Mildred Keith Read online

  Chapter Third.

  "Lessons so dear, so fraught with holy truth As those her mother's faith shed on her youth."

  "NOW," said Mildred, taking up her sewing again, "I must work fast tomake up for lost time, for I've set my heart on finishing this dress ofAda's to-day."

  The words had scarcely left her lips when there came a loud crash andscream from the hall, followed by a sound of tumbling and rolling.

  Up sprang mother, aunt and sister, scattering scissors, thimbles andwork, and rushed toward the scene of commotion.

  They found the stairs, and Fan, who sat weeping half way up, drenchedwith water; while at the foot were scattered fragments of a largepitcher, Cyril lying among them half stunned and with the bloodstreaming from a cut in his head; Don gazing down upon him from thelanding and adding his mite to the confusion by screaming, "Oh! oh! oh!he's deaded! he's deaded!"

  "No, he ain't," said Cyril, slowly getting on his feet. "Mother, Ididn't mean to. Please don't let Milly scold us young ones. Oh, stopthis quick!" putting his hand to his head.

  "Yes, sonny, as soon as possible," said Mrs. Keith, taking his head inher hands and holding the lips of the wound together. "A basin of coldwater, Milly, quick! and aunt, there is sticking plaster in thework-table drawer. Hush Don; don't cry any more, Fan; Cyril isn't muchhurt and mother will soon make it all right."

  Her orders were promptly obeyed, the wound skillfully dressed, Fan's wetclothes changed, and then inquiry was made as to how it had allhappened.

  "Why--why," said Cyril, "you see Fan wanted to wash her hands; 'causeshe'd been diggin' in her garden and dey was all dirty, and dere wasn'tany water in the pitcher and we brung it down and got it full and I wascarryin' it up and my foot tripped and I fell down with it and knockedFan over cause she was behind me. And I couldn't help it. Could I, Don?"

  "No, you touldna help it," assented Don. "And Fan touldn't too."

  "And he's dot a bad hurt on his head," put in Fan pityingly.

  "Yes, he's punished enough, I think," said the mother, caressing him;"his intentions seem to have been good; but next time you want water,dears, come and tell mother or sister Milly."

  "There, the morning's gone," said Mildred, as bells and whistles begantheir usual announcement; "a full hour of it wasted, too, by the pranksof those children. I hope they've finished up the business for to-day!"

  Vain hope! inactivity was impossible to those restless spirits: theirsurplus energy must be worked off in some way.

  They had not been heard from for two hours and Mrs. Keith had justremarked that she feared it must be some mischief that was keeping themso quiet, when shrieks and wails from three infantile voices, comingfrom the second story, appealed strongly to the compassion of theirrelatives in the sitting-room.

  The call for help was responded to as promptly as on the previousoccasion. Mother, aunt, and sister flew to the rescue and on enteringthe room whence the sounds proceeded, found Fan locked in the wardrobeand the two boys seated in the lower drawer of the bureau which theirweight had caused to tip so far forward that they could not get outwithout assistance. A chair standing so near as to prevent the bureaufrom falling entirely to the floor, had probably saved them from aserious accident; but there they were, bent nearly double, legsdangling, vociferous screams issuing from their throats.

  It was the work of a moment for the laughing mother and aunt to lift upthe bureau and release the two rogues, while Mildred sprang to thewardrobe, unlocked it and took the sobbing Fan in her arms.

  "You poor dear, who fastened you in there?"

  "Cyril did. He said I stealed and must go to jail. And--and I was 'f'aidit would des tumble over; it shaked so when I tried to det out."

  "The naughty boy!" cried Mildred, flashing an indignant glance at him ashe and Don crept from the drawer, straightened themselves and stood uplooking very much abashed and ill at ease.

  "Mother, I do think Cyril ought to be punished."

  "I didn't hurt her," he muttered, hanging his head; "and I was goin' tolet her out 'fore long. And we didn't mean to tumble the bureau over.Did we Don?"

  "No; it dus went yight over its ownse'f," chimed in the little brother."Pease, mamma we's doin to be dood boys now."

  "You might have been very much hurt if the chair had not been where itwas," she said, composing her features and speaking with becominggravity, "I am very thankful for your escape, and you must never do suchthings again. Especially never lock each other into a wardrobe orcloset," she added sitting down, drawing Fan to her side and caressingher tenderly, while Miss Stanhope and Mildred restored the contents ofthe bureau drawers, which the boys had unceremoniously tossed upon thecarpet.

  "Why, mother?" queried the self-constituted jailor.

  "Because it is very dangerous. Your little sister might have beenfrightened into a fit or have died for want of air to breathe."

  Cyril's eyes dilated, then filled with tears as he seemed to see thelittle sister he loved so dearly lying before him white and cold anddead.

  "I won't ever, ever do it again," he said tremulously.

  "No, you must be Fan's big brave brother that she can trust to take careof her and shield her from harm. I don't believe my Cyril would be sucha mean coward as to hurt a little girl or anything smaller or weakerthan himself, except for that naughty 'didn't think!'"

  "But I didn't hurt her, mother."

  "Yes, my son, you hurt her feelings very much."

  He considered a moment. "Yes, I s'pose that's so," he said slowly, "Fan,I'll tell you; I'm real sorry; and you may be jailor now and lock me upin that wardrobe."

  "No, no! there must be no more such doings," quickly interposed mamma.

  "Dess I wouldn't do such sing!" said Fan, wiping away her tears with herchubby little hand.

  "What a room!" said Mildred, shutting the last bureau drawer and turningto look about her; "every chair out of place and turned on its side, thebed all tumbled and bits of paper scattered over the carpet."

  "Pick them up, children, and try to keep out of mischief for the rest ofthe day. I must go back to my sewing," Mrs. Keith said, following heraunt, who had already left the room.

  Mildred staid behind to assist in setting it to rights.

  "You naughty children! really I could almost enjoy spanking you allround," she exclaimed directly, as she came upon the fragments of adelicate china vase belonging to herself, and a valued letter from afriend torn into bits.

  "Milly," said Cyril solemnly, "s'pose we should get deaded some day;wouldn't you be sorry?"

  "Suppose I should get deaded," she retorted, "wouldn't you be sorry forspoiling my pretty things?"

  She was ashamed of her outburst nevertheless, and the child's wordshaunted her all the afternoon.

  It was evening; two candles burned on the sitting-room table, and besideit sat Mildred and her mother still busily plying their needles.

  The rest of the family were in bed and Miss Stanhope and the seamstresshad gone to their own homes hours ago.

  "My child, put up your work for to-night," said Mrs. Keith; "You arelooking weary and depressed; and no wonder, for you have had a hardday."

  "A busy day, mother; but not so hard as yours, because I have had a walkin the fresh air while you have been stitch, stitching from earlymorning till now. And if you don't forbid it I shall sit up and work aslong as you do. I consider it one of the eldest daughter's privileges toshare her mother's burdens."

  "My dear girl! you are a comfort to me! I thank God for you every day,"the mother said, looking at her with dewy eyes and a beautiful smile,"but because you are young and growing, you need more rest and sleepthan I do. So go, daughter, and never mind leaving me."

  "Mayn't I stay a little longer," pleaded the girl, "I want one of ournice confidential talks. O mother, I am so disgusted with myself! I wasvery angry with Cyril and Don to-day when I found they'd broken thatvase I valued so because you gave it to me as a birthday present; and itwas so pretty too--and torn up that sweet letter dear
Miss Grey wrote mejust before she died."

  "Indeed! I didn't know they had done such damage and I am very sorry foryour loss, dear!"

  "Yes, mother, I knew you would be; my loss of temper, though, was worsethan all. I do wish I knew how you contrive always to be so patient."

  "I'm afraid it's very often all on the outside," the mother answeredwith a slight smile. "But I find it a great help in bearing patientlywith the little every day worries, to think of them as sent, orpermitted, by my best Friend--One who never makes a mistake--for mygrowth in grace; for you know we grow strong by resistance."

  "Well, mother, I am constantly resolving that I will not give way to mytemper, and yet I keep on doing so; and I grow so discouraged and sodisgusted with myself. What shall I do?"

  "My child, watch and pray. Our sufficiency is of God. He is ourstrength. And do not look at yourself; try to forget self altogether in'looking unto Jesus;' get your mind and heart full of his lovely image,so full that there will be no room in it for aught else; and thus shallyou grow into His likeness."

  Mildred's eyes shone as she looked up into her mother's earnest face.

  "I am sure that must be the way," she said, low and feelingly, "and Iwill try it; for I do long to be like Him, mother; for He is indeed tome, 'the chiefest among ten thousand and the one altogether lovely!'"

  "Oh, how good He is to me!" ejaculated the mother, glad tears shining inher eyes: "that you might learn thus to know and love Him has been theburden of my prayer for you--for each of my dear children--since theyfirst saw the light."

  They worked on in silence for some minutes, then Mildred seeing a smileplaying about her mother's lips, asked what was the thought thatprovoked it.

  "A reminiscence of some of your infantile pranks," her mother answeredlaughing. "You should be forbearing with your little brother and sistersfor you were fully as mischievous as they are.

  "Before you could walk I caught you one day seated in the middle of thetable set for tea, your hand in the sugar bowl, your mouth full and yourface well besmeared.

  "You were a great climber and it was difficult to keep anything out ofyour way; and as soon as Rupert could creep he followed you into dangerand mischief; pulling things about, breaking, tearing, cutting, climbingfences and trees, and even getting out of windows on to roofs.

  "Besides, you had a perfect mania for tasting everything that couldpossibly be eaten or drunk--soap, candles, camphor, lye, medicineswhatever you could lay your hands on--till I was in constant fear foryour lives."

  "You poor, dear mother, what a time you must have had with us!"exclaimed the girl. "We can never hope to repay you for your patientlove and care."

  "My child, I have always felt that my darlings paid for their trouble asthey went along; their love has always been so sweet to me," Mrs. Keithanswered, cheerily. "And I can not tell you how much I enjoy the sweetsociety and confidence of my eldest daughter--the knowledge that she hasno secrets from me."

  "I have not, indeed," Mildred said, heartily, "as why should I? knowingas I do that my mother is my best and wisest, as well as dearest earthlyfriend."

  Then recalling the events of the morning she gave a laughing account ofher interview with Spencer Hall.

  "If I could contemplate the possibility of leaving you behind it wouldcertainly not be in his care," her mother said, joining in hermerriment, "and I am glad you have sense enough not to fancy him."

  "Truly I do not in the least; though many of the girls consider him agreat catch because of his father's wealth," said Mildred. "But really Idon't believe he meant anything, and I felt like showing him that Iunderstood that very well and resented his trifling; and wouldn't havebeen much better pleased if he had been in earnest."