Our Winnie, and The Little Match GirlEverett-Green, Evelyn
General
Our Winnie, and The Little Match Girl
Everett-Green, Evelyn
Girls -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
And then it suddenly came into the child’s mind that this beautiful
holiday was over. She would have to go back to her match-selling in the
streets; and for a time there would not be even her gentleman coming
and going, for Mr. Clayton had been called away on some important
business latterly, and though he had come home for a few days when his
wife was ill, he had gone away again, and might be detained some little
while.
Great tears gathered slowly in the child’s eyes. She tried to keep
furtively brushing them away, but they would not be altogether hidden,
and when Madge came dancing in she saw them there and guessed their
source.
“But we won’t forget you, little Allumette,” she said kindly, “I have
thought sometimes about you. I’ve got some plans in my head. Allumette,
have you ever seen the country--the real country, where the fields are
full of buttercups and daisies, and there are woods and birds and cows
and farms?”--and Madge plunged into a description of the sights and
sounds of rural country life, whilst Allumette listened with a rapt
expression that was instantly caught and transferred to paper by the
delighted Cora.
“Well, Allumette, if you have not seen such things, you shall some day.
I shall look out for a nice farmhouse or cottage, where the woman will
take you in for a few weeks, and some day I shall send for you, and you
shall come down in the train and have a real good holiday, and go on
cultivating those roses in your cheeks which we are teaching to bloom
there now. Will that make up to you for going back to the streets for a
little while?”
The child’s face was answer enough. With such a prospect in view she
dreaded nothing, could bear with courage and equanimity the life of
the dusty streets. So through the last days she kept a brave face, and
when she saw the beautiful picture-books and the clothes she had had
given her made up into a parcel for her to take home, it seemed like an
earnest of those joys that were to come.
Tears swam in her eyes as she said good-bye, and was led away by the
gardener’s wife who was to take her back; but she held them bravely in
check, saying to herself--
“I shall see them again, I shall see them again. Miss Madge said she
would not forget.”
[Illustration: Decorative image]
CHAPTER IV.
AT BROOKLANDS.
“And you like your future home, my dear one? You think you can be happy
here?”
“Oh, Arthur! it is beautiful, beautiful! I think I never knew before
quite how exquisite everything was! I am only afraid of being too
happy!”
“That is an ailment we do not often suffer from in this world, Madge,”
he answered smilingly; “but I intend my wife to be the happiest woman
in the country. She shall not know an ungratified wish if I can help
it.”
“What a selfish creature she will become!” cried Madge with a soft
laugh, and an arch upward glance into her lover’s face; “I wonder how
soon you will grow tired of your bargain!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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