Marjorie's Maytime

by Carolyn Wells

  CHAPTER XVII

  LITTLE VIVIAN

  It was about ten minutes later when Pompton and his three charges cameout of the circus tent. There was a great crowd, and not seeing Marjorieat first, Pompton waited until most of the people had gone away, and thenbegan to look around for her.

  "I know she wouldn't go very far away," said King. "She must be quitenear here."

  "I'm not so sure," said Kitty. "You know how Marjorie runs off if shechooses, without thinking of other people."

  "I'm greatly worried, Master King," said Pompton. "I suppose I ought notto have let the child come out here alone. But she was so anxious tocome, and she promised she'd stay right here by the door. I couldn't comewith her, and look after the rest of you at the same time now, could I?"

  "Of course you couldn't, Pompton," said Kitty. "You did quite right. AndI don't believe Marjorie is very far away; I think she'll be back in aminute or two."

  But they waited several minutes, and the people who had been in thecircus tent all went away. The grounds about were entirely cleared, andsave for a few workmen, there was no one in sight. Uncertain what to do,Pompton appealed to the doorman, who just then came out with his handsfull of tickets.

  "Do you know anything about a little girl, about twelve years old, whocame out of the tent a short time ago?" asked Pompton.

  "Naw," returned the man, curtly, paying little attention to the inquiry.

  "But you must have seen her come out," said King. "She came out alone,before the performance was over. She had on a long tan-colored coat."

  "Aw, that kid? Yes, I seen her, but I don't know where she went to."

  "But we must find her! She's my sister!" said Kitty, and the tears cameinto her eyes.

  The doorman looked at Pompton. "You ought to keep yer kids together, an'not let yer party get sep'rated."

  "It wasn't Pompton's fault at all!" cried King, indignantly. "My sistercame out here to wait for us, and of course she's around here somewhere.She must be in one of the tents. May we go and look for her?"

  "Sure! Go where you like. I s'pose she's pokin' around somewhere to seewhat's goin' on."

  "Of course she's in one of the tents," said Kitty, brightening at theidea. "Where shall we look first, King?"

  Just then the man named Bill came along.

  "Hello, youngsters," he said. "Lookin' fer that kid sister of yours? Shetold me to tell you where she'd gone, but, bless my soul, I forgot allabout it!"

  "Oh, where is she?" cried Kitty, clasping her hands, and looking up atBill with pleading eyes.

  "There, there, little one! There ain't no use gettin' weepy about it.Sister's all right. She just went in that there tent with MademoiselleCora."

  Bill pointed to the tent, and King and Kitty made a dash for it.

  They fairly burst in at the door, and sure enough, there was Marjoriesitting on a big packing box, watching a little girl who was performingmost remarkable athletic feats.

  "Oh, hello," cried Marjorie, "I'm so glad you've come! Just sit down herebeside me, and watch Vivian. Mademoiselle Cora, this is my brother andsister."

  King pulled off his cap, and felt a little uncertain as to what sort ofetiquette this very strange situation demanded. But he bowed politely,and as Mademoiselle Cora smiled, and asked the two newcomers to beseated, and as there were plenty of packing boxes, King and Kitty satdown.

  "This is Vivian," said Marjorie, waving her hand toward the littleacrobat, who was turning double somersaults with lightning rapidity."She's only twelve, isn't she wonderful?"

  The experience was so novel, it is scarcely to be wondered at that Kingand Kitty fell under the spell, as Marjorie had done, and the three satbreathlessly watching Vivian.

  Mademoiselle Cora smiled at the enraptured audience, and in a far cornerof the tent sat a placid-looking woman knitting a shawl. This was themother of the two girls, but she took little interest in the visitors,and except for an occasional glance at them, devoted herself to herknitting.

  After waiting a few moments, and seeing that the children did notreappear, Pompton decided to go into the tent himself. He hesitated abouttaking Rosamond in, but there was no help for it, so carrying the childin his arms, he pushed aside the canvas flap which formed the tent door,and stepped inside.

  "My word!" he exclaimed, as he saw the youthful performer, and theinterested audience. "You children are the most surprising! I think youhad better come away now."

  "I think so, too," remarked Vivian's mother, looking up for a moment fromher knitting. "Are there many more of you to come?"

  "Now don't be uncivil, Mother," said Cora, with her pretty smile. "Itdoes no harm for these children to see Vivian perform. You know shewasn't on the programme to-day."

  "I'm only a beginner," said Vivian, standing on her feet once more, andspeaking to Marjorie and Kitty. "I've had quite a good deal of training,and now I'm on the programme afternoons twice a week. Next year I'll beon every afternoon."

  "Do you like it?" asked Kitty, fascinated by this strange child. Vivianwas a pretty little girl, and she wore a garment of pink muslin, shapedlike children's rompers. She wore pink stockings and pink kid sandals,and her golden hair was short, and curled all over her little head.

  "Yes, I like it," replied Vivian, but a wistful look came into her blueeyes. Gently, almost timidly, she touched Marjorie's pretty coat andstraw hat with her slender little fingers. "I like it,--but I think I'drather be a little home-girl like you."

  "Cora, send those children away," said the mother, sharply. "They upsetVivian completely when she sees them."

  "I like to see them," said Vivian, and she sat down between Kitty andMidget. "I like to see your pretty dresses, and real shoes and stockings.Do you go to school?"

  Marjorie felt strangely drawn to this little girl who seemed so to wantthe privacy of a home life. She spoke to her very gently. "Yes, Vivian,we all go to school,--though I don't go to a regular school, do you?"

  "No, I don't. Mother and Cora say they'll teach me every day, while we'reon the road, but they never get time. And I have to practise a greatdeal."

  Marjorie looked around for a piano, and then suddenly realized thatVivian meant she must practise her gymnastic exercises.

  "Come, Miss Marjorie, we must be going," said Pompton, who felt movedhimself by the pathetic face of the little circus girl.

  "Well, perhaps you'd better go now," said Cora, who had receivedimperative glances from her mother. "But we've enjoyed seeing you, andwe thank you for your call."

  Mademoiselle Cora had very polite manners, but she seemed to be under therule of her mother, and it was with evident reluctance that she bade thevisitors good-bye.

  "I'll give you my picture," said Vivian to Marjorie, as they parted,"because I want you to remember me. I would like to have your picture,but Mother won't let me have little girls' photographs. She thinks itmakes me feel envious to see pictures of little home-girls."

  "Well, I'll give you something to remember me by," said Marjorie,impulsively, and she took from her neck a string of blue beads, andclasped it round Vivian's throat.

  "Oh, thank you," said Vivian, with sparkling eyes. "I shall wear themalways, and love them because you gave them to me. Good-bye, dear,_dear_ little home-girl!"

  The tears came into Marjorie's eyes at the tremor in Vivian's voice, andshe kissed her affectionately, and then bidding good-bye to MademoiselleCora they followed Pompton out of the tent.

  They were all rather silent as they trudged along to the trolley-car, andthen Kitty said slowly, "Isn't it awful to be like that? I suppose shenever has any home-life at all."

  "Of course she hasn't, Miss Kitty, as she has no home," said Pompton;"it's wicked to put a child like that in a circus, it certainly is! She'sa sweet little girl, and her sister is a fine young lady, too."

  "The mother is horrid," said King. "She was awful cross about our beingthere."

  "Well," said Kitty, who sometimes saw deeper than the rest, "you mustn'tblame her too much. Couldn't
you see she didn't want us there, becausejust the sight of happy home-children makes little Vivian feel sorry thatshe has to live in a circus?"

  "Yes, that was it," said Marjorie. "I suppose they haven't any other wayto earn their living."

  The children could scarcely wait to get home to tell their parents ofthis wonderful experience.

  They found Mr. and Mrs. Maynard waiting for them at the hotel, andwondering a little because they were late.

  "Oh," cried Marjorie, flinging herself into her mother's arms, "we've hada most 'stonishing time! We visited a little circus girl in her own tent,and here's her picture!"

  Marjorie held up to her mother's amazed view the picture of littleVivian. It was taken in stage costume, and represented Vivian in one ofher clever acrobatic feats. Her pretty child-face wore a sweet smile, andthe whole effect of the photograph was dainty and graceful. Across acorner was scrawled the word "Vivian" in large, childish letters.

  "Did you buy this?" asked Mrs. Maynard, knowing that circus performersoften sold their photographs.

  "Oh, no, indeed, Mother; she gave it to me. And what do you think,Mother? The poor little thing has to live in a tent, and she wants tolive in a home! And it made her awful sad to see us, 'cause we have ahome, and we can wear regular dresses and shoes, and she has to wearqueer bloomer things,--and sandals on her feet!"

  "But I don't understand, Marjorie," said Mrs. Maynard. "How do you knowall this? Did you talk with the child?"

  "Oh, yes, Mother; we went in her tent, and saw her mother and sister. Idon't think they mind being in the circus so much. But Vivian feels justawful about it! And she's such a sweet little thing; and, Mother, I havethe loveliest plan! Don't you think it would be nice for us to 'dopther, and let her live with us?"

  "Midget, what are you talking about?" and Mrs. Maynard's face showed soplainly her dissent to the proposition that Marjorie jumped out of herlap, and ran across to her father, in the hope of better success.

  "Now, Father," she said as she threw her arms around his neck, and drewhis arms around her; "do please pay 'tention to my plan! You know weought to do some good in this world, and what _could_ be better thanrescuing a poor little sad circus girl, and letting her live in our ownhappy home with us? It wouldn't cost much,--she could have half of myclothes, and half of Kitty's,--we could each get along with half, I know.And we could both eat less,--that is, I could,--I don't know about Kit.But anyway, Father, won't you think about it?"

  "Yes, dear," said Mr. Maynard, looking fondly at his impetuous daughter;"I'll think about it right now,--and I'll express my thoughts aloud, as Ithink them. I think, first, that you're a generous and kind-heartedlittle girl to want to give this poor child a home. And I think next,that having made your suggestion, you must leave it to Mother and me todecide the matter. And our decision is that four children are quiteenough for this family, and we don't want to adopt any more! Besidesthis, Marjorie, it is far from likely that the little girl would beallowed to come to us. She is being trained for her profession, andthough I feel sorry that the child is not happy, yet she is with her ownpeople, and they are responsible for the shaping of her life and career.Just now, you are carried away by sympathy for the little girl, and Idon't blame you at all, for it is a sad case. But you must trust yourfather's judgment, when he tells you that he does not think it wiseto follow out your suggestion."

  Marjorie looked disappointed, but she well knew that when her fathertalked thus seriously, there was no use in pursuing the subject; so sheonly said, "All right, Father; I know you know best. But it does seem toobad for Vivian not to have any home pleasures, when I have so many!"

  "It does seem too bad, Marjorie, but since you can't help her in any way,turn your thoughts to feeling glad and grateful that you yourself have ahappy home, and can wear button boots."

  Marjorie laughed at her father's last words, but she knew that "buttonboots" stood for the civilized dress of the home-child, as contrastedwith the stage trappings of the little Vivian.

  So she put the photograph away among her treasures, and often looked atit, and wondered if Vivian still longed for the sort of happy home-lifethat meant so much to Marjorie.