"She is a good creature, my dear, her mother's main stay, and works
beyond her strength, I am sure. Be kind to the poor girl, and put a
little pleasure into her life if you can," answered Mrs. Spenser, as she
moved about, settling comforts and luxuries for her invalid.
"I shall _have_ to talk to her, as there is no other person of my age in
the house. How are the school marms? shall you get on with them, Mamma?
It will be so lonely here for us both, if we don't make friends with
some one."
"Most intelligent and amiable women all three, and we shall have
pleasant times together, I am sure. You may safely cultivate Becky; Mrs.
Taylor told me she was a remarkably bright girl, though she may not look
it."
"Well, I'll see. But I do hate freckles and big red hands, and round
shoulders. She can't help it, I suppose, but ugly things fret me."
"Remember that she has no time to be pretty, and be glad she is so neat
and willing. Shall we read, dear? I'm ready now."
Emily consented, and listened for an hour or two while the pleasant
voice beside her conjured away all her vapors with some of Mrs. Ewing's
charming tales.
"The grass is dry now, and I want to stroll on that green lawn before
lunch. You rest, Mamma dear, and let me make discoveries all alone,"
proposed Emily, when the sun shone warmly, and the instinct of all young
creatures for air and motion called her out.
So, with her hat and wrap, and book and parasol, she set forth to
explore the new land in which she found herself.
Down the wide, creaking stairs and out upon the door-stone she went,
pausing there for a moment to decide where first to go. The sound of
some one singing in the rear of the house led her in that direction, and
turning the corner she made her first pleasant discovery. A hill rose
steeply behind the farm-house, and leaning from the bank was an old
apple-tree, shading a spring that trickled out from the rocks and
dropped into a mossy trough below. Up the tree had grown a wild
grape-vine, making a green canopy over the great log which served as a
seat, and some one had planted maidenhair ferns about both seat and
spring to flourish beautifully in the damp, shady spot.
"Oh, how pretty! I'll go and sit there. It looks clean, and I can see
what is going on in that big kitchen, and hear the singing. I suppose
it's Becky's little sisters by the racket."
Emily established herself on the lichen-covered log with her feet upon a
stone, and sat enjoying the musical tinkle of the water, with her eyes
on the delicate ferns stirring in the wind, and the lively jingle of the
multiplication-table chanted by childish voices in her ear.
Presently two little girls with a great pan of beans came to do their
work on the back door-step, a third was seen washing dishes at a window,
and Becky's brown-spotted gown flew about the kitchen as if a very
energetic girl wore it. A woman's voice was heard giving directions, as
the speaker was evidently picking chickens somewhere out of sight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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