, Dimple heard Bubbles her Sunday lesson. She always taught her one of the hymns she had herself learned, and a Bible verse or two.

Bubbles was not very quick at learning the verses, but delighted in the hymns, and sang them with Dimple, with great vigor.

This afternoon, however, it was quite wearisome to Dimple, for her cry had given her a headache, and she cut the lesson very short so as to get back to Rock and Florence.

"I shouldn't like to be a teacher," she said, throwing herself down on the lounge.

"I should," said Florence. "I love my teacher at school dearly; she is the sweetest, dearest thing, we girls almost fight over her."

"Do you? How funny," said Dimple.

"Why, yes, we take her flowers, and candy, and big apples and oranges; sometimes her desk is full."

"I am afraid I shan't like my teacher," said Dimple.211

"Do you know her?"

"Yes, a little; she has been here to tea. She isn't so awful, and I should like her, perhaps, if I didn't know I had to go to school to her."

"Do you know many of the girls?"

"One or two. You saw that girl who sat in front of us at church, she is one."

"You will get used to it real soon," said Rock. "I felt just as you do before I went to school, and it is worse for a boy; the other boys just go for him, and I had a hard time for the first few weeks, but now I like it first-rate."

"It is the getting used to it, that I dread," sighed Dimple; "that has to come first."

"No," said Rock, "papa and mamma come first, and it is nearly time for them now; let's go on the front porch and watch."

"It is so sunny there," said Dimple.

"Not if we sit at the end. Come on."

So they went out and took up positions at the end of the porch.

"I want to see mamma and Gertrude, and all, awfully," said Florence, "but, indeed I hate to leave here," looking around. "I shall miss the trees, and flowers, and all the sweet things."212

"So shall I," said Rock. "What a good time we have had this summer."

"Yes. Haven't we?" said Dimple, looking sober.

"Don't talk about it any more," said Rock. "It makes my Cousin Eleanor feel bad."

This made Dimple smile, and presently they saw coming up the street a carriage, which they felt sure would stop.

They all ran down to the gate, and the carriage did draw up by the sidewalk, and Rock was the first to open the door of it, and in another minute was in his mother's arms.

Then they all went into the house, and made ready for tea.

All that evening Dimple sat with one arm around Florence; and, although Rock was so glad to see his mother, he said that he would have Dimple so short a time that he must sit by her, and the three children sat on the steps, Rock holding Dimple's hand and trying his best to cheer her up.

But a more doleful face than appeared at the breakfast table could not be found.

"You must get your Aunt Dora and Florence213 some nice flowers to take with them," said Mrs. Dallas to Dimple.

"My Aunt Dora! How queer that is, mamma. I have been wondering, is he Rock Hardy or Rock Dallas?"

"He is Rock Hardy."

"I never will get it straight," she said, as she went to get the flowers.

"Uncle Heath," she said, after she had laid the flowers in damp cotton, and put them in boxes, "you may be very happy, but I am not, and I wish you'd leave Rock with me."

He smiled as he looked down at her, and said, "I can't, dear child, but you shall see him often. Baltimore is not very far away."

"Well, I am much obliged to you for making a cousin of him," she said, as she turned away.

"Poor little girl," said he to her mother, "she takes this parting very much to heart."

"Yes," said her mother, "she has never had any very intimate friends, and her cousins have never paid her as long a visit as Florence has this time. As for Rock, he is the only boy she has ever liked at all, and he is a nice boy. You have quite a model son, Heath."214

"Yes, I think so too," said he.

At last the trunks were all off, Celestine was dressed in her traveling frock, a grey veil on her hat; the children thought her very stylish.

"Poor Rubina!" sighed Dimple, bravely trying to keep back the tears.

Rock had volunteered to take charge of the two kittens, so Jet and Marble were mewing in a basket.

"And poor little Nyxy, you will be lonely too," said Dimple, hiding her face in his furry coat.

"You will be sure to write to us, won't you Dimple," said Florence, "and tell all about school, and everything."

"I will," said Dimple, choking up.

"Don't cry," said both Rock and Florence, coaxingly.

"No, I will not, I made up my mind not to, because mamma might think I didn't love her," answered Dimple, while her tears slowly trickled down her cheeks.

At last all was ready,—doll, kittens, and boxes, and the good-byes were said. Bubbles and Dimple at the gate waved handkerchiefs as long as they could see the carriage.215

Then Dimple turned slowly into the house, unable to keep back the torrent of tears, and after she went into the library she buried her face in the sofa pillow, sobbing aloud; then she felt a pair of arms clasp her knees and saw two tearful black eyes looking up into her face, while Bubbles' caressing voice said, "Never min', Miss Dimple, I'se hyah."

Splendid Motor Cycle Stories
By LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON.
Author of "Boy Scout Series."
Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid