Part 18

Julia at once ran towards the barn, as fast as she could go; and Sue followed her. When they entered the barn, Johnny was stroking the kitten, and trying to get her to drink some of the milk in the saucer, which was placed close by her mouth; while the kitten made no effort to drink, but only continued the faint, pitiful cries. Mr. Le Bras, Oliver, and Felix were standing near,--Felix with his hands behind him, and a very sober, perplexed look upon his face.

As soon as Julia and Sue saw the poor, emaciated object, Julia screamed, and Sue turned away and began to cry. Then Julia began to cry bitterly, and exclaimed,--

"Oh, dear! my beautiful little kitten! She's dying! She's been dreadfully treated! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! What shall I do!"

Mrs. Le Bras, who was sitting in the veranda, heard the wailing, and ran out to the barn in a great fright. She was followed by Mary and Kate. When the full group were collected about the kitten, its cries were quite drowned in the chorus of lamentation.

"I shall have to take the part of a physician for this patient," said Mr. Le Bras finally: "I prescribe perfect quiet, to begin with. We must leave the kitten wholly alone, for at least an hour: it will be much more likely to notice the milk, and recover appetite for it, if its attention is not distracted elsewhere. Come, let us all go; and you, Oliver, shut the barn-door after us, and fasten it. Felix can go to his room, and stay until supper-time. After supper is over, he can go to the parlor with me, and we will hold court."

Julia then ran home, without saying another word; she ran into the room where her mother was sitting, threw herself on the floor by her side, buried her face in her lap, and began to cry quite hysterically; so that Mrs. Peterson would have been at a sad loss to know the cause, if Sue had not followed close behind Julia.

"Why, the kitten's found, 'most dead and starved," said Sue, who was still wiping her eyes. "It's just as little as nothing, except its head, and that looks awfully big,--I guess because it's about all that's left; and it's crying and crying, and can't drink the milk; and Felix must be to blame about it, 'cause father's going to hold court with him after supper; and I never saw Felix look half so sober before, so I expect he's awfully to blame, somehow."

"I knew he and Jack did it," sobbed Julia; "and he went and lied about it! If that kitten dies, I'll never speak to him again as long as I live! I don't believe I'll speak to him anyhow! He is one of the hatefulest boys that ever lived! I thought he was going to be better than he was last year; but this is just as mean,--and meaner, too, than the things he used to do last year. I hate boys, anyway!--all except Johnny."

Felix came down to supper with a very long face. The meal proceeded with unusual gravity and silence all around. As yet, the kitten had not touched the milk, and her death was expected at any time. Sue had reported Julia to have gone to bed early with a headache. After supper, Felix followed his uncle into the parlor. When the testimony in the case was all in, and Felix had made his defence, Mr. Le Bras proceeded with his argument for the opposite side, and for truth and right-doing in general, and then, as judge, pronounced the extent of Felix's guilt, and proceeded to the sentence.

"Now, Felix," said he, "if it were Johnny who were deserving punishment, and we were at home, I should, very likely, forbid his reading or studying for a certain number of days, which would be a great punishment for him; but, in your case, it seems to me that study is a punishment, and yet it is something for your good. I always endeavor, in punishing my children, to deny them something, or have them do something, which will be of some use to them besides the punishment. When I tell Johnny he must not read for a week, I do it partly because I know a pause in his reading, and more exercise and open air in consequence, will be for his good. So, in my previous sentence regarding you, I proposed that you should read an hour a day for the summer, because it would be a punishment in the first place, and yet would improve you very much, and give you a habit which would soon be a great pleasure as well as profit to you."

"Yes," replied Felix. "I rather anticipate my hour's reading with Pierre now, and I shouldn't like to give it up: but then, I get tired by the end of the hour, and I shouldn't like to have any more put on, if I can help it; because there are such a lot of other things that I want to do."

"Yes: I think an hour's reading is sufficient, especially in vacation. And I am hesitating about giving you any more fixed confinement. Still, as you do not go to school steadily, or study very hard the rest of the year, there is less objection than there would otherwise be. On the whole, I think I will offer you your choice between two kinds of punishment, this time. You can spend a half-hour a day in the practice of letter-writing, in which you say you are so deficient that you cannot write a letter to your father and mother,--although Johnny and Sue have already sent two,--or you can remain away from the Harbor three weeks. You can take your half-hour a day for writing, at any time upon which you and Pierre can agree. But you will probably prefer merely the deprivation of the morning-trips to the Harbor."

"How long shall I have to spend a half-hour a day studying letter-writing?"

"I think four weeks will answer. That will be twelve hours in all, which will be quite a punishment, and also be long enough to learn how to write a letter neatly and correctly."

"Then, I shall prefer the half-hour a day. I wouldn't give up going to the Harbor for a good deal, because I am to try and see if I can begin to earn some money to-morrow: I shouldn't like to give that up. If Pierre is willing, I'll take my half-hour before breakfast, and have it over with; for I always have a little while, between the time I get up, and breakfast-time, that I don't exactly know what to do with."

"Very well. But there is one thing more: you must go over to see Julia to-morrow, explain the matter fully, tell her how sorry you are, and ask her forgiveness."

"That will be the hardest of all," replied Felix, making a wry face; "because I don't believe she will forgive me, and I know she won't if the kitten isn't better. I am awful sorry, uncle Frank: I wouldn't have really hurt the kitten for the world; and I've cried some myself at thinking how miserable it looks, and what a hard time it's had, and how it may die."

"I don't think you are cruel or hard-hearted, Felix: your trouble is thoughtlessness; but, you see, thoughtlessness may amount to the same thing sometimes, in its effects, as real cruelty. I have known thoughtless persons who have even been the cause of the death of their dearest friends; so we will be thankful that, in this case, it is only a kitten who has had to suffer severely. Yet we should be very thoughtful, even of dumb animals; for they cannot think for themselves, and are peculiarly dependent upon us."

"I am awful sorry, truly," replied Felix, looking down gravely: "I will try to be more thoughtful, uncle Frank. But then, if you knew how much I've improved this summer, I think you would be some encouraged."

"I am a good deal encouraged, my dear boy, I assure you," replied Mr. Le Bras, putting his arm around Felix. "I expect great things of you, my boy. There's the making of a noble man in you; and, in many ways, I am proud of you already."

"I'm awful glad I've been with you and auntie and Johnny and Sue this summer," replied Felix, brushing a tear from his eye. "I suppose I'd have gone right on being horrible, if it hadn't been for that. But, somehow, I didn't know how to be any better,--or, anyway, I couldn't be."

At that moment, there was a soft rap at the door.

"Who is it?" asked Mr. Le Bras.

"It's me," said Sue. "Mother just sent me to say Oliver has come in, and says the kitten has drank up the milk, and so he guesses she'll begin to be all right by to-morrow; and I'm going right over to tell Julia, so she won't feel so bad."

"I guess I'm glad!" exclaimed Felix. And then his uncle opened the door, and told him the court was adjourned _sine die_, and he could go and arrange with Pierre about the half-hour.

So, the next day, Felix went to the Harbor as usual, and began his trade in candy, with very good success. The kitten had drank its milk all right for breakfast, and was able to stand up. Felix brought home a box of caramels for Julia, and took them over with him when he went, after dinner, to make his confession, and ask forgiveness. Julia could not withstand his humble manner and the box of caramels. She forgave him very prettily; although she added, that she did not know whether she could have forgiven him or not, if the kitten had died. Felix told her Jack said he didn't want the kitten himself; in fact, his mother did not like cats, and had said she was glad it had gone, and that she would not have it brought back; but yet he thought Julia deserved some punishment for carrying it off, and so had proposed, at first, to tie a stone to the kitten's neck, and drown it, when they went fishing. But Felix had objected to this plan, decidedly, and had compromised by proposing to shut the kitten up, fully intending to let it out that night or the next morning, and, if he kept it imprisoned over night, to carry it something to eat.

The next day the kitten could walk around, although very feebly. She was still kept in the barn, because that was a convenient place for her progress to be watched by all interested. The children made frequent visits to inquire after her health, and were assured each time, by her more cheerful and stronger "Mew!" that she was better.

That afternoon, as the children were in the veranda, Felix and Johnny sitting together in the hammock reading the "St. Nicholas" and "Wide Awake," which had just arrived, and Julia and Sue playing with their dolls, Mr. Frothingham's carriage came in sight, up the shell road, immediately drawing their attention from their books and dolls.

"There is a little girl with them," said Julia, "but it isn't Ruth. What a pretty girl she is, and how beautifully she is dressed! She doesn't look much like Ruth, does she?"

"I guess it's some of their relations, come to visit with Ruth," replied Sue.

"Poh!" said Felix: "no city girl would be sent for to visit with Ruth, it isn't likely! I guess it's some one from the Harbor, that they are carrying home. I've seen a girl at the Harbor, who lives in one of those big cottages, that looks just like her."

"I think it is Ruth herself," said Johnny; "only her hair is loose, and waved, and banged, and she's got different clothes on."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Julia, in disdain.

"Johnny thinks he can see better with his spectacles than folks can who don't have to wear any," remarked Felix, laughing.

"I really believe it is Ruth," said Sue breathlessly.

"Yes," added Johnny: "she's smiling, and waving her hand to us; and don't you see she's got Ruth's way of sitting up straight, and holding back her head?"

Felix whistled, which was his ordinary way of expressing great astonishment. "If that don't beat all!" he exclaimed.

Then they all ran down the steps, and stood, an expectant and curious group, awaiting the nearer approach of the carriage; while Mr. and Mrs. Le Bras, who had been sitting in the balcony, came down-stairs, and stood out on the veranda, with smiling faces, ready to welcome the occupants of the carriage.

There was no longer any doubt that the fine young lady in the carriage was Ruth, though she did look so radiantly stylish and handsome.

"Of course, dress makes a great difference in persons' looks; but I never saw a more striking example," remarked Mrs. Le Bras.

"Ruth was a very sweet-looking girl in her plain clothes, though," replied Mr. Le Bras: "I rather expected something of this kind, when she should be dressed more like other children."

"Why! did you know they were going to dress her up?" asked Felix.

"I thought it probable," replied Mr. Le Bras.

"But she'll feel all the worse when she has to put on her calico dress, and go home," said Julia.

The carriage was now too near for further remarks. The driver drove up to the door, and stopped; while Mr. and Mrs. Le Bras came out, and shook hands, and asked Mr. and Mrs. Frothingham and Ruth to come in.

"We came down to get the children," said Mr. Frothingham. "We want them to come and take tea with Ruth, and then drive over with us to see the fireworks at the Harbor. We will bring them back in good season this evening.

"They will be very happy to go," replied Mrs. Le Bras.

Mr. and Mrs. Le Bras urged their callers to come in, and stay until the children were ready. As Julia was included in the invitation, she ran home to ask her mother if she could go, while Felix, Sue, and Johnny went to get ready; Mrs. Le Bras having called Kate to help Sue to dress.

Ruth was dressed in white, and wore a broad hat of fine straw, trimmed with a long cream-colored plume and satin ribbon. She was just as modest, unassuming, and at her ease, as she had been in her blue calico, and, as Julia told her mother, "didn't seem to mind being dressed up." The fact was, the poor child was thinking so much of how nice it was not to be at the lighthouse with her aunt, that she had little thought for the other advantages of her situation, to begin with.

When the company were seated in the parlor, Mr. Le Bras said,--

"I judge you had good success in your interview with Mr. Shepard."

"Yes," replied Mr. Frothingham: "all things considered, bad as he felt to part with his little niece, he decided that it was for the best all around, under the circumstances. He will be able to see her often, and watch her growth and progress. We are to go through the legal forms as soon as possible, so that her future will be assured in case of my death."

Ruth was so horrified at Mr. Frothingham's speaking of dying, that she came up to him, put her arm around his neck, and said, with tears in her eyes, "You aren't sick, are you?"

"Why, no, indeed!" replied Mr. Frothingham, taking her on his knee, and laughing heartily. "Do I look like it? But I might get upset in my yacht, you know, or run over by the cars; and so, you see, I ought to be just as particular how I leave my affairs, little girl, as though I wasn't one of the healthiest persons in the world."

Mrs. Frothingham, who was sitting by the side of Mrs. Le Bras, said, "Did you ever see any thing like the way that dear child has come to us, as if she was sent from Heaven, when we were mourning the loss of our own little girl of just about her age? When my husband came home that night, and told how strongly your husband had advised him to adopt a child, I felt, as he did, that it was a pretty risky matter; for we have some friends who adopted a boy from an orphan asylum a number of years ago, and he is turning out a very wild young man, almost breaking their hearts. And then, only a few days afterwards, while we were thinking the matter over, we found that this child, belonging to a nice family, whom my husband's folks thought so much of years ago, was to be sent out to work, because her aunt did not want her in the way; and, just to think! she is the daughter of the very girl of whom I have heard Henry speak admiringly so often, as his schoolmate and the nicest girl in the village. He says Ruth looks just like her. The child and he take to each other so, and she and I take to each other just the same! It almost seems like having my own little girl back. Do you see how perfectly Mary's clothes fit her? There was not a single alteration needed. And do you see how happy Henry is? He is so fond of children, especially little girls! I thought it would break his heart when Mary died, and his being so lonely has worried me more than my own loneliness."

After Mr. and Mrs. Frothingham and the children had disappeared up the road, looking back, and waving their handkerchiefs, Mr. Le Bras said,--

"What a contrast Mrs. Frothingham is to Mrs. Shepard! Mrs. Shepard is so afraid her husband will like any one except herself, that she has acted in a manner which must always cause her husband to distrust her, if not positively dislike her; while Mrs. Frothingham, by being so glad to have her husband have some child to love, and so ready to love the same child herself, and be the happier for her presence, is increasing her husband's affection and admiration for herself."

"Jealousy is such a mean trait!" replied Mrs. Le Bras; "but it carries its own punishment with it, like most other selfish traits. If Mrs. Shepard had only been wise and kind-hearted enough to have kept Ruth, and treated her as she would an own daughter, how happy she and Mr. Shepard and Ruth might have been!"

"Perhaps it is just as well, for all except Mrs. Shepard," replied Mr. Le Bras; "for it has secured a much happier life for Mr. and Mrs. Frothingham, who were suffering so keenly for the loss of their children; and Mr. Shepard cannot but be proud of the bright prospects before his little niece."

"I don't think any thing can make up for domestic discomfort," replied Mrs. Le Bras; "and I am afraid they never can be really happy at the lighthouse, with the memory of the way Mrs. Shepard treated Ruth always before her and her husband."

"And between them," said Mr. Le Bras; "but the best thing has been done that could be done, under the circumstances. Let us be thankful that so much happiness has come to three persons at least."

Before long Johnny and Felix carried on so much business at the hotel and cottages at the Harbor, that they were called "The Young Merchants." Johnny had orders for almost every kind of a paper that could be had in town, and Felix for all sorts of fine candy. They found enough to do just to fill their orders, and so did not have to run any risks on their own account. Felix's great perplexity was what to do with his money; since he had spending-money enough, that his father had given him before he left. This difficulty he laid before his uncle. Mr. Le Bras proposed that he should buy some books, as those seemed to be the only things he lacked; saying that, if the books were bought with money Felix had earned himself, he would be the more likely to read them carefully, again and again, and prize them highly. In the course of time, he could add to his collection from his regular spending-money, unless he preferred to earn them in some way, until he had as large a library of his own as Johnny had, or larger. As Felix was beginning to like reading very much, he was pleased with this proposal, and began to lay out his earnings in books, taking Pierre's and Johnny's advice as to what books to purchase, in order to be sure that they would be not only interesting, but instructive, and such as he would not be likely to outgrow soon.

They generally got back from the Harbor in time for the morning-bath at the beach. Sometimes they went up to Mr. Frothingham's to bathe; because he was teaching Ruth to swim, and had promised to teach Julia and Sue at the same time; and the boys liked to dive from the wharf, for Johnny had learned to swim some, under Oliver's instructions. Pierre, too, was learning to swim; but he usually went off with some young men, with whom he had become acquainted at the Harbor, where he was a great favorite.

The sail-boat was in frequent requisition, and the boys often took the girls out in the row-boat; although Mrs. Le Bras would not allow them to go out of sight of Oliver, who was always somewhere upon the beach to watch them. This precaution was taken principally on account of Felix's thoughtlessness when he had one of his merry or mischievous fits, and because the row-boat was not flat-bottomed, and so would turn over more readily if it were swayed to one side.

Mr. Frothingham sometimes took them all out in his yacht, and at such times they often had what Felix called "big fishing;" that is, they caught bluefish, codfish, and mackerel, which could not be caught near the shore. On one of these occasions, Mr. Le Bras, greatly to his astonishment, drew up a large lobster, which was caught to his hook by one of its claws. He wondered greatly how it could have happened, and finally concluded that the lobster had been dropped from some boat. But when, shortly afterwards, he had the still more singular fortune to draw up a wicker flask, which he had seen on board the yacht in their own lunch-basket, he demanded an explanation of both these mysterious occurrences, upon which Felix exclaimed merrily,--

"Didn't I tell you I'd pay you off about Clyde?"

Felix had attached the lobster and the flask to Mr. Le Bras' hook, by drawing up his line when his attention was diverted in another direction. The lobster was one which had been brought for bait, and which Felix had begged of Mr. Frothingham, as Mr. Le Bras had not noticed it.

Mr. Le Bras was obliged to return to his office after a few weeks; but he came to the cottage every Saturday, remaining until Monday, and sometimes into the middle of the week. Pierre staid all the time, as he had agreed to give the young man at the Harbor lessons daily for the summer.

Sundays they generally went to the church in the village, but sometimes they drove into town. Once they attended service in the summer-chapel at the Harbor.

Ruth was very happy in her new home, and made such improvement, that, in a short time, no one would have suspected she had not always had the same advantages she was now enjoying. Mr. and Mrs. Frothingham were more and more fond of her; but they were too sensible to spoil her, and took great pains to encourage her in being sensible and self-reliant. Mrs. Frothingham was teaching her to cook, and do other kinds of housework, just as she had taught her own little girl; and Mr. Frothingham not only taught her to swim, but to ride on horseback, and promised to get her a tricycle when they returned to the city. As Mr. Frothingham's city-house was in the same place where Mr. Frank Le Bras lived, Johnny and Sue had the pleasure of knowing that their acquaintance with Ruth would continue. Mr. Frothingham would not return to the city, however, until October; while Johnny and Sue and their mother were to go home in September.