A Modern Cinderella by Amanda Minnie Douglas (good short books .txt) 📕

/> "I am, I admit."

"Then you are a dolt if you don't go in and win."

"I asked her more than a year ago. She gave me friendship. We are simply good comrades in our work for the world."

"She doesn't look like a woman whose heart is buried in some one's grave."

"She has a foolish, insurmountable reason. I am a few years her junior," he said in a half satiric tone. "And I have a reason that escaped me then. She is rich and I am comparatively poor."

"Nonsense! There should never be anything but pure love between the man and the woman who are the complement of each other. What a fascinating picture you three made! And you both love the child. I'm glad she is going to have a chance with education. With those eyes she ought to be beyond the ordinary."

"Then she will be in good hands."

"Al--you are an idiot. Some day you will rue this shilly-shallying."

Dr. Richards' reply was an unmirthful laugh, as if he was not rueing the mischance all the time. But he was proud and would not go back of his word.


CHAPTER XIII

A NEW ATMOSPHERE

They came back to the sleepy grate fire. Miss Armitage said--"You must go to bed for you will have to be up early in the morning."

"I shall only stay a little while," as if she had been musing over her journey. "Fairy godmother why don't you come, too?"

"Well, you see I was not asked, I am outside of all this business."

The voice was on the verge of a touch of bitterness, though nature and endeavor had made it sweet.

"Why, that's funny. They did not know how much I should want you. I'll ask the doctor in the morning. Oh, I wonder if I shall like those little cousins?"

"No, dear, you must not speak of it. There is nothing for me to do. Sometime we will go to the city together and have a nice outing."

"Are you glad the doctor is going to be my guardian, and--about the fortune?"

"You couldn't have a better one."

"Can't women be guardians? But I'd rather have you for a fairy godmother. No one else in the whole wide world could be that, you know. For the one in the dream wasn't truly alive. I don't believe she could have taken care of a sick body. Oh you are so sweet! I love you! love you!"

Would the child always love her? She was coming to the crucial years. She was very fond and sincere now, but she had cause to be grateful. She knew so little of the world, she had a winsome charm that was unfolding every day, she would be attractive to others. Jane was her fervent admirer, Bridget adored her, the babies capered around when they saw her in a species of Indian dance.

Yes, she would win love, she would not be dependent on her alone. Would there come a time when she would flit from the wing of fairy godmother and find her only an ordinary friend?

There seemed a sudden dreariness in the world like a bright day clouding over. It ought not look so to a woman of five and thirty with health and prosperity and plenty of work that did interest her. Other orphan girls might appeal to her to make their lonely lives blossom with hope and happiness.

Yes, she must let her go with earnest wishes for her future. She would rejoice in whatever came to her and not ask all the fragrance of the sweet young soul. So she kissed Marilla a tender good-night.

There were tears in the child's eyes when she started on her journey. Mr. Lorimer met them at the station with a beautiful box of chocolates, and there was a pile of illustrated papers. She had so little idea of money that even now it was not to be weighed in the balance with fairy godmother.

They passed through pretty towns but autumn had stripped the gardens of their beauty. Even the clumps of evergreens on the lawns looked lonesome. She had never gone through a gloomy tunnel before and was a little frightened. Emerging from it the great city filled her with wonder.

Then they took a hack. Oh, how full of everything the streets were, pedestrians dodging this way and that, vehicles in a snarl and trolleys whizzing by. It was a miracle people did not get run over.

They reached their destination and Lorimer ushered them in a sort of ante room, taking her to a lady who rose to greet them.

"And so this is cousin Marion's little girl who has been motherless for years! We heard you were dead. If I had known you were living I should have come for you. We were very dear to each other but on her marriage she went away. I can't see that you resemble her much except that she was fair and had light curly hair, and how she did hate it!" laughed Mrs. Warren.

"I like it," rejoined Marilla.

"And she used to soap it and brush it and would never let it really curl; but it was a bed of waves. Oh, child! I'm glad to see you. I was very fond of your mother, and though our fortunes are not very large I suppose we can be thankful for them. It was a great surprise to me. You're hardly old enough to realize all its benefits."

Lorimer went to see when their turn would come. Mrs. Warren and the doctor talked about Marilla. Then they were summoned to a crowded room where men were signing papers and there was such a hum of talking it was like a swarm of bees.

Marilla held tightly to Mrs. Warren's hand. Dr. Richards was answering questions and a man seemed to verify them from books and papers. They had a corner to themselves. Then Marilla was questioned about the Home and her being bound-out and she had to declare she was the same little girl, that her mother and father were dead, that she had always lived at Newton.

Then some papers were signed and she was taken in a small room which was filled with tall cases and a great business desk where sat a sharp-eyed man. He wheeled around so suddenly that she started.

"Don't be frightened," he said. "Is Dr. Richards a relative? Do you live with him?"

"No, but he had been so good to her when Miss Armitage had taken her in so she need not go to the hospital. She had been bound-out but the family could not take care of her. Some one had just died."

"Would she like Dr. Richards for her guardian? Had any one told her she must have him?"

"Oh, I want him, I love him," and the flood of eager joy in her sweet face answered him as truly as the words.

He was curiously interested and drew her out a little further, charmed with her simplicity.

Then Doctor Richards had to sign the bond and they were dismissed. Mrs. Warren would take her home, and her guardian would come in the afternoon and take dinner with them and meet Mr. Warren.

There were two trolley rides, then a walk from the corner. The house was in a brick row up on the East side with a little park opposite, and the river only a block away.

The basement windows had tall iron bars that suggested a prison to the child. They ascended the high stoop and the hall door was flung open while a chorus of eager voices cried--

"Oh, is this the new cousin?"

"Yes, Marilla Bond. This is Edith, this is May and this is our baby Jessie--"

"We were afraid you wouldn't get here in time. We had begun our lunch--"

"Run back dears, we will be down in a minute."

They kissed Marilla with sweet heartiness that won her at once. Mrs. Warren took off her wrap and hat and they went down. How strange it was to have these girls smiling and expressing delight.

"You're going to keep her, mother?" declared Edith.

"Oh yes, as long as her guardian will let her stay. You will find her here when you come back."

"And wasn't it funny to have a fortune drop down on you? Mother could hardly believe it at first, and then we were so glad to find you."

Marilla glanced up with a smile, but she wanted to cry for very joy.

Then they kissed her again and ran off to school.

"Were there any children where you lived?"

"Not at Miss Armitage's. That was where I was ill. She took me in, but I had to go back to Mrs. Borden's when I was strong enough. And then an old lady died and I fainted again and the doctor said it was something with the heart, and they had to take a bigger girl. Then I went to Miss Armitage again. She is so dear and sweet. I want to stay there always."

"You poor child! You see we were in Western New York when your mother died and we didn't hear of it in a long while. We should not have let you go to that Home. Were they good to you?"

"Well, you see some of the children were not very good, and they only gave you so much to eat. Sometimes you felt real hungry. I tried to be good for I didn't like to be punished," she said naively. "You had to scrub floors and learn psalms, when you didn't get whipped. I liked the hymns, only they were not always sweet and pretty, and we went in school at nine and had one little recess. Then after dinner, and school until four, and if you missed you had to stay in. You sewed half an hour then and could play out of doors until six, then you had supper and went to bed."

"What kind of sewing was it?"

"Oh, you hemmed towels and sheets and pillow cases, and mended. The little girls couldn't, so you had to look after their things, and darn their stockings. On Saturday afternoon one of the teachers took you out walking but it was in the woods and the country. All the girls were _so_ glad when they were twelve or almost, so they could get away. Mrs. Johnson was very sharp."

"And the lady you went to live with?"

"Oh she was very nice; and her sister. There was a boy of five and twin babies--"

"You didn't have to take care of the babies?"

"Only to play with them and amuse them. They were very fat and Mrs. Borden didn't like me to lift them. Then I used to wheel them in their carriage. I liked that only when it was very cold--or hot. The stores were so pretty, and you met other girls. I used to read the books in the windows; Jack had lots of books. I used to show the pictures to the babies and tell them stories and they would laugh so, just as if they understood it all. They were very good and merry, but it was a long while before they could walk, they were so fat."

"How did she come to let you go?"

"It was one very hot day--and somehow I was so dreadfully tired all the time, I sat down on a stoop--it was