An Old-Fashioned Girl

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An Old-Fashioned Girl Page 12

by Louisa May Alcott


  "Did she?" And all the little girls looked deeply impressed, till Maud observed, with a funny imitation of her father's manner, "My papa said it was scan-dill-us; for some of the little boys got tipsy, and had to be tooked home. He would n't let us have any wine; and gwandma said it was vewy impwoper for childwen to do so."

  "My mother says your mother's coup, is n't half so stylish as ours," put in Alice.

  "Yes, it is, too. It 's all lined with gween silk, and that 's nicer than old wed cloth," cried Maud, ruffling up like an insulted chicken.

  "Well, my brother don't wear a horrid old cap, and he 's got nice hair. I would n't have a brother like Tom. He 's horrid rude, my sister says," retorted Alice.

  "He is n't. Your brother is a pig."

  "You 're a fib!"

  "So are you!"

  Here, I regret to say, Miss Shaw slapped Miss Lovett, who promptly returned the compliment, and both began to cry.

  Polly, who had paused to listen to the edifying chat, parted the belligerents, and finding the poor things tired, cross, and sleepy, yet unable to go home till sent for, proposed to play games. The young ladies consented, and "Puss in the corner" proved a peacemaker. Presently, in came the boys; and being exiles from the German, gladly joined in the games, which soon were lively enough to wake the sleepiest. "Blind-man's-buff" was in full swing when Mr. Shaw peeped in, and seeing Polly flying about with band-aged eyes, joined in the fun to puzzle her. He got caught directly; and great merriment was caused by Polly's bewilderment, for she could n't guess who he was, till she felt the bald spot on his head.

  This frolic put every one in such spirits, that Polly forgot her trouble, and the little girls kissed each other good-night as affectionately as if such things as imported frocks, coup,s, and rival brothers did n't exist "Well, Polly, do you like parties?" asked Fan when the last guest was gone.

  "Very much; but I don't think it would be good for me to go to many," answered Polly, slowly.

  "Why not?"

  "I should n't enjoy them if I did n't have a fine dress, and dance all the time, and be admired, and all the rest of it."

  "I did n't know you cared for such things," cried Fanny, surprised.

  "Neither did I till to-night; but I do; and as I can't have 'em, it 's lucky I 'm going home tomorrow."

  "Oh, dear! So you are! What shall I do without my 'sweet P.,' as Sydney calls you?"

  sighed Fanny, bearing Polly away to be cuddled.

  Every one echoed the exclamation next day; and many loving eyes followed the little figure in the drab frock as it went quietly about, doing for the last time the small services which would help to make its absence keenly felt. Polly was to go directly after an early dinner, and having packed her trunk, all but one tray, she was told to go and take a run while grandma finished. Polly suspected that some pleasant surprise was going to be put in; for Fan did n't offer to go with her, Maud kept dodging about with something under her apron, and Tom had just whisked into his mother's room in a mysterious manner. So Polly took the hint and went away, rejoicing in the thought of the unknown treasures she was to carry home.

  Mr. Shaw had not said he should come home so early, but Polly thought he might, and went to meet him. Mr. Shaw did n't expect to see Polly, for he had left her very busy, and now a light snow was falling; but, as he turned into the mall there was the round hat, and under it the bright face, looking all the rosier for being powdered with snow-flakes, as Polly came running to meet him.

  "There won't be any one to help the old gentleman safely home to-morrow," he said, as Polly took his hand in both hers with an affectionate squeeze.

  "Yes, there will; see if there is n't," cried Polly, nodding and smiling, for Fan had confided to her that she meant to try it after her friend had gone.

  "I 'm glad of it. But, my dear, I want you to promise that you will come and make us a visit every winter, a good long one," said Mr. Shaw, patting the blue mittens folded round his hand.

  "If they can spare me from home, I 'd love to come dearly."

  "They must lend you for a little while, because you do us all good, and we need you."

  "Do I? I don't see how; but I 'm glad to hear you say so," cried Polly, much touched.

  "I can't tell you how, exactly; but you brought something into my house that makes it warmer and pleasanter, and won't quite vanish, I hope, when you go away, my child."

  Polly had never heard Mr. Shaw speak like that before, and did n't know what to say, she felt so proud and happy at this proof of the truth of her mother's words, when she said that "even a little girl could exert an influence, and do some good in this big, busy world." She only gave her friend a grateful look sweeter than any words, and they went on together, hand in hand, through the "soft-falling snow."

  If Polly could have seen what went into that top tray, she would have been entirely overcome; for Fanny had told grandma about the poor little presents she had once laughed at, and they had all laid their heads together to provide something really fine and appropriate for every member of the Milton family. Such a mine of riches! and so much good-will, affection, and kindly forethought was packed away in the tempting bundles, that no one could feel offended, but would find an unusual charm about the pretty gifts that made them doubly welcome. I only know that if Polly had suspected that a little watch was ticking away in a little case, with her name on it, inside that trunk, she never could have left it locked as grandma advised, or have eaten her dinner so quietly.

  As it was, her heart was very full, and the tears rose to her eyes more than once, everyone was so kind, and so sorry to have her go.

  Tom did n't need any urging to play escort now; and both Fan and Maud insisted on going too. Mrs. Shaw forgot her nerves, and put up some gingerbread with her own hands; Mr. Shaw kissed Polly as if she had been his dearest daughter; and grandma held her close, whispering in a tremulous tone, "My little comfort, come again soon"; while Katy waved her apron from the nursery window, crying, as they drove, away, "The saints bless ye, Miss Polly, dear, and sind ye the best of lucks!"

  But the crowning joke of all was Tom's good-by, for, when Polly was fairly settled in the car, the last "All aboard!" uttered, and the train in motion, Tom suddenly produced a knobby little bundle, and thrusting it in at the window, while he hung on in some breakneck fashion, said, with a droll mixture of fun and feeling in his face, "It 's horrid; but you wanted it, so I put it in to make you laugh. Good-by, Polly; good-by, good-by!"

  The last adieu was a trifle husky, and Tom vanished as it was uttered, leaving Polly to laugh over his parting souvenir till the tears ran down her cheeks. It was a paper bag of peanuts, and poked down at the very bottom a photograph of Tom. It was "horrid," for he looked as if taken by a flash of lightning, so black, wild, and staring was it; but Polly liked it, and whenever she felt a little pensive at parting with her friends, she took a peanut, or a peep at Tom's funny picture, which made her merry again.

  So the short journey came blithely to an end, and in the twilight she saw a group of loving faces at the door of a humble little house, which was more beautiful than any palace in her eyes, for it was home.

  8. Six Years Afterward

  "WHAT do you think Polly is going to do this winter?" exclaimed Fanny, looking up from the letter she had been eagerly reading.

  "Going to deliver lectures on Woman's Rights," said the young gentleman who was carefully examining his luxuriant crop of decidedly auburn hair, as he lounged with both elbows on the chimney-piece.

  "Going to set her cap for some young minister and marry him in the spring," added Mrs.

  Shaw, whose mind ran a good deal upon match-making just now.

  "I think she is going to stay at home, and do all the work, 'cause servants cost so much; it would be just like her," observed Maud, who could pronounce the letter R now.

  "It 's my opinion she is going to open a school, or something of that sort, to help those brothers of hers along," said Mr. Shaw, who had put down his paper at the s
ound of Polly's name.

  "Every one of you wrong, though papa comes nearest the truth," cried Fanny; "she is going to give music lessons, and support herself, so that Will may go to college. He is the studious one, and Polly is very proud of him. Ned, the other brother, has a business talent, and don't care for books, so he has gone out West, and will make his own way anywhere. Polly says she is n't needed at home now, the family is so small, and Kitty can take her place nicely; so she is actually going to earn her own living, and hand over her share of the family income to Will. What a martyr that girl does make of herself," and Fanny looked as solemn as if Polly had proposed some awful self-sacrifice.

  "She is a sensible, brave-hearted girl, and I respect her for doing it," said Mr. Shaw, emphatically. "One never knows what may happen, and it does no harm for young people to learn to be independent."

  "If she is as pretty as she was last time I saw her, she 'll get pupils fast enough. I would n't mind taking lessons myself," was the gracious observation of Shaw, Jr., as he turned from the mirror, with the soothing certainty that his objectionable hair actually was growing darker.

  "She would n't take you at any price," said Fanny, remembering Polly's look of disappointment and disapproval when she came on her last visit and found him an unmistakable dandy.

  "You just wait and see," was the placid reply.

  "If Polly does carry out her plan, I wish Maud to take lessons of her; Fanny can do as she likes, but it would please me very much to have one of my girls sing as Polly sings.

  It suits old people better than your opera things, and mother used to enjoy it so much."

  As he spoke, Mr. Shaw's eye turned toward the comer of the fire where grandma used to sit. The easy-chair was empty now, the kind old face was gone, and nothing but a very tender memory remained.

  "I 'd like to learn, papa, and Polly is a splendid teacher, I know; she 's always so patient, and makes everything so pleasant. I do hope she will get scholars enough to begin right away," said Maud.

  "When is she coming?" asked Mrs. Shaw, quite willing to help Polly, but privately resolving that Maud should be finished off by the most fashionable master in the city.

  "She does n't say. She thanks me for asking her here, as usual, but says she shall go right to work and had better begin with her own little room at once. Won't it seem strange to have Polly in town, and yet not with us?"

  "We 'll get her somehow. The little room will cost something, and she can stay with us just as well as not, even if she does teach. Tell her I say so," said Mr. Shaw.

  "She won't come, I know; for if she undertakes to be independent, she 'll do it in the most thorough manner," answered Fanny, and Mrs. Shaw sincerely hoped she would. It was all very well to patronize the little music-teacher, but it was not so pleasant to have her settled in the family.

  "I shall do what I can for her among my friends, and I dare say she will get on very well with young pupils to begin with. If she starts right, puts her terms high enough, and gets a few good names to give her the entr,e into our first families, I don't doubt she will do nicely, for I must say Polly has the manners of a lady," observed Mrs. Shaw.

  "She 's a mighty taking little body, and I 'm glad she 's to be in town, though I 'd like it better if she did n't bother about teaching, but just stayed here and enjoyed herself,"

  said Tom, lazily.

  "I 've no doubt she would feel highly honored to be allowed to devote her time to your amusement; but she can't afford expensive luxuries, and she don't approve of flirting, so you will have to let her go her own way, and refresh herself with such glimpses of you as her engagements permit," answered Fanny, in the sarcastic tone which was be coming habitual to her.

  "You are getting to be a regular old maid, Fan; as sharp as a lemon, and twice as sour,"

  returned Tom, looking down at her with an air of calm superiority.

  "Do be quiet, children; you know I can't bear anything like contention. Maud, give me my Shetland shawl, and put a cushion at my back."

  As Maud obeyed her mother, with a reproving look at her erring brother and sister, a pause followed, for which every one seemed grateful. They were sitting about the fire after dinner, and all looked as if a little sunshine would do them good. It had been a dull November day, but all of a sudden the clouds lifted, and a bright ray shot into the room.

  Every one turned involuntarily to welcome it, and every one cried out, "Why, Polly!" for there on the threshold stood a bright-faced girl, smiling as if there was no such thing as November weather in the world.

  "You dear thing, when did you come?" cried Fanny, kissing both the blooming checks with real affection, while the rest hovered near, waiting for a chance.

  "I came yesterday, and have been getting my nest in order; but I could n't keep away any longer, so I ran up to say 'How do you do?'" answered Polly, in the cheery voice that did one's heart good to hear.

  "My Polly always brings the sunshine with her," and Mr. Shaw held out his hands to his little friend, for she was his favorite still.

  It was good to see her put both arms about his neck, and give him a tender kiss, that said a great deal, for grandma had died since Polly met him last and she longed to comfort him, seeing how gray and old he had grown.

  If Tom had had any thoughts of following his father's example, something in Polly's manner made him change his mind, and shake hands with a hearty "I 'm very glad to see you, Polly," adding to himself, as he looked at the face in the modest little bonnet:

  "Prettier than ever, by Jove!"

  There was something more than mere prettiness in Polly's face, though Tom had not learned to see it yet. The blue eyes were clear and steady, the fresh mouth frank and sweet, the white chin was a very firm one in spite of the dimple, and the smooth forehead under the little curls had a broad, benevolent arch; while all about the face were those unmistakable lines and curves which can make even a plain countenance comely, by breathing into it the beauty of a lovely character. Polly had grown up, but she had no more style now than in the days of the round hat and rough coat, for she was all in gray, like a young Quakeress, with no ornament but a blue bow at the throat and another in the hair. Yet the plain suit became her excellently, and one never thought of the dress, looking at the active figure that wore it, for the freedom of her childhood gave to Polly that good gift, health, and every movement was full of the vigor, grace, and ease, which nothing else can so surely bestow. A happy soul in a healthy body is a rare sight in these days, when doctors flourish and every one is ill, and this pleasant union was the charm which Polly possessed without knowing it.

  "It does seem so good to have you here again," said Maud, cuddling Polly's cold hand, as she sat at her feet, when she was fairly established between Fanny and Mr. Shaw, while Tom leaned on the back of his mother's chair, and enjoyed the prospect.

  "How do you get on? When do you begin? Where is your nest? Now tell all about it,"

  began Fanny, who was full of curiosity about the new plan.

  "I shall get on very well, I think, for I 've got twelve scholars to begin with, all able to pay a good price, and I shall give my first lesson on Monday."

  "Don't you dread it?" asked Fanny.

  "Not much; why should I?" answered Polly, stoutly.

  "Well, I don't know; it 's a new thing, and must be a little bit hard at first," stammered Fanny, not liking to say that working for one's living seemed a dreadful hardship to her.

  "It will be tiresome, of course, but I shall get used to it; I shall like the exercise, and the new people and places I must see will amuse me. Then the independence will be delightful, and if I can save a little to help Kitty along with, that will be best of all."

  Polly's face shone as if the prospect was full of pleasure instead of work, and the hearty good will with which she undertook the new task, seemed to dignify her humble hopes and plans, and make them interesting in the sight of others.

  "Who have you got for pupils?" asked Mrs. Shaw, forgetting her
nerves for a minute.

  Polly named her list, and took a secret satisfaction in seeing the impression which certain names made upon her hearers.

  "How in the world did you get the Davenports and the Greys, my dear?" said Mrs.

  Shaw, sitting erect in her surprise.

  "Mrs. Davenport and mother are relations, you know."

  "You never told us that before!" "The Davenports have been away some years, and I forgot all about them. But when I was making my plan, I knew I must have a good name or two to set me going, so I just wrote and asked Mrs. D. if she would help me. She came and saw us and was very kind, and has got these pupils for me, like a dear, good woman as she is."

  "Where did you learn so much worldly wisdom, Polly?" asked Mr. Shaw, as his wife fell back in her chair, and took out her salts, as if this discovery had been too much for her.

  "I learnt it here, sir," answered Polly, laughing. "I used to think patronage and things of that sort very disagreeable and not worth having, but I 've got wiser, and to a certain extent I 'm glad to use whatever advantages I have in my power, if they can be honestly got."

  "Why did n't you let us help you in the beginning? We should have been very glad to, I

  'm sure," put in Mrs. Shaw, who quite burned to be known as a joint patroness with Mrs.

  Davenport.

  "I know you would, but you have all been so kind to me I did n't want to trouble you with my little plans till the first steps were taken. Besides, I did n't know as you would like to recommend me as a teacher, though you like me well enough as plain Polly."

  "My dear, of course I would, and we want you to take Maud at once, and teach her your sweet songs. She has a fine voice, and is really suffering for a teacher."

  A slight smile passed over Polly's face as she returned her thanks for the new pupil, for she remembered a time when Mrs. Shaw considered her "sweet songs" quite unfit for a fashionable young lady's repertoire. "Where is your room?" asked Maud.

 

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