“Being a bachelor whose housekeeper3 would leave if a child were foisted4 upon her care, I couldn’t consider taking her, housekeepers5 not growing upon every bush these days,” said Mr. Josiah Crump, a bald-headed pot-bellied old gentleman.
Ellen pictured a bush with housekeepers dangling6 from it, and wondered what such might be called.
But this fancy left her when Mr. Crump continued, “I always liked Rosanne and haven’t a thing against her daughter, but I never cared much for that artist husband.”
“Gerald North was a dear, a perfect dear,” spoke7 up pretty Mrs. Lauretta Barton; “I always liked him and so did Bobby.”
“No business sense; impractical,” Mr. Crump differed with her. “No man has any right to go off to war and get killed, leaving his family unprovided for; it makes it very awkward for them, and furnishes an unpleasant subject for the relatives to contemplate8. I don’t believe in having unpleasant subjects brought up when they might be avoided.”
“I don’t like unpleasant subjects myself,” sighed Mrs. Barton, “but they have to be faced when they are thrust upon you. I wish I could advise, or, indeed, assume the responsibility of the child myself, but in my delicate state of health it would be impossible; it would be entirely9 too great a task.”
“Delicate fiddlesticks!” broke in Miss Orinda Crump. “What you need, Lauretta, is some vital interest to take you out of yourself.”
“If only Bobby were living,” murmured Mrs. Barton.
“Which he isn’t,” pursued Miss Orinda, “and it doesn’t do you any good to brood over your loss, or to magnify every little ache and pain; you’ll end in a sanitarium.”
“But I do suffer; you don’t know,” complained Mrs. Barton plaintively10.
“From lack of exercise, rich food, and nothing to think of but your own self,” continued Miss Orinda. “If you had to hustle11 for your bread and butter, and turned your thoughts out instead of in, you’d find life more interesting; but when your hardest exercise is cutting off coupons12, and your chief interest is in germs, vitamines, and X-rays, what can you expect? As I see it, it’s up to you to adopt Ellen. Don’t you think so, Uncle Jo?”
“H’m, well, each must be his own judge in such matters,” replied Mr. Crump, leaning back in his chair and placing the tips of his fingers together. “I believe in freedom of thought, in——”
“Oh, do shut up, Jo,” said his sister, Mrs. Ed. Shirley, a stout13, comfortable, well-dressed woman. “Once you get off on one of your harangues14 there will be no stopping you. Of course every one knows that, with my big family, I couldn’t be expected to take the girl. It is as much as I can do to manage my own brood, so count me out, Orinda.”
“I don’t see why you all constitute me chairman of this meeting,” retorted Miss Orinda. “If age has any prerogative15, it isn’t up to me to preside.”
“Well, it’s your house, and you got us here,” returned Mrs. Shirley.
“To read you the letters from Dr. Markham and Mr. Barstow, that you might understand how imperative16 it is that Ellen should be provided for at once. You all have your own cars, so it was no effort for you to get here.”
“What is the matter with her Uncle Leonard? Why isn’t he here? He is nearer of kin1 than we are, and has no children,” Mrs. Shirley went on.
“He has sea duty for two years, and I don’t know where he is.”
“Well, there’s his wife.”
“She is with her people in California. She will stay till he gets back, and anyway——”
“Where are her father’s people? Why don’t they come forward?” Mr. Crump again came into the conversation.
“His parents are dead, and he was an only child. If he had any near relatives, we do not know where they are.”
“Humph! I understand. Well, as far as I can see we’d better put the girl in some good institution; there are plenty of them. What with taxes and the high cost of living it isn’t up to any of us to increase our expenses.”
Ellen smothered17 a little cry of dismay and clenched18 her hands. An institution! She choked back her tears. She must be brave. She must not let them see.
There was a moment’s complete silence. Mr. Crump sat with his hands clasped over his ample front, his eyes fixed19 on the ceiling, and an expression which said, “The oracle20 has spoken.” Mrs. Shirley looked across with a satisfied smile at Mrs. Barton, who lifted her hands and let them fall helplessly into her lap, intimating that there was nothing further to be said. Miss Orinda alone looked at Ellen, who sat with downcast eyes, clenched hands, and a heaving breast.
It was but for a moment that Miss Orinda regarded the girl; then she sprang to her feet. “Rosanne’s child shall not go to an institution!” she cried. “Take off your things, Ellen. You are going to live with me, and pray Heaven you will make a capable, useful woman.”
Ellen’s mute misery21 changed to an expression of intense relief. “Oh!” she breathed tremblingly.
“Well, that’s good of you, Rindy,” declared Mr. Crump, rising from his chair, “though, after all, you are the best fixed to give the girl a home. You live alone, own your own house, have a garden, and in this little place living can’t be as high as in the city.”
Orinda tossed her head and looked at him scornfully from under half-closed eyelids22. She gave a little bitter laugh. “Of course,” she replied.
“Well, Susan,” said Mr. Crump, turning to his sister, “we may as well be getting on; it’s right smart of a ride, you know. Good luck to you, Rindy. Good-by, little girl. You’ve got a good home, and I hope you’ll appreciate it.”
Ellen answered never a word, but stood in silence till all went out, Mrs. Barton drawing her handsome furs about her as she entered her shining car. She nodded and smiled her farewells as the car bowled off, following the less elegant one of Mr. Crump. Miss Orinda did not stop to watch them out of sight, but shut the door hard, came back into the parlor23, and stood for a moment in front of the Latrobe stove which heated the greater part of the small house.
“Well, that’s that,” she said at last. “If any one had told me this morning—— But, never mind. Maybe I’m a fool, but I’d rather be some kinds of a fool than a hide-bound, self-indulgent, cold-blooded skinflint. I rather imagine there have been worse fools in this room lately than I am. Come here, Ellen, and let’s take stock of each other, since we’re to be housemates.”
Ellen came readily. Miss Orinda held her off at arm’s length and regarded her steadily24. “You’re not much like the Crumps,” she said presently. “You get your hazel eyes from your mother, but your nose and mouth from the Norths. It’s just as well, for the Crumps aren’t much for looks usually.”
“Uncle Josiah isn’t,” said Ellen in a decided25 voice.
Miss Orinda smiled. “No, he’d never take a beauty prize, neither would Susan. Lauretta wasn’t a particularly pretty girl; she grew up to her looks somehow; and you may, too, for you haven’t a bad beginning, though no one could call you a prize beauty either. Lauretta is about my age, a little older in fact, but doesn’t look it. If I gaumed up my skin with creams and clays, and was forever fiddling26 with my hair, maybe I’d look younger, but life’s too short for me to spend it messing with my old carcass, and I haven’t an eye out for the men, so there you are.”
While she was speaking Ellen was taking in her own impressions. She didn’t guess her cousin’s age; she was about forty-five, but looked older, for she used no devices for increasing her charms. She wore her dark hair straight back from her forehead, which was too high for beauty; she had somewhat small, but clear, frank gray eyes, a large nose, a straight, thin-lipped mouth, long upper lip, decided chin, was of medium height, slender, and straight. Her good points were her finely-shaped head, well set, her figure, her perfect teeth, and clear, unblemished skin. Ellen had seen the gray eyes snap and the lips compress into a hard, decided line, and concluded that some might not find it easy to get along with Cousin Orinda Crump.
But then she had delivered her from that terror which had threatened,—life in a charitable institution. Tears gushed27 to Ellen’s eyes as she thought of this, for she was an emotional, sensitive little body. She gave a short gasping28 sob29. “I want to kiss you,” she faltered30.
Miss Orinda patted her on the shoulder. “There, there, child,” she soothed31, as Ellen put her arms around this deliverer from an unhappy fate. “I’m not much of a hugger, not having had anything but a cat to hug for a good many years, but if it would do you any good to kiss me, go ahead and do it, only it isn’t to become a daily habit, I warn you. We’ll get along all right if you’re a good child. You’ll turn out to be a real smart girl, I have no doubt, but I must warn you right this minute that you can’t expect either fine clothes or luxuries from me. We shall manage to get along somehow, I dare say, but I shall expect you to do your part.”
“Oh, I will, I will, Cousin Orinda,” promised Ellen after giving the other a much less ardent32 kiss than she desired to bestow33.
“Everybody in this town calls me Rindy Crump, and maybe you’d better call me Cousin Rindy. What name did you go by at home?”
“Mother always called me Ellen, but Daddy often called me Nelly or Nell.”
“Ellen it shall be; that’s a nice sensible name. Now then, Ellen, bring your bag up-stairs, and we’ll get your room ready. We’ll send for your trunk to-morrow.”
Up one flight of steps they went to a plain little room furnished with a bureau, a washstand, a small white iron bedstead, and two chairs, but there was an attempt at decoration, such as advertising34 calendars and Christmas cards tacked35 on the walls, and on the bureau a very hard pincushion. The mantel held two ornate glass vases and a small bisque figure of a kneeling Samuel. The small house contained but six rooms; this one was next to Miss Rindy’s; above was an attic36. All was neat and orderly.
“Now wash your face and hands,—the bathroom is at the back,—put on an apron37, and come down so I can show you about setting the table,” said Miss Rindy; “then you can help me get supper.” She closed the door and went out.
Ellen stood still for a moment and looked around. This was her home! Her lip trembled, her eyes filled. She dropped on her knees by the side of the bed and gave way to a fit of weeping. It was all so different from the home she had left, a dainty, artistic38 one. But she must be thankful for this one; she was. Her tears were half in regret for the things which were lost to her forever, half in thankfulness for that which was now provided.
However, it was not like Ellen to remain long in the depths. She was a courageous39 little soul, and the past few weeks had been desperate enough to show her that the ills we have sometimes can be so bad as to make us grateful for a chance to try out those we know not of; moreover, there was a call from below. She sprang to her feet, bathed her face and hands, and went down. If Miss Rindy noticed the traces of tears she made no comment.
“Haven’t you an apron?” she asked.
“I believe I have in my trunk,” answered Ellen doubtfully.
“Well, here, put on this one of mine,” said Miss Rindy, taking one down from a peg40 behind the door. “Aprons41 are most useful members of society, they cover a multitude of sins; they ought by rights to be called charities instead of aprons.”
The apron hung far below the hem2 of Ellen’s dress, but that didn’t matter, as Miss Rindy remarked. “It’s the fashion now to have floppy42 do-dabs switching about below the edge of a skirt,” she said. “Not that I hold to such silly styles. I thought Lauretta’s dress too silly and fussy43 for words. Come along, Ellen, I’ll show you where the dishes are. I don’t use tablecloths44; mats are much less trouble and more economical. They are in that table drawer.”
Ellen found them and laid them as directed; then the rest of the table was set and she viewed it approvingly. She liked the antique mahogany with the old blue-and-white china upon it, but still there was something missing. “Don’t you have flowers on the table?” she inquired. “We always did.”
“You did? Well, I don’t; I can’t be bothered with them.”
Ellen was silent for a moment before she asked, “Would you mind if I bothered with them?”
“Dear me, I don’t know where you’d find any. I don’t raise them; they’re like Lauretta, pretty but useless. But, pshaw! I don’t see what’s got into me, picking on Lauretta, though she always did rub me the wrong way.”
“Maybe I could find something,” persisted Ellen.
“You’re welcome to,” returned Miss Rindy from the pantry where she had gone.
Ellen opened the kitchen door and looked out. It wasn’t very promising45. A few green tomatoes still hung on the vines, a scraggy apple tree bore several apples at the top, and there was a row of cabbages left in a patch at the back. None of these offered anything like a bouquet46.
Ellen went down the brick walk to investigate farther, and presently discovered that a honeysuckle vine, which had strayed from the neighboring yard and hung over the fence, ventured to display a few late blossoming sprays of which Ellen took immediate47 possession. While doing this she observed that there was an open lot bordering on the property. It was easy to reach by climbing the low fence. An open lot always presented all sorts of possibilities, and this one, while somewhat disappointing, offered a sparse48 supply of blooms which Ellen was quick to gather,—two or three crimson49 clover-heads, a cluster of purple asters, yarrow more plentiful50, and two belated buttercups. With the honeysuckle these would do very well, and when at the last several frost-touched leaves of woodbine added more color, Ellen returned well pleased.
She ran into the kitchen. “Look, Cousin Rindy, look!” she cried.
Miss Rindy turned from her task of grating cheese. “Well, I declare,” she exclaimed. “They’re nothing but useless weeds, but they’re right pretty after all. You can get a tumbler out of the pantry to put them in.”
Ellen set her bouquet proudly in the center of the table on which Miss Rindy already had deposited a plate of warmed-over rolls, a dish of stewed51 apples, some plain gingerbread, and the grated cheese. There was a glass of milk for Ellen, tea for herself.
It was a simple meal, but there was enough of it, and Ellen rose from the table satisfied. She helped her cousin with the dishes, and then they sat down together in the parlor. The light from the big kerosene52 lamp picked out the gleam of the two or three ornately bound books on the marble-topped table, discovered the gilt53 frames of “A Yard of Roses” and the big chromo where woodeny waves threatened to engulf54 a tin-like ship.
“Now we’ll talk,” announced Miss Rindy, settling herself in a heavy haircloth-covered rocking-chair. “You will have to be provided with some work to do, Ellen. You can’t sit all the evening just holding your hands in that useless way. I don’t suppose you have anything just now, but you can hold this worsted for me and meantime tell me all about yourself. Of course I know in a general way, but I want more information, if you are going to live with me. You can tell me what you choose, and I will read between the lines.”
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1
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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3
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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foisted
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| 强迫接受，把…强加于( foist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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5
housekeepers
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| n.（女）管家( housekeeper的名词复数 ) | |
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6
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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7
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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8
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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9
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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hustle
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| v.推搡；竭力兜售或获取；催促；n.奔忙(碌) | |
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coupons
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| n.礼券( coupon的名词复数 )；优惠券；订货单；参赛表 | |
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14
harangues
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| n.高谈阔论的长篇演讲( harangue的名词复数 )v.高谈阔论( harangue的第三人称单数 ) | |
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prerogative
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| n.特权 | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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17
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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oracle
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| n.神谕，神谕处，预言 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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26
fiddling
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| 微小的 | |
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27
gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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31
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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35
tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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40
peg
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| n.木栓，木钉；vt.用木钉钉，用短桩固定 | |
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41
aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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42
floppy
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| adj.松软的，衰弱的 | |
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43
fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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44
tablecloths
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| n.桌布，台布( tablecloth的名词复数 ) | |
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45
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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46
bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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47
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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48
sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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49
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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50
plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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51
stewed
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| adj.焦虑不安的，烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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52
kerosene
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| n.(kerosine)煤油，火油 | |
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53
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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54
engulf
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| vt.吞没，吞食 | |
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