XIV.
_WHO IS A LADY?_
In the afternoon the children asked their grandmother if they might godown upon the beach, but she said it was still too warm, and she didnot wish Bessie to go out until the sun was down.
"Grandma is going to take her nap now," said Aunt Annie; "suppose wego out on the piazza and have a store, and ask Lily and Gracie to comeplay with you."
"Is Miss Adams there?" asked Maggie.
"No, but the colonel has had his arm-chair taken out, and is sittingthere with Mrs. Rush, and I am going there with my work; so you will bequite safe."
"Oh, then we'll go," said Bessie. She did not feel afraid where thecolonel was.
"Are you going to sew with Mrs. Rush again?" asked Maggie.
Aunt Annie laughed and pinched her cheeks, telling her not to beinquisitive. For the last few days Aunt Annie had always seemed to besewing with Mrs. Rush, and they were very busy, but they did not appearto wish to let the little girls know what they were doing. Annie wasalways whisking her work out of their sight, and if they asked anyquestions, they were put off, or told, as Maggie was now, not to becurious.
Once when they were staying with the colonel, when Mrs. Rush had goneout for a while, he sent Bessie to a certain drawer to find a knife.Bessie did as she was told, but as she was looking for it, she suddenlycalled out, "Oh, what a dear darling little cap! just like a dolly's.Why, does Mrs. Yush play with dolls when nobody looks at her?"
"Holloa!" said the colonel, "I forgot; come away from that drawer. I'ma nice man; can't keep my own secrets."
Maggie was going to ask some questions; but the colonel began to talkabout something else, and they both forgot the little cap. But theywere very curious to know why Aunt Annie and Mrs. Rush were alwayswhispering and laughing and showing each other their work, as well aswhy it was so often put away when they came near. To-day Aunt Annie wasembroidering a little piece of muslin, but she did not put it out oftheir sight, though she would answer no questions about it.
They all went out on the piazza to set about making what Maggie called,"A Grocery and _Perwision_ Store." The piazza steps ended in two largeblocks of wood, and on one of these they were to play. Aunt Annie madesome paper boxes to hold some of their things, and they had clam shellsfor the rest. They had sand for sugar, blades of timothy grass forcorn, sea-weed for smoked beef and ham, and small pebbles for eggs,with larger ones for potatoes. In short, it was quite wonderful to seethe number of things they contrived to have for sale. When the colonelfound what they were about, he called for a couple of clam shells, andsent his man for a piece of wood and some twine; with these he made apair of scales, which Maggie and Bessie thought quite splendid. To besure, one side was ever so much heavier than the other, but that didnot matter in the least; neither they nor their customers would betroubled by a trifle like that. Then he gave them a couple of bulletsand some shot for weights, so that the whole thing was fixed in finestyle.
Maggie went to call Lily and Gracie, and when Mamie Stone heard whatwas going on, she asked if she might come too. Maggie said "Yes," forMamie was not so disagreeable as she used to be when she first came toQuam Beach. However fretful and selfish she was when she was playingwith other children, she was almost always pleasant when she was withMaggie and Bessie.
Maggie went back with her to their little playmates, and in a fewmoments they were all as busy as bees. Maggie said Bessie must bestore-keeper, for she knew she did not feel like running about.
They had been playing but a little while, when Walter came up, and whenhe saw what they were doing, he said he would be a customer too. Hewas a capital playfellow, and pretended to be ever so many differentpeople. First, he was an old negro man, then he was a naughty boy, whomeddled with everything on the counter, and gave the little shop-womana great deal of trouble, which she enjoyed very much; then he was aFrenchman, who spoke broken English; and after that, he pretended to bea cross old Irishman.
While they were playing so nicely, who should come sweeping down thepiazza but Miss Adams, dressed in her riding-habit? Away went all thelittle girls like a flock of frightened birds. Mamie and Lily ran intothe parlor, where they peeped at her from behind the blinds; Graciescrambled into Annie Stanton's lap; Maggie squeezed herself in betweenthe colonel and Mrs. Rush; and Bessie walked to the other side of thecolonel, where she stood with her hand on his chair.
Miss Adams was vexed when she saw them all fly off so, for she had notcome with any intention of interrupting or teasing them. She was goingout to ride, and had walked to the window of the hall above, to see ifthe horses were at the door, and there she had noticed the children attheir play.
Bessie stood quietly behind her counter, while the rest ran about afterMaggie. She looked more pale and languid than usual that afternoon, asshe always did when she had been tired or excited. All the soft pinkcolor which had come into her cheek since she had been at Quam Beachwas quite gone; it was no wonder that grandma frowned and bit her lipto keep herself from saying sharp things when she looked at her darlingthat day.
Now, Miss Adams always said that she was afraid of nobody, and did notcare what people said of her; but as she watched the delicate littlechild, who she knew had been brought by her parents to the sea-shorethat she might gain health and strength, she felt sorry that she hadplagued her so, and thought that she would like to make it up withher. She went into her room, put a large packet of sugar-plums intoher pocket, and then went down stairs. She came up to Bessie just asthe little girl reached the colonel's side, and, standing before her,said,--
"Well, Bessie, are you in a better humor yet?"
Bessie was certainly not pale now. A very bright color had come intoher cheeks, as Miss Adams spoke to her, but she said nothing.
"Come," said Miss Adams, holding out the parcel, "here are somesugar-plums for you; come, kiss me and make up."
"I'll forgive you," said Bessie, gravely; "but I don't want thesugar-plums."
"Oh, yes, you do!" said Miss Adams; "come and kiss me for them."
"I don't kiss people for sugar-plums," said Bessie; "and I'm sure Idon't want them."
"Then come and kiss me without the sugar-plums."
"No," said Bessie, "I'll shake hands with you, but I don't kiss peopleI don't like."
"Oh!" said Miss Adams, "I suppose you keep all your kisses for yourfriend, the colonel."
"Oh, no," answered Bessie, "a great many are for papa and mamma, andthe yest of the people I like."
Miss Adams saw that the colonel was laughing behind his newspaper, andshe was provoked.
"And you don't like me, eh?" she said, sharply. "Don't you know it'svery rude to tell a lady you don't like her, and wont kiss her?"
Bessie opened her eyes very wide. "Are you a lady?" she asked, in atone of great surprise.
Mrs. Rush did not wish to have Miss Adams go on talking to the child,for she was afraid straightforward Bessie would say something whichwould cause fresh trouble; and she begged Annie Stanton to take heraway; but Annie would not; she rather enjoyed the prospect, and whenMrs. Rush would have spoken herself, her husband put out his hand andstopped her.
"A lady!" repeated Miss Adams; "what do you take me for? Don't you knowa lady when you see one?"
"Oh, yes," answered Bessie, innocently. "Mamma's a lady, and grandmaand Aunt Annie and Mrs. Yush, and ever so many others."
"And I'm not, eh?" said Miss Adams, angrily.
Bessie did not answer, but peeped up under the colonel's paper, to seeif he would help her; but he did not seem inclined to interfere. Hiseyes were fixed on the paper which he held before his face, and hisother hand was busily engaged in smoothing his moustache.
Miss Adams was very angry. She would not have cared if she had beenalone with Bessie; but she was provoked that she should tell her shewas not a lady, before so many people, for two or three gentlemen hadgathered near, and the colonel's amusement vexed her still more.
"You don't call me a lady, eh?" said Miss Adams again.
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sp; "How can you quarrel with such a baby about nothing, Miss Adams?" saidMrs. Rush, rising from her seat.
"She is no baby. She knows very well what she is about, and she hasbeen put up to this," said Miss Adams, with a furious look at thecolonel. "Who told you I was not a lady?"
"Nobody; I just knew it myself," said Bessie, drawing closer to thecolonel, as Miss Adams came nearer to her. He threw down his paper, andput his hand over her shoulder.
"You little impertinent!" said Miss Adams, "who made you a judge, Ishould like to know? Not a lady, indeed!"
Poor Bessie! She would not say what she did not think, and she did notlike to say what she did think; but she was tired of the dispute, andthought Miss Adams would have an answer. She gave a long sigh, andsaid,--
"Well, perhaps you are a kind of a lady; but if you are, it must be akitchen or stable lady."
The gentlemen who were standing by walked quickly away; Mrs. Rushlooked frightened; Annie bent her head down on Gracie's shoulder, andshook with laughter; and the colonel reached his crutches and, rising,began to steady himself.
Miss Adams stood silent a moment, and then began to speak in a voicealmost choked with rage, "You little--" when the colonel interruptedher.
"Excuse me, madam," he said, "if I remind you that you have no one toblame for this but yourself. The child is straightforward and honest,accustomed to speak as she thinks; and if she has said what was betterleft unsaid, remember that you forced her to it. I cannot permit her tobe annoyed any farther."
Helpless as he was, he looked so grand and tall as he stood there withhis eyes fixed sternly on Miss Adams, that she felt abashed. Mrs. Rushhad taken Bessie into her room, Annie had followed with Maggie andGracie, and there was no one left to quarrel with but the colonel. Justat that moment the horses were led up, and she turned away and wentdown the steps to mount.
But Miss Adams had never been so annoyed. She had no mother, or perhapsshe would not have been so rough and unladylike; but she had had manya reproof from other people. Many a grave, elderly lady, and even someof her own age, had spoken, some kindly, some severely, upon the wild,boisterous manner in which she chose to behave. But she had alwayslaughed at all they said, and went on as before. But that this innocentlittle child, to whom she had been so unkind, should see for herselfthat she had acted in an improper way, and one that was only fit forthe kitchen or stable, and should tell her so, and show such surpriseat hearing her call herself a lady, was very mortifying, and she couldnot forget it.
That evening, when Mr. and Mrs. Bradford came home, they went overto the hotel for their little girls, and Annie told them all thathad happened that day. After Bessie was undressed, and had said herprayers, she sat on her mother's lap, and told her of all her troubles,and then she felt happier.
"Mamma, I'm afraid I made Miss Adams mad, when I said that, and Ididn't mean to," she said.
"But why did you say it, Bessie?--it was saucy."
"Why, I had to, mamma; I didn't want to; but I couldn't _break thetruth_; she asked me and asked me, so I had to."
"Oh, my Bessie, my Bessie!" said mamma, with a low laugh, and then sheheld the little girl very close in her arms, and kissed her. Bessienestled her head down on her mamma's bosom, and her mother held herthere, and rocked her long after she was fast asleep. Sometimes shesmiled to herself as she sat thinking and watching her child; butonce or twice a bright tear dropped down on Bessie's curls. Mammawas praying that her little girl might live to grow up and be a goodChristian woman, and that she might always love the truth as she didnow, even when she was older and knew it was not wise to say suchthings as she had done to-day.
Bessie at the Sea-Side Page 15
