Bessie and Her Friends

by Joanna H. Mathews

  XIII.

  _DISAPPOINTMENT._

  Bessie's high spirits had all flown away. The scene with Aunt Patty,and the fear that the weather would not allow Maggie and herself tocarry Uncle Ruthven's gift to blind Willie, on which pleasure, inspite of her father's warning, she had quite set her mind, were enoughto sadden that sensitive little heart. More than this, she was verymuch hurt at what Aunt Patty had said of her mother. _She_, thatdear, precious mamma, always so tender and devoted, so careful of herby night and day, to be so spoken of! No one else had ever dared tospeak so to mamma in her hearing, and she did not feel as if she couldforgive it. Poor little soul! she was very indignant, but she keptdown her anger, and all she had allowed herself to say had been, "Shewould not like to be blind herself a whole year; but she has not a bitof _symphethy_." At which long word mamma could not help smiling; butas she looked at the grieved face, she felt as if she could scarcelykeep her own patience.

  "Come here, Bessie," said Miss Rush, who was sitting by the window,"I have something to show you; see there," as Bessie climbed upon herlap. "A few moments since I saw a break in the clouds, and a bit ofblue sky peeping out. I did not call you right away, lest you shouldbe disappointed again; but the blue is spreading and spreading, so Ithink we may hope for a fine day, after all. And see, there is the sunstruggling through. Ah, I think you will have your walk with papa."

  Yes, there came the sun shining quite brightly now, and the pools ofwater on the sidewalk began to dance in his beams as if they weresaying, "How do you do, Mr. Sun? We are glad to see you after a week'sabsence, even though you do mean to make us disappear beneath yourwarm rays."

  Bessie watched for a few moments, and then ran to find Maggie, who hadgone up-stairs with mamma for a new story-book which Aunt Bessie hadpromised to read for them.

  "Maggie, Maggie!" she called from the foot of the stairs, "come andsee how the blue sky is coming out and how the sun is shining;" andas she spoke, Maggie ran along the upper hall, and came down, saying,dolefully,--

  "Oh, Bessie! I saw it up-stairs, and I went to the window to look, andthere's a great cloud coming over the sun. There, see! he's all gonenow. I just believe it is going to rain again."

  It was too true, and as the little girls ran to the front-door, andMaggie drew aside the lace which covered the large panes of glass inthe upper part, so that they might peep out, they saw that the blue skyhad disappeared, and a moment later, down splashed the heavy drops ofrain.

  Bessie felt a great choking in her throat, and Maggie said,impatiently, "It is _never_ going to clear up; I know it. It just rainsthis way to provoke poor children who want to go out."

  "Maggie, darling, who sends the rain?" came in Aunt Bessie's gentletone through the open parlor-door, and at the same moment a stern voicebehind the children said,--

  "You are very naughty, child. Do you remember that God hears you whenyou say such wicked words?"

  Both children turned with a start to see Mrs. Lawrence in hat andcloak, and with an enormous umbrella in her hand.

  "No," she said, severely, as poor frightened Maggie shrank before theglance of her eye, "you will not go out to-day, nor do you deserve it."

  Then Bessie's anger broke forth. "You are bad, you're cruel!" she said,stamping her foot, and with her face crimson with passion. "You wantpoor Willie to be blind all his life. You don't want him to be well,even when our Father--"

  What more she would have said will never be known, save by Him whoreads all hearts; for as these last two words passed her lips, shechecked herself, and rushing to Aunt Bessie, who had gone to theparlor-door at the sound of Mrs. Lawrence's voice, buried her face inthe folds of her dress.

  "Our Father!" Was she his little child now when in her fury and passionshe had forgotten that his holy eye rested upon her, when she wasgrieving and offending him? Such was the thought that had stoppedher, even as she poured forth those angry words. For one moment shestood with her face hidden, sending up a silent, hurried prayer to theGreat Helper, then turning to Aunt Patty, she said, with a touchingmeekness,--

  "Please forgive me, Aunt Patty. I didn't try hard enough that time; butI'll try not to do so again. The wicked passion came so quick;" andthen she hid her face once more against Miss Rush.

  Yes, the passion had come quickly, but it had been quickly conquered,and as Aunt Patty looked at her, these words came to her mind: "Greateris he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city;" and she stoodhumbled before this little child. Turning away without a word, sheopened the front-door and passed out, while Miss Rush led the childrenback to the parlor.

  Aunt Bessie's own eyes glistened as she lifted the sobbing child uponher lap, while Maggie stood beside her, holding Bessie's hand in oneof her own, and with her pocket-handkerchief wiping the tears thatstreamed from her little sister's eyes.

  "Oh, it has been such a bad day, and we thought it was going to be sucha nice one, didn't we?" said Bessie. "We were so very glad when we wokeup this morning, and we have had such very _misable_ times all day, andnow I was so naughty. And I did ask for help to be good, too, thismorning. Aunt Bessie, why didn't it come?"

  "I think it did come, darling," said Aunt Bessie. "If it had not, youcould not have conquered yourself as you did the moment you rememberedyou were displeasing your heavenly Father. If you forgot for a moment,and your temper overcame you, I think he knew how you had struggledwith it this morning, and so pitied and forgave, sending the grace andstrength you needed as soon as you saw your own want of it."

  "It's all Aunt Patty's fault, anyhow," said Maggie. "She provoked us,hateful old thing! I know I ought not to say that about the rain, AuntBessie, 'cause it's God's rain, and he can send it if he chooses; butit was not her business to meddle about, and I am a great deal moresorry for your speaking so kind than for all the scolding. I justwish--I wish--"

  "I would not wish any bad wishes for Aunt Patty, dear," said Miss Rush."That will not help any of us to feel better."

  "I don't know about that," said Maggie, gravely shaking her head. "Ithink I'd feel more comfortable in my mind if I wished something abouther. I think I'll have to do it, Aunt Bessie."

  "Then wish only that she were a little more amiable, or did not speakquite so sharply," said Miss Rush, smiling at Maggie's earnestness.

  "Oh, pooh! that's no good," said Maggie. "She never will learn tobehave herself. I'll tell you, I just wish she was a Lot's wife."

  "Lot's wife?" said Miss Rush.

  "I mean Lot's wife after she 'came a pillar of salt, and then maybeshe'd be all soaked away in this pouring rain, and no more left of herto come back again and bother us."

  There was never any telling where Maggie's ideas would carry her, andat the thought of the droll fate she had imagined for Aunt Patty, MissRush fairly laughed outright, and even Bessie smiled, after which shesaid she would go up-stairs and talk a little to her mother, whichalways did her good when she was in trouble.

  This shower proved the last of the rain for that day, and by twelveo'clock the clouds had all rolled away and the pavements were dryingrapidly, giving fresh hope to Maggie and Bessie that they would be ableto go over to the policeman's house; but before that Aunt Patty hadreturned. She was very silent, almost sad, and the many troubled looksshe cast towards the little girls made Mrs. Bradford think that she wassorry for her unkindness of the morning.

  This was so, but there was more than that to trouble the old lady,for her errand to Dr. Dawson had been fruitless. When she reached hishouse, he was out, but she sat down to wait for him. He soon came inand without waiting for her to speak, told her that, having an hour tospare, he had just been up to the police-station to give Richards thegood news.

  So it was too late after all, for now that the policeman knew of hergift, Mrs. Lawrence could not make up her mind to ask it back. Thenthe doctor asked her if she had any further business with him, to whichshe answered "No," and walked away, leaving him to think what a veryodd old lady she was, and to say indignantly that he believed "she hadn
ot trusted him, and had come to see that he kept faith with her."

  "Bradford," said Mr. Stanton, as he stood in his brother-in-law'soffice that morning, "those dear little girls of yours have put me toshame with their lively, earnest desire to do good to others. Herehave I been leading this lazy, useless life ever since I came home,looking only to my own comfort and happiness; and in my want of thoughtfor others scarcely deserving the overflowing share of both which hasfallen to me. Your little ones have given me a lesson in their innocentwish to extend to others the benefits which God has heaped upon them;now cannot you help me to put it into practice? I am still so much ofa stranger in my own city that I should scarcely know where to beginthe task of carrying help to those who need it; but you were always ahand to know the claims and deserts of the poor. I have, thank God, themeans and the time; can you show me where I can best spend them?"

  "Doubtless, my dear fellow," answered Mr. Bradford. "I think you arerather hard upon yourself; but I can show you where both time and moneycan be laid out with a certainty of doing good and bringing happinessto those who deserve them. Just now--But how far do your benevolentintentions go?"

  "Tell me the necessities of your _protegee_ or _protegees_," said Mr.Stanton, smiling, "and I will tell you how far I am inclined to satisfythem. I had not thought much about it, having just been roused to asense that it was time I was doing somewhat for the welfare of thosewho are not as well off as myself."

  "I was about to say," continued Mr. Bradford, "that at present I knowof no more worthy case than that of the father of the blind boy in whommy children are so much interested. If an honest, God-fearing heart,a trusting, cheerful, yet submissive spirit, can give him a claimupon our help and sympathy, he certainly possesses it. I have watchedhim and talked to him during the last few months with considerableinterest, and I honestly believe his troubles have not arisen throughany fault of his own, but through the dealings of Providence. He hasbeen sorely tried, poor fellow, and I should like to see him set rightonce more with the world, free from the pressure of debt, and able tosave his earnings for the comfort of his family. I had intended toundertake the payment of Dr. Dawson for the treatment of Willie's eyes,but since you have done this, I shall hand to Richards the sum I hadintended for that purpose. Whatever you may choose to add to this, willbe so much towards relieving him from his debt to this Schwitz."

  "And how much is that?" asked Mr. Stanton.

  Mr. Bradford named the sum, and after hearing all the circumstances,Mr. Stanton drew a check for the amount needed to pay the rest of thedebt to Dr. Schwitz, and gave it to his brother-in-law, asking him tohand it to the policeman with his own gift.

  "You had better come with us this afternoon, and see for yourself,"said Mr. Bradford. "It is going to be fine, and I have promised thosedear little things that they shall carry their prize to the blindboy's home. I believe we are likely to find Richards there about threeo'clock, and I should like you to know him."

  So Mr. Stanton was persuaded; and as Maggie and Bessie were watchingeagerly from the window for the first glimpse of papa, they saw himcoming up the street with Uncle Ruthven.

  When they were ready to go, those three precious notes, the priceof Willie's sight, were brought by Maggie to her father, with manyprayers that he would take the best of care of them. She was notsatisfied till she had seen them in his pocket-book, where she herselfsqueezed them into the smallest possible corner, next thrusting thepocket-book into the very depths of his pockets, and ramming in hishandkerchief on top of that, "to be sure to keep it all safe."

  But there was a sore disappointment in store for these poor children.As they were leaving the house, and before Mr. Bradford had closedthe door behind them, who should appear at the foot of the steps butSergeant Richards himself, with his broad, honest face in a glow ofhappiness and content.

  "Ah! Richards, how are you?" said Mr. Bradford.

  "At your service, sir," answered the policeman, politely touching hiscap. "I just came round to say a word to you, but I see you are goingout. I sha'n't detain you two moments, though, if you could spare methat."

  "Willingly," said Mr. Bradford. "We were on our way to your house, butour errand will keep;" and he led the way back to the parlor, followedby the whole party.

  Mrs. Bradford and Miss Rush were there also, just ready to go out;while Aunt Patty sat in the library, where every word that passed inthe front room must reach her ears.

  "No, I'll not sit down, thank you, sir," said the policeman, "andI'll not keep you long. You have been so kind to me, and taken suchan interest in all my difficulties, that I felt as if I must comeright up and tell you of the good fortune, or, I should say, thekind Providence, which has fallen to me. I have been furnished withthe means to pay my debt to Dr. Schwitz; and more, thank God! morethan this, Dr. Dawson has received the amount of his charge for theoperation on Willie's eyes. I shall be able to hold up my head oncemore, and that with the chance of my boy having his sight again."

  "And how has this come about?" asked Mr. Bradford.

  "I cannot say, sir. Some unknown friend has done it all; but who, Iknow no more than yourself, perhaps not so much;" and the policemanlooked searchingly into Mr. Bradford's face.

  "And I know absolutely nothing," said the gentleman, smiling. "I see,Richards, you thought I had some hand in it, and expected to find meout; but I assure you, it is not my doing. These little girls of minehad, through the kindness of their uncle, hoped to place in your handsthe sum needed for Dr. Dawson, and it was for this purpose that we wereon our way to your house; but you say some one has been beforehand withus."

  "That's so, sir," said Richards; "but none the less am I most gratefulto you and the little ladies and this kind gentleman for your generousintentions. I am sure I don't know what I have done that the Lordshould raise me up such friends. But it is most strange as to who couldhave done this, sir, and about that old lady."

  "What old lady?" asked Mr. Bradford.

  "Why, sir, she who either has done this or has been sent by some oneelse. If I don't keep you too long, I should just like to tell you whatI know."

  "Not at all," said Mr. Bradford. "Let us have the story."

  "Yesterday morning," said the policeman, "Mrs. Granby was sitting bythe window, when she saw an old lady going to 'most all the houses,and seeming to be asking her way or inquiring for some one. So Mrs.Granby puts out her head and asks if she was looking for any one. 'Iwant Mrs. Richards, the policeman's wife,' says the old lady. Mrs.Granby told her that was the place and opens the door for her. Well,she walked in, but a stranger she was, to be sure; neither my wife norMrs. Granby ever set eyes on her before, and they did not know what tomake of her. All sorts of questions she asked, and in a way Mary didnot like at all, never telling who she was or what she came for. Well,after a while she went away, but never letting on what she had comefor, and Mrs. Granby and Mary set it down that it was only for spyingand meddling. But last night when I took up the Bible to read a chapterbefore we went to bed, out drops a sealed packet with my name printedon it. I opened it, and there, will you believe it, sir, were two onehundred dollar bills, and around them a slip of paper with the words,printed, too, 'Pay your debts.' No more, no less. You may know if wewere astonished, and as for my wife, she was even a bit frightened.After talking it over, we were sure it could have been no one but theold lady that had put it there. But who was she, and how did she knowso much of my affairs? Mrs. Granby said she remembered to have seen herfussing with the leaves of the Bible, sort of careless like, as it layupon the table, and she must have slipped it in then. But whether itwas her own gift, or whether she was sent by some one else, who doesnot care to be seen in the matter, I don't know. The women will haveit that it was the last, and that she did not like her errand, and soeased her mind by a bit of fault-finding and meddling, and I must sayit looks like it."

  "And you have no possible clew to who this person was, Richards?" askedMr. Bradford.

  "None, sir. I might track her easy, I supp
ose, but since she didn'tseem to wish it to be known who she was or where she came from, Iwouldn't feel it was showing my gratitude for the obligations she'slaid me under, and you see by the printing she don't wish to be trackedeven by her handwriting. Nor was this all. Early this morning, roundcomes Dr. Dawson to the station, asking for me; and he told me that anold lady had been to his house yesterday, and after asking a lot ofquestions, had paid him a hundred and fifty dollars for undertakingthe operation on Willie's eyes, and took a receipted bill from him.By all accounts, she must be the same person who was at my placeyesterday, and if ever a man was as mad as a hornet, he's the one.When he asked if he might take the liberty of inquiring what interestshe had in my family, she asked if it was necessary to Willie's curethat he should know that; and when he said, 'No, of course not,' shesaid it _was_ a great liberty, and as good as told him to mind his ownaffairs. He quite agrees with my wife and Mrs. Granby that she was onlya messenger from some unknown friend, and that she was not pleasedwith the business she had in hand. The doctor is very much occupiedjust now, and told her he could not well see me before this evening;but he found he could make time to run over and tell me this morning,and kindly did so. So, you see, sir, I do not rightly know what to do,joyful and grateful as I feel; and I thought I would just run over andtell you the story at once, and ask if you thought I might safely usethis money without fear of getting into any difficulty. You see it'ssuch a strange and mysterious way of doing things that I won't say butI would think it odd myself if I heard another person had come by sucha sum in such a way."

  "I see no possible objection to your using the money," said Mr.Bradford. "It certainly has been intended for you, however singularthe way in which it has been conveyed to you, or however disagreeablethe manner of the messenger. It has probably been the work of someeccentric, but kind-hearted person who does not choose to have his gooddeeds known."

  "I can't say but I would feel better to know whom it came from, Mr.Bradford, grateful from my very soul as I am. I shouldn't have been tooproud to take such a favor from one who I knew was a friend to me, withthe hope, maybe, of one day making it up, but it's not so comfortableto have it done in this secret sort of way, and as if it were somethingto be ashamed of."

  "Do not look at it in that way, Richards, but believe that your friendhas only acted thus from a wish that his left hand should not knowwhat his right hand has done. Look at it as a gift from the Lord, anduse it with an easy heart and a clear conscience, as I am sure yourbenefactor intended."

  "Well, may God bless and prosper him, whoever he is," said thepoliceman. "I only wish he knew what a load is lifted from my heart.And thank you too, sir, for your advice and for all your interest inme."

  While the policeman had been telling his story, Maggie and Bessie hadstood listening eagerly to him. At first they looked pleased as wellas interested, but when it was made plain to them that some strangerhad done the very thing on which they had set their hearts, a look ofblank dismay and disappointment overspread their faces. By the timehe had finished, Bessie, with her head pressed against her mother'sshoulder, was choking back the tears, and Maggie, with crimson cheeksand wide-open eyes, was standing, the very picture of indignation.

  "Papa," she exclaimed, as Mr. Richards said the last words, "does hereally mean that woman went and paid that money for blind Willie to becured?"

  "Yes, my darling," said her father, with a feeling of real pity for thedisappointment of his two little daughters, "but I think--"

  "It's too bad," said Maggie, without waiting for her father to finishhis sentence; "it's as mean, as mean as--Oh! I never heard of anythingso mean; the horrid old thing! something ought to be done to her. Iknow she just did it to make a disappointment to Bessie and me. Oh,dear! It's too bad!" She finished with a burst of tears.

  "My dear little girl," said her father, "I know this is a greatdisappointment to you; but you must not let it make you unreasonable.This person is probably an entire stranger to you; and any way, shecould know nothing of your purpose."

  "You will find plenty of uses for the money," said Uncle Ruthven,catching Bessie up in his arms. "Put it away till you find anotherblind boy, or lame girl, or some old sick body, who would be glad of alittle help. Papa will find you ways enough to spend it."

  "But," said Bessie, mournfully, as she wiped her eyes, "we wanted touse it for Willie, and we thought so much about it, and we were soglad when we thought how pleased he would be! Oh! we are very much_trialed_; are we not, Maggie?"

  "Now the Lord love you for your thought of my boy," said the policeman,"and I'm sure I wish, for your sake, that the old lady had stoppedshort of Dr. Dawson's door, keeping her money for some other folks thathad need of it, and leaving it to you two dear little ones to do thiskind turn for my child. But Willie will think just as much, as I do, ofyour meaning to do it, as if you'd done it out and out; and if you'llallow it, madam,"--here he turned to Mrs. Bradford, "I'd like to bringhim over, that he may say so."

  Mrs. Bradford said she would be very glad to see Willie, and asked Mr.Richards to bring him and Jennie over the next day, and let them spendan hour or two with the children. This she did, thinking it would be apleasure to her little girls to see the blind boy and his sister, andwishing to do all she could to console them for their disappointment.

  The policeman promised to do this, and then, once more thanking Mr.Bradford and his family for all their kindness, he went away.

  decoration, end of chap. 13]

  Title decoration, chap. 14]