CHAPTER XI.
EASTER-TIDE.
"Well," said Mrs. Allen to her husband, after they had gone upstairs, "Ihope you're satisfied and have had enough of Fannie's visiting around attenement houses. Democratic ideas are all right enough, theoretically,but I think it is impossible for people to dwell long in poverty withoutlosing refinement."
"Some kinds of poverty, yes; and some kinds of people, yes. That comfortand luxury are refining in their influence goes without saying; but justas there are some people whom all the wealth in the world could neverraise above vulgarity, so there are others whom poverty could neverdegrade. And the lady and her little girl whom Fannie has visitedto-night are of this type. They are the kind of people who will have therefinements of life even at the expense of some of its comforts."
"It seems to me that is queer talk. How can people have refinementswithout comforts?"
"Had you been at Mrs. Alroy's to-night, I think you would understand howthat could be. And as for the rest," Mr. Allen added dryly, "Mrs. Alroyis one of the Van Ortons of New York."
"The Van Ortons of New York!" and Mrs. Allen dropped into her chair inastonishment, for the Van Ortons were people whom she was glad to visit."How do you know?"
"Her resemblance to her brother puzzled me, and, wondering where I couldhave met her, I asked her maiden name."
"Why, I must call upon her soon."
"I think you'd better not--"
"Who's the aristocrat now, I wonder!"
"--because," he added, as if he had not heard the interruption, "shewould consider it an intrusion. Her pride has been made as hard and coldas ice by her misfortunes, and I'm afraid nothing will ever melt it."
This was another new idea to Mrs. Allen. It seemed as if new things,starting with the little folks, were destined to be contagious. That awoman who lived in three small rooms and who supported herself and herdaughter by selling goods across a counter, should resent a visit from aperson so well known as herself, was somewhat startling to the lady.
"Well," she said impatiently, "what are you and your philanthropy goingto do about it?"
"I think it is a case which my philanthropy, as you choose to call it,cannot reach. I know that her people would gladly have her come home,and there is no reason why they should be ashamed of either her or herdaughter; but she manages to keep them in complete ignorance of hercircumstances, and also, I strongly suspect, of her whereabouts."
"Why don't you write to them?"
"She has forbidden it, and in such a way as to make me feel that itwould be a breach of honor to disregard her wishes. No, nothing can bedone at present. But she is as frail as a reed, and her body, in spiteof her will power, will break down under the pressure, and then----"
"Well?"
"Then she will die--that is all."
* * * * *
It seems hard, at first thought, to bring the sorrows of olderpeople--and sorrows, too, for which, as the words of Mr. Allen wouldindicate the above to be, there seems no earthly cure--into a book forgirls; but perhaps it is, after all, a truer kindness to let them findout, while there is yet time, that life is a thing of earnest and realimport, and that the impossible ideas of a romantic world where a fewsorrows come simply as contrast, and then vanish forever, leaving theheroes and heroines surrounded by an everlasting halo of happinessand prosperity--which so many of the lighter novels teach--are moreinjurious than any statistics will ever show. They give views of lifewhich, if followed out, as in the case of Constance Van Orton, are aptto end in sorrow and despair.
But the saddest life must have some joy in it, and Mrs. Alroy probablyhad many happy hours, when she enjoyed the sunshine, or, in more sobermoods, the gentle patter of the rain on the roof, her books (to whichthe poorest of those who live in our large cities can have accessthrough the public libraries), and, above all, the companionship of herdaughter, who was really that most remarkable of characters, a childgood, and even pious, without priggishness or the slightest taint ofaffectation.
And when all is thought and felt and suffered, above earth's joys andwoes and hopes and dark despair is God, the eternal Good, and
What to us is darkness, to Him is light, And the end He knoweth."
And so the days rolled on and brought the anniversary of Christ'ssuffering and death and resurrection. The Burton family kept Easter withgreat rejoicing. They exchanged presents of pots of flowers, ferns andEaster lilies, mignonette and roses, which made the house fragrant andbeautiful. The children received from their parents and friends at adistance Easter cards; and colored eggs, in which Ralph delighted, werenot forgotten.
Mrs. Burton and Winnie, also, on the day previous, did their sharetoward decorating the church they attended. There was always a bigpyramid of bouquets on the pulpit stand, which were taken down afterservice and distributed to the children of the Sunday-school. It was agreat treat to the children to go to church on this day and join in theresponsive service and hear the joyful anthems. This Easter Day was noexception to previous ones, in point of joy and thanksgiving.
There were some little extra surprises at the Burton home, among thembeing a panel of Easter lilies and maidenhair fern, painted in oilfor Mrs. Burton by her sister Kitty; and from the same source Winniereceived a smaller one of lilies-of-the-valley and wild violets, withthe motto below: "Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meekand lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls." In theafternoon they held a service of their own in the sitting-room. Mrs.Burton and Aunt Kitty sang Abt's duet, "Easter Day," and they had two orthree fine quartettes.
Norah had not been forgotten, either, in the distribution of theflowers, or in an invitation to join the family circle in the afternoon.She was anxious to do something in return, and so had prepared anothersurprise which greeted them at tea-time. On each plate lay an egg,which, when examined, was found to be a wooden candy-box, full ofhome-made candies. All were pleased, even to grandma and Mr. Burton,and Norah's face shone with delight when she saw that her gifts wereappreciated.
It had been a long day for Ralph, however, and Winnie and Jack stayedat home with him while the other members of the family went to eveningservice. The child was tired and restless, yet too much excited to besleepy, and was very unwilling to go to bed when the usual hour arrived.Winnie was quite weary, too, but she dared not allow herself to beimpatient on a day like this, so she told him Bible stories and sang tohim, and at last the heavy eyelids closed, and she was at liberty to godownstairs with her book.
This time it was "Pilgrim's Progress," which she was reading for aboutthe dozenth time. She dropped, with a sense of luxury, into the same bigchair in which we have seen her on a former occasion. Jack also had aninteresting book, and they read on in perfect silence for half an hour,when suddenly they heard a crash, and then Ralph's voice in a frightenedcry.
Dropping their books, they ran upstairs. Jack turned up the gas, andthey found that poor little Ralph had rolled out of bed, and was lyingstretched on the floor, but far more frightened than hurt. He said hehad had bad dreams, and they could not quiet him nor induce him to goback to bed. At last Jack wrapped him up in a shawl, and Winnie sat downin the big chair and took the frightened child in her arms.
Jack settled himself again with his book and forgot all about themboth, until his father and mother came home and found them asleep. Mrs.Burton's face showed disapproval until Jack explained the circumstances,and she could then enjoy the pretty picture they made, without feeling aregret that it was the result of disobedience.
Jack took Ralph in his arms and once more carried him, still sleepingsoundly, upstairs. They did not waken Winnie until it was time for themall to go to bed, when she was gently roused by her mother. She lookedaround in bewilderment, and it was some time before she could realizewhat had happened.
The Girl Warriors: A Book for Girls Page 11
