The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe; Or, There's No Place Like Home

by Amanda M. Douglas

  CHAPTER X.

  WHICH SHOULD SHE CHOOSE?

  The reality at Seabury far exceeded Florence Kenneth's expectations.The hotel was really finer than that at Salem. And then, insteadof being maid, she found here a woman who waited upon Mrs. Osgood,arranged her hair, kept her dresses in order, and did the smallerrands. What was she to do, then?

  Not very much, it seemed. She read aloud, and Florence was anundeniably good reader; she embroidered a little, went every day for aride, and absolutely sat in the parlor. It was rather embarrassing atfirst.

  "I have decided," Mrs. Osgood said to her sister, a few days afterward."The child has a very sweet temper, and a most affectionate nature;and then she is so lovely. A perfect blonde beauty! In two years shewill be able to enter society. Mrs. Deering declared yesterday that hervoice was remarkable."

  "I hope you will not spoil her completely. She has a good share ofvanity, I perceive."

  "It is only proper pride: the child is well-born. I know her mothermust have been a lady, and Kenneth is not a common name."

  "I am sure I hope your _protegee_ will prove a comfort."

  Then Mrs. Osgood announced her plans to Florence, who was literallyoverwhelmed. To be adopted by so rich a lady, to have an elegant home,and become skilled in all accomplishments--was it not a dream,--herwild, improbable dream?

  To Florence Mrs. Osgood was an angel. True, she had seen her ratherpettish, and sometimes she scolded Martha, and gave way to hystericalspasms; but these were minor faults. She drew the child to her with thesweet and not-forgotten arts of her faded girlhood, and was pleasedwith the sincere homage that had in it so much of wonder. Florencewould love her like a daughter.

  "I cannot promise to leave you a fortune," she said, "but while I liveyou shall have every thing. I was treated very unjustly by Mr. Osgood'swill; though I know he was influenced by his relatives, who grudge meevery penny. They would be very glad to have some of their childrenlive at Roselawn: I christened the place myself on account of theroses."

  "How beautiful it must be!" exclaimed Florence, enchanted.

  "It _is_ a handsome place. You would have a governess, and be taughtmusic and French and drawing, and be introduced everywhere as mydaughter. If I had one, I fancy she would look something like you, forI was called very pretty in my younger days;" and Mrs. Osgood sighed.

  "I can never be grateful enough," said Florence.

  "I shall want you to love me a great deal,--just as if I were your ownmother. And when you are grown you must make me your confidant. Youwill marry brilliantly, of course; but you must promise that it willnot be without my consent."

  "I shall never want to leave you!" declared Florence impulsively,kissing the thin hands.

  "It will be such a luxury to have your affection. My life has alwaysbeen so lonely. Very few people can understand my sensitive nature, butI trust you will be able to."

  There was some other points not so congenial. When they came to these,Florence's heart shrank a little.

  For, if she chose Mrs. Osgood, the group at home must drop out of herlife completely. There could be no visiting, no corresponding.

  Poor Florence! This was a cloud upon her bright visions.

  "I shall write to your grandmother occasionally to let her know thatyou are well; but, as my daughter, you will be in such an entirelydifferent sphere, that the slightest intimacy would be unwise."

  What should she do? Would Granny think her cruel and ungrateful?

  Mrs. Osgood proposed to take her back to Madison to spend a few days inwhich to decide. As for her, it hardly appeared possible to her thatthe child could hesitate. And now that she had enjoyed this littletaste of luxury, poverty would seem all the more repulsive.

  They drove over one morning. Luckily, Granny was in very tolerableorder; but, oh the difference! She was so glad to see Florence, thatshe kissed and cried over her a little.

  "I want to have a talk with your grandmother," Mrs. Osgood said; andFlorence betook herself to the kitchen. How dreadfully poor and meanevery thing looked!

  Mrs. Osgood went straight about the business in hand. She describedher offer in the most glowing terms, and held out all its advantages.It would relieve Mrs. Kenneth from much care and anxiety, give her oneless to struggle for; and then Florence would have the position forwhich Nature had fitted her. Not one thing was forgotten.

  Granny listened like one in a dream. Flossy to be a rich lady'sdaughter,--to ride in a carriage, to have a piano, and be dressed insilk! Could it be true?

  "But oh! I can't give her up," moaned Granny. "She was poor Joe'sfirst-born, and such a sweet, pretty baby! There never was one on 'emthat I could spare."

  "I wish you would take counsel with some friend. I think thisopportunity for Florence is too good to be thrown away."

  "I don't know, I'm sure. You are very kind and generous. But to partwith my poor darling."

  The lady rose at length.

  "I shall leave Florence here for three days," she said. "In the meanwhile consider the subject well, and do not stand in the way of thechild's welfare."

  Florence was very sorry to part with Mrs. Osgood. She walked out to thegate, and lingered there, clinging to the slender hand, and at lastbeing kissed tenderly.

  "Think earnestly of my proposal. On Saturday I shall come for myanswer," said Mrs. Osgood.

  The lady had not much fear. She knew that money was all-potent in thisworld; and it was quite absurd to suppose that a pretty girl wouldprefer toil and poverty in this hovel, to luxury and ease with handsomesurroundings.

  "Oh dear!" and Granny's arms were around Flossy's neck. "I can't letyou go away forever. And I am sure you don't want to," scanning thefair face with her fond and eager eyes.

  "Granny, I don't know what to say. I should so like to have aneducation, and to be--oh! don't cry so. If every one thinks I ought notto go,"--and Flossy's lip quivered.

  "I am a foolish old body," sobbed Granny. "I'm not worth minding, mydear."

  "Fossy tum home. What 'ou ky?" said Dot, tugging at Granny's dress.

  "If we could see you once in a while."

  Florence felt the last to be an impossibility. She had a keenperception of the difference in station, and the nameless somethingthat Granny could not be brought to see.

  "You would hear about me," she said softly.

  Granny went back to her ironing. Florence offered to help, and arrangedher own light table. But it was uncomfortable this hot summer day, andher tender hand felt as if it was blistered. She consoled herself byrelating the experiences of the past month, and inwardly sighing forthe luxurious life. Granny was not so stupid but that she could see thedirection of the child's desires.

  "I don't wonder that you liked it; and she couldn't help loving you,even if I do say it. Why, a queen might be proud of you! If we knewsome one to ask."

  "There is Mr. Howard," Florence suggested.

  "Sure enough. He would see all sides of it. We'll go over after thework is done;" and Granny tried to smile a little lightness into hersad face.

  Charlie had gone to pull weeds for a neighbor, Hal was out also, sothere was only Kit to dinner. After that was out of the way, and Dothad her nap, they made themselves ready for their call.

  Florence tried her best to make a lady out of Granny. A queer littleold woman she was, and would be to the end of the chapter. Her bonnetwas dreadfully old-fashioned, and her gingham dress too short formodern requirements. Her wrinkled hands were as brown as berries, andshe never _would_ wear gloves in the summer. Then, after she was allready, she surreptitiously tied on her black alpaca apron; at whichFlossy gave a sigh of despair.

  The parsonage was a pretty little nest, half-covered with vines, andshaded by a great sycamore. Dolly and Fred Howard were playing on thegrass, and Dot started for the small group instantly.

  "O Mrs. Kenneth! how do you do? What a stranger you are! And here isFlorence, fresh as a rose! I heard that you had run away, my child.Come and sit in the shade here: it is cooler than
within doors. Mary,here are some visitors."

  Mrs. Howard gave them a cordial welcome, and insisted that Grannyshould lay aside her bonnet. She inquired if Florence had enjoyed hermonth at Seabury, and if she was not glad to get back again.

  Granny twisted her apron-strings, and glanced at the young girluneasily. Of course she must begin somehow, but there was a greatsinking at her heart.

  "Flossy's had a chance," she began; and then the strings were untied."We thought we'd come and ask a little advice. It's hard tellin' what'sfor the best;" and Granny looked as if she might break down into a cry.

  "A chance for an education?" asked Mrs. Howard.

  "No: it's--to go for good. Flossy, you tell. I am not much of a hand atgetting things straight," murmured Granny.

  Florence told the story in a very ladylike fashion, giving it the airof a romance.

  "Why, Florence, that is quite an adventure. And she wants to adoptyou?" Mrs. Howard exclaimed, much interested.

  "Do you know any thing about this Mrs. Osgood?" asked Mr. Howard.

  Florence used her limited knowledge to its fullest extent.

  "Oh! I believe I know something about Mrs. Duncan. Dr. Carew wasattending the boy. I have heard him speak of them all. Isn't Mrs.Osgood something of an invalid,--rather full of whims?"

  "She is not very strong," Florence admitted.

  "But it is a remarkable offer," rejoined Mrs. Howard. "And to have oneof the family so well provided for, seems like an especial providence."

  "But to have her go away," said Granny. "To give her up, and never seeher again!"

  "That does seem unkind. Perhaps it would not be quite as bad as that."

  Mr. Howard studied Florence attentively for a few moments. He hadalways considered her rather above her station.

  "It certainly is a generous proposal, granting every thing to be asrepresented. Florence will receive a superior education, and be raisedabove the care and drudgery of life. Yet she may have to devote manyof her best years to Mrs. Osgood; and ministering to an invalid iswearisome work. It is taking her entirely away from her family, to besure; but, putting aside love, she might never be able to help alongmuch. Women are not extravagantly remunerated; and, if she went away toteach school, she could not do much more than take care of herself. Andthere would be a partial separation."

  Florence gave Mr. Howard a look of relief and thankfulness.

  "I don't want to keep her from doing whatever will be best," saidGranny tremulously.

  "There are Joe and Hal to help along,--smart boys both. And thoughyour strong and tender arms have kept the little flock together thesemany years, they will wear out by and by. And, if any accident befellyou, it would be well to have some of them provided for. The importantquestion seems to be whether what Florence can do at home willcompensate for what she must relinquish. The entire separation appearsto me rather unjust. You said that Mrs. Osgood proposed that you shouldtake counsel of some one: suppose I should go to Seabury, and talk thematter over with her?"

  "Oh, if you would!" said Florence beseechingly. She felt that Mr.Howard was on her side, though she did not quite understand why.

  "Yes," rejoined Granny, catching at a straw. "You could tell her how itis,--poor Joe's children, every one on 'em so precious to me. I neverhad much learnin'; but I love 'em for father and mother both, and Ican't bear to think of their going away. Ah, well! it's a world full oftrouble, though they've always been good to me, poor dears."

  Mrs. Howard turned away her face to hide her tears, and presently leftthem to get a slice of nice fresh cake and a glass of milk for herguests. Her heart really ached for Granny.

  So it was settled that Mr. Howard would go over to Seabury, and learnall the particulars of the offer. Granny was very thankful indeed. Soonafter, they picked up Dot, and started homeward.

  "You rather approve of it," Mrs. Howard said to her husband, watchingthe retreating figures, and smiling at Dot, who pulled at every waysidedaisy-head.

  "Florence has her heart set upon it, that is plain to see."

  "And yet it seems ungrateful in her."

  "It would be nobler for her to stay with Granny, and help rear theothers. Yet that is more than one can reasonably expect of pretty younggirlhood."

  "She is industrious, and has many excellent points but she is a gooddeal ashamed of the poverty."

  "I wonder whether she would be any real assistance? She has a good dealof vanity, and love of dress; and no doubt she would spend most of hermoney upon herself. Then, in some mood of dissatisfaction, she mightmarry unwisely, and perhaps be more trouble than comfort to Granny. IfMrs. Osgood is in earnest, Florence would at least receive an educationthat might fit her for a nice position in case Mrs. Osgood tired ofher."

  "And the life at home is not a great delight to her," said Mr. Howardwith a smile. "But whether I would like to give up my brothers andsisters"--

  "Florence is peculiar. Ten years from this time she may love thembetter than she does now."

  There was a noisy time in the "Old Shoe" that night. They were allso glad to have Flossy back again. Kit played on imaginary fiddles;Charlie climbed on her chair, and once came tumbling over into her lap;Hal watched her with delight, and thought her prettier than ever; Joewhistled and sang, and told her all that had occurred in the store,pointing his stories with an occasional somerset, or standing on hishead to Dot's great satisfaction.

  "Well, that is really margaret-nificent," declared Joe, flourishingGranny's old apron on the broomstick. "Flossy, you are in luck! It isall due to your winning ways and curly hair."

  "If I go"--with a sad little sigh.

  "Go? why, of course you will! She'd be a great goose; would she not,Granny?

  'Washing and ironing I daily have to do; Baking and brewing I must remember too; Three small children to maintain: Oh, how I wish I was single again!'"

  sang Joe with irresistible drollery.

  Granny laughed; but she winked her eyes hard, and something suspiciousshone in them.

  "It would be splendid, and no mistake! To think of having a piano, andlearning French, and riding in a carriage--'A coach and four and a goldgalore!' And then pretty Peggy we should"--

  Joe made a great pause, for something stuck in his throat.

  "But couldn't we ever see you?" asked Charlie.

  An awesome silence fell over the little group.

  "If you could come and see us once in a while," said Hal softly. "Wewould not so much mind not going _there_"--

  "I'd run away and visit her," announced daring Charlie. "I'd hide aboutin the woods until I saw her some day, and then"--

  "They'd set the dog on you."

  "Hum! As if I was afraid of a dog, Joe Kenneth! I'd snap my fingers inhis face, and ask him what he had for breakfast. Then I'd come backhome and tell you all about it."

  "The breakfast, or the dog?"

  "Joseph, I am afraid you are getting in your dotage," said Charlie witha shake of the head. "But, if I started to, I know I'd find Florence."

  "It is rather cruel," said Joe sturdily. "I don't see why she shouldwant to take you entirely away from us."

  "We cannot look at it just as the lady does," said Hal's mild voice. "Isuppose she thinks, if she does so much for Flossy, that she ought tohave a good deal of love in return."

  "She is ashamed of us because we are poor. But maybe if we managed toget along, and grow up nicely--she wouldn't feel so--so particularabout it."

  "I don't believe she would," exclaimed Florence. "You see, peopleare so different; and--I'm sure I've always wanted you to have nicemanners."

  "So you have, Flossy," declared Joe. "And you were meant for a lady."

  Hal and Granny sat on the doorstep after the rest had gone to bed,crying a little, and yet finding some comfort.

  "It would be so nice for Florence!" Hal said in his pleading tone."She would always have to work here, and not learn music and all thoselovely things. And she has such a beautiful voice, you know, and suchpretty hand
s, and nice, dainty ways"--

  "But never to see her again!" groaned Granny.

  "I think we shall see her,--some time. Perhaps Mrs. Osgood might die:she is not very well, and Flossy might come back to us. Oh, yes,Granny, I do believe we shall see her again!"

  "I've loved you all so much!"

  "And we should always love you, even if we went to Japan. Then, ifFlossy should have to work hard, and be unhappy, we might be sorry thatwe kept her out of any thing so nice."

  "I do believe you are right, Hal; only it's so hard to think of notseeing her again."

  "I'll try to make it up, dear. You will always have me."

  The soft young lips kissed those that quivered so piteously, andsmoothed the wet, wrinkled cheek.

  "We'll pray about it, Granny. Somehow it seems as if God made thesethings plain after a while; and it is in his hands. He hears the ravenscry, poor, hungry little birdies; and he must care for us. He willwatch over Florence."

  "O Hal, you talk like a minister! Maybe you will be one some day. Andit is so sweet to have you, dear boy!"

  "I shall never be half good enough," he said solemnly.

  He crept up to his room, but laid awake a long while, watching thestars, and thinking.

  Florence resolved the next day that she would not go, and bracedherself to martyr-like endurance. But oh, how mean and poor every thingappeared by contrast! Charlie in rags,--you never could keep Charliein whole clothes; Dot playing in the dirt, for, though you washedher twenty times an hour, she would not stay clean; the shabby, oldfashioned, tumble-down cottage,--no, Mrs. Osgood never would want anyof these wild Arabs visiting her.

  So she shed many quiet tears. Perhaps it would be best to make thesacrifice, hard as it was.

  Granny saw it all. Her old eyes were not blind, and her heart smote herfor something akin to selfishness. Poor, aching heart.

  "Flossy," she said, over her heart-break, "if Mr. Howard is satisfied,I think you had better go."

  "I have about decided to give it up. Perhaps it is my _duty_ to stay."

  Granny scanned the face eagerly, but found there no cheerful and sweetself-denial.

  "I've been thinking it over"--her voice broken and quavering. "Perhapsit will be best. Though I don't like to part with you, for your poorfather"--and Granny's inconsequent speech ended in tears.

  "I'll stay home then, and do what I can; only it seems as if therewere so many of us,--and the place so little, and I can't help beingdifferent, and liking music and education, and a nice orderly house"--

  "No, you can't help it. Poor Joe--your father I mean--liked 'em alltoo. I've sometimes thought that maybe, if he'd gone away, he mighthave been a gentleman. He'd a master voice to sing. And God will watchover you there, and not let you come to harm. Oh, dear!"

  Granny covered her face with her apron, and cried softly.

  Mr. Howard called that evening. He had been quite favorably impressedwith Mrs. Osgood's proposal.

  "Her connections are all reputable people," he said; "and I thinkshe means to treat Florence like a daughter. She can give her manyadvantages, and she is strongly attached to her already. But she _is_exclusive and aristocratic. She wants Florence all to herself. Still,she has made one concession: she will allow her to write home once ayear."

  "And then I could tell you every thing!" exclaimed Florence overjoyed.

  "But she is resolved not to permit any visiting. To be sure, time maysoften this condition; yet, if Florence goes, she ought to abide by herpromise."

  "Yes," answered the child meekly.

  "It does seem a remarkable opportunity. I do not know as it would bewise to refuse."

  Ah, if one _could_ know what was for the best! The days flew byso rapidly, there was so much talking, but never any coming to aconclusion. Joe was loudly on Florence's side. So was Hal, forthat matter; but from more thoughtful motives. And Granny was tooconscientious to stand in the way of the child's advancement, much asshe loved her, and longed to keep her.

  Then, on Friday evening they sat on the old stone doorstep, a sadgroup, going over the subject in low, sad tones, the pain of partingalready in their voices. Granny's vehemence had subsided. Hal hadFlorence's soft hand in his, Kit's head was in her lap, and Charlie satat her feet.

  Should she go? When all the mists and glamor of desire cleared away,as they did now in the calm star-light, with God watching up above,she felt that it would be nobler and truer to remain with them, andshare the poverty and the trials. For to have them ill, dying perhaps,without looking upon their dear faces, with no last words or lastkisses to remember, was more than she could bear. Would it not seemselfish to go off to luxury and indolence, when they must struggle onwith toil and care and poverty?

  "Oh!" she exclaimed, going to Granny's arms, with a sob. "I believeI cannot leave you when it comes to absolute parting. We have beenhappy, in spite of the troubles and wants. I should miss you all somuch! And, if I could get to be a teacher, I might help a little."

  Granny held her to her heart, and kissed the wet face again and again.

  "My dear darling, God bless you!" she said brokenly.

  Flossy thought herself a very heroic girl. There was a great lumpin her throat, and she could not utter another word. It was a bornprincess turning her back on the palace.

  Hal and Joe eyed each other inquisitively. It was the noblest thing shecould do, but would it be the wisest?