Aunt Kitty's Tales

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by Madame Guizot


  CHAPTER V.

  CECILLE.

  When Mrs. Wilmot joined us I told her how much I had been interested bythe young Cecille, and begged her to tell me all she knew of her.

  "That I will readily do," Mrs. Wilmot replied, "but the all is not much.She has been but a short time near us, for it was only late in the lastwinter, when the roads were full of snow and ice, that a stage full ofpassengers from B. was upset, not far from us. None were hurt but an oldlady, who had her arm broken. It was quite impossible for her tocontinue her journey, yet she seemed, I was afterwards told, muchdistressed at being compelled to remain. The pain occasioned by herremoval from the road to a neighboring house caused her to faint; andbefore she recovered her consciousness the surgeon had been called, andevery thing was in readiness for setting the arm. A little girl, who hadbeen travelling with her, stood weeping beside her, addressing her inFrench in the most plaintive and tender tones, and by the endearingtitle of 'mamma.' As the poor lady revived she spoke to this child inthe most rapid and energetic manner, while she repulsed the profferedassistance of the surgeon. She spoke in French, which no one presentunderstood, but it was evident from her manner that she was insisting onsomething which the poor child was vehemently, yet respectfully andtenderly opposing. At length the surgeon said, 'Your mamma, is wrong, mydear, to leave her arm so long unattended to. It is already swelling,and every minute's delay will make the operation more painful.' As heceased speaking the old lady turned to the child and said something withgreat energy. The little girl now, in a very hesitating and embarrassedmanner, explained that the lady whom, when speaking in English, shecalled grandmamma, did not want any thing done to her arm. 'She will diethen,' said the blunt but honest and kind-hearted Dr. Willis. The littlegirl wrung her hands in agony, and a groan for the first time burstfrom the lips of the old lady, showing that though she either could notor would not speak English, she understood it well. A sentence addressedto her by the child in the most imploring tone caused the tears tospring to her eyes. As Cecille,--for she was the child,--spoke to hergrandmother, she had drawn out a small embroidered purse. This actionrevealed to Dr. Willis the secret of the old lady's reluctance to haveany thing done to her arm. She was afraid to incur the expense of asurgical operation. The bluntest people become gentle when their kindlyfeelings are excited, and I have no doubt it was with great tendernessthat Dr. Willis addressed himself to Madame L'Estrange in his endeavorsto induce her to accept of assistance which, though necessary to herlife, she would have rejected from the fear that she could not pay forit. How he managed it I know not; but he did at length win her consent,to the almost frantic joy of Cecille.

  "A fractured limb is, you know, a very serious thing with an old person,and it was many weeks before Madame L'Estrange recovered from the feveroccasioned by hers. Dr. Willis saw that she was often painfully anxiouson some subject, and remembering the little purse, he was not long at aloss to conjecture the cause. Yet it was a subject on which he knew nothow to speak. It was no easy matter, you know, to say to a lady, 'I seethat you are very poor, and I would like to help you.'

  "One morning the doctor found Cecille weeping bitterly. With somesoothing and some questioning he gained her confidence, and found thatthe week's board paid that morning had nearly emptied the littlepurse--that her grandmother felt that they could not continue to live onthe poor widow, to whose house she had been carried, and where they hadsince remained, without the means of paying her,--yet that they knew notwhere or how to go. 'And what did you mean to do if you had not beenstopped here? Your money would not have supported you any longer inanother place,' said Dr. Willis. 'Oh sir! if we could only have got tosome large city, grandmamma says I could soon have made money enough forher and myself too.' 'You make money!' repeated the doctor withsurprise, looking at the delicate figure and soft white hands of thechild. 'What could you do?' 'I can do a great many things. I canembroider on muslin and silk--I can make pretty fancy boxes--I canpaint--and grandmamma thinks, with some practice, I could takeminiatures.' The doctor listened to this list of Cecille'saccomplishments and shook his head dejectedly. Had Cecille said shecould scrub and she could wash, he could have seen how money could bemade by her, but these fine lady works he had been accustomed to thinkonly so many ways of wasting time. Fortunately for our little Cecille,all persons did not consider them so unprofitable. The doctor called atour house after visiting Madame L'Estrange, and with his own mind fullof Cecille's sorrows, he repeated to me, in the presence of my children,what he had just heard. Clara scarcely allowed him to finish before sheexpressed a determination to have a muslin cape and a silk apronembroidered, a fancy box made, a picture painted, and a miniature eitherof Grace or herself taken. I begged, however, that before giving herorders she would calculate her means of paying for them. These meansamounted to five dollars a month, which her father had permitted her tospend as she pleased from the day she became ten years old. Clara soonfound that it would be long before this would remunerate Cecille forhalf the employment she was arranging for her. She looked at me indespair, and seemed half provoked when I smiled at her perplexity. 'ThenI cannot help her,' she exclaimed sorrowfully. 'Stay, stay, my dear,'said I, 'do not be so hasty in your conclusions. You may help her verymuch, though you cannot do every thing for her. How would you like totake lessons of Cecille, and learn to do these things for yourselfinstead of having them done for you?' 'Oh! I should like it above allthings, but will papa let me, do you think?' 'I have no doubt that yourpapa will not only let you, but be very much pleased if you choose todevote a part of your pocket-money to your own improvement. Yourallowance of five dollars a month will pay Cecille a fair price for somuch of her time as will enable her to teach you some one of heraccomplishments, and will leave you something for other pleasures too.'Clara was delighted with my proposal. I permitted Grace to join her inher lessons, and for ten dollars a quarter from each of them, Cecillespends two hours in their instruction on every Wednesday and Saturdaymorning. But this is not all she does. She works very industriously athome, and when her work is completed she brings the article to me, and Iforward it to a friend of mine in the city, who has hitherto been ableto dispose of whatever she has done to great advantage. In this way thislittle girl has for some months supported not only herself but herfeeble and aged grandmother."

  "Poor things," said I, "if this is all their support, I fear they mustoften want."

  "Indeed, I think you are mistaken. Their clothing is always neat, andthey appear to live comfortably."

  "Then," said I, "they must have some assistance from others; foraccording to your own account, the sum which Cecille receives from herpupils would amount in a year to only eighty dollars. She must gain asmuch more from other work to be able to pay even the most moderate boardfor two persons; and then what becomes of their other expenses?"

  "Ah! our Cecille, or rather her grandmother, is a better manager thanyou would be of her little funds," said Mrs. Wilmot, smiling. "They donot board, but hire from the widow Daly two rooms in her cottage. Forthese they pay only half of what Cecille receives from Clara and Grace.They keep no servant, but for a trifle obtain each day, from one of Mrs.Daly's daughters, an hour's assistance in putting every thing aroundthem into neat order. How they live, I know not; but I am sure Cecillecould not be so cheerful as she is, if her grandmother suffered anyserious want. Of one thing I am sure--they do not run in debt for anything; for Cecille, with many blushes and great timidity, begged heryoung pupils here to pay her by the month, as her grandmother hadengaged to pay her rent in that way, and would be very much distressedif she were obliged to be in debt, even for a single day."

 

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