CHAPTER VI
INTIMATE FRIENDS
"Aunt Izzie, may I ask Imogen Clark to spend the day here on Saturday?"cried Katy, bursting in one afternoon.
"Who on earth is Imogen Clark? I never heard the name before,"replied her aunt.
"Oh, the _loveliest_ girl! She hasn't been going to Mrs. Knight's schoolbut a little while, but we're the greatest friends. And she's perfectlybeautiful, Aunt Izzie. Her hands are just as white as snow, and nobigger than _that_. She's got the littlest waist of any girl in school,and she's real sweet, and so self-denying and unselfish! I don't believeshe has a bit good times at home, either. Do let me ask her!"
"How do you know she's so sweet and self-denying, if you've known hersuch a short time?" asked Aunt Izzie, in an unpromising tone.
"Oh, she tells me everything! We always walk together at recess now. Iknow all about her, and she's just lovely! Her father used to be realrich, but they're poor now, and Imogen had to have her boots patchedtwice last winter. I guess she's the flower of her family. You can'tthink how I love her!" concluded Katy, sentimentally.
"No, I can't," said Aunt Izzie. "I never could see into these suddenfriendships of yours, Katy, and I'd rather you wouldn't invite thisImogen, or whatever her name is, till I've had a chance to ask somebodyabout her."
Katy clasped her hands in despair. "Oh, Aunt Izzie!" she cried, "Imogenknows that I came in to ask you, and she's standing at the gate at thismoment, waiting to hear what you say. Please let me, just this once! Ishall be so dreadfully ashamed not to."
"Well," said Miss Izzie, moved by the wretchedness of Katy's face, "ifyou've asked her already, it's no use my saying no, I suppose. Butrecollect, Katy, this is not to happen again. I can't have you invitinggirls, and then coming for my leave. Your father won't be at allpleased. He's very particular about whom you make friends with. Rememberhow Mrs. Spenser turned out."
Poor Katy! Her propensity to fall violently in love with new people wasalways getting her into scrapes. Ever since she began to walk and talk,"Katy's intimate friends" had been one of the jokes of the household.
Papa once undertook to keep a list of them, but the number grew so greatthat he gave it up in despair. First on the list was a small Irishchild, named Marianne O'Riley. Marianne lived in a street which Katypassed on her way to school. It was not Mrs. Knight's, but an ABCschool, to which Dorry and John now went. Marianne used to be alwaysmaking sand-pies in front of her mother's house, and Katy, who was aboutfive years old, often stopped to help her. Over this mutual pastry theygrew so intimate, that Katy resolved to adopt Marianne as her own littlegirl, and bring her up in a safe and hidden corner.
She told Clover of this plan, but nobody else. The two children, full oftheir delightful secret, began to save pieces of bread and cookies fromtheir supper every evening. By degrees they collected a great heap ofdry crusts, and other refreshments, which they put safely away in thegarret. They also saved the apples which were given them for two weeks,and made a bed in a big empty box, with cotton quilts, and the dolls'pillows out of the baby-house. When all was ready, Katy broke the planto her beloved Marianne, and easily persuaded her to run away and takepossession of this new home.
"We won't tell Papa and Mamma till she's quite grown up," Katy said toClover; "then we'll bring her down stairs, and _won't_ they besurprised? Don't let's call her Marianne any longer, either. It isn'tpretty. We'll name her Susquehanna instead--Susquehanna Carr. Recollect,Marianne, you mustn't answer if I call you Marianne--only when I saySusquehanna."
"Yes'm," replied Marianne, very meekly.
For a whole day all went on delightfully. Susquehanna lived in herwooden box, ate all the apples and the freshest cookies, and was happy.The two children took turns to steal away and play with the "Baby," asthey called Marianne, though she was a great deal bigger than Clover.But when night came on, and nurse swooped on Katy and Clover, andcarried them off to bed, Miss O'Riley began to think that the garret wasa dreadful place. Peeping out of her box, she could see black thingsstanding in corners, which she did not recollect seeing in the day-time.They were really trunks and brooms and warming-pans, but somehow, in thedarkness, they looked different--big and awful. Poor little Mariannebore it as long as she could; but when at last a rat began to scratch inthe wall close beside her, her courage gave way entirely, and shescreamed at the top of her voice.
"What is that?" said Dr. Carr, who had just come in, and was on his wayup stairs.
"It sounds as if it came from the attic," said Mrs. Carr (for this wasbefore Mamma died). "Can it be that one of the children has got out ofbed and wandered up stairs in her sleep?"
No, Katy and Clover were safe in the nursery; so Dr. Carr took acandle and went as fast as he could to the attic, where the yells weregrowing terrific. When he reached the top of the stairs, the criesceased. He looked about. Nothing was to be seen at first, then alittle head appeared over the edge of a big wooden box, and a piteousvoice sobbed out:
"Ah, Miss Katy, and indeed I can't be stayin' any longer. There'srats in it!"
"Who on earth _are_ you?" asked the amazed Doctor.
"Sure I'm Miss Katy's and Miss Clover's Baby. But I don't want to be ababy any longer. I want to go home and see my mother." And again thepoor little midge lifted up her voice and wept.
I don't think Dr. Carr ever laughed so hard in his life, as whenfinally he got to the bottom of the story, and found that Katy andClover had been "adopting" a child. But he was very kind to poorSusquehanna, and carried her down stairs in his arms, to the nursery.There, in a bed close to the other children, she soon forgot hertroubles and fell asleep.
The little sisters were much surprised when they waked up in themorning, and found their Baby asleep beside them. But their joy wasspeedily turned to tears. After breakfast, Dr. Carr carried Mariannehome to her mother, who was in a great fright over her disappearance,and explained to the children that the garret plan must be given up.Great was the mourning in the nursery; but as Marianne was allowed tocome and play with them now and then, they gradually got over theirgrief. A few months later Mr. O'Riley moved away from Burnet, and thatwas the end of Katy's first friendship.
The next was even funnier. There was a queer old black woman who livedall alone by herself in a small house near the school. This old womanhad a very bad temper. The neighbors told horrible stories about her, sothat the children were afraid to pass the house. They used to turnalways just before they reached it, and cross to the other side of thestreet. This they did so regularly, that their feet had worn a path inthe grass. But for some reason Katy found a great fascination in thelittle house. She liked to dodge about the door, always holding herselfready to turn and run in case the old woman rushed out upon her with abroomstick. One day she begged a large cabbage of Alexander, and rolledit in at the door of the house. The old woman seemed to like it, andafter this Katy always stopped to speak when she went by. She even gotso far as to sit on the step and watch the old woman at work. There wasa sort of perilous pleasure in doing this. It was like sitting at theentrance of a lion's cage, uncertain at what moment his Majesty mighttake it into his head to give a spring and eat you up.
After this, Katy took a fancy to a couple of twin sisters, daughters ofa German jeweller. They were quite grown-up, and always wore dressesexactly alike. Hardly any one could tell them apart. They spoke verylittle English, and as Katy didn't know a word of German, theirintercourse was confined to smiles, and to the giving of bunches offlowers, which Katy used to tie up and present to them whenever theypassed the gate. She was too shy to do more than just put the flowers intheir hands and run away; but the twins were evidently pleased, for oneday, when Clover happened to be looking out of the window, she saw themopen the gate, fasten a little parcel to a bush, and walk rapidly off.Of course she called Katy at once, and the two children flew out to seewhat the parcel was. It held a bonnet--a beautiful doll's bonnet of bluesilk, trimmed with artificial flowers; upon it was pinned a slip ofpaper with these words, in an odd foreig
n hand:
"To the nice little girl who was so kindly to give us some flowers."
You can judge whether Katy and Clover were pleased or not.
This was when Katy was six years old. I can't begin to tell you how manydifferent friends she had set up since then. There was an ash-man, and asteam-boat captain. There was Mrs. Sawyer's cook, a nice old woman, whogave Katy lessons in cooking, and taught her to make soft custard andsponge-cake. There was a bonnet-maker, pretty and dressy, whom, to AuntIzzie's great indignation, Katy persisted in calling "Cousin Estelle!"There was a thief in the town-jail, under whose window Katy used tostand, saying, "I'm so sorry, poor man!" and "have you got any littlegirls like me?" in the most piteous way. The thief had a piece of stringwhich he let down from the window. Katy would tie rosebuds and cherriesto this string, and the thief would draw them up. It was so interestingto do this, that Katy felt dreadfully when they carried the man off tothe State Prison. Then followed a short interval of Cornelia Perham, anice, good-natured girl, whose father was a fruit-merchant. I am afraidKaty's liking for prunes and white grapes played a part in thisintimacy. It was splendid fun to go with Cornelia to her father's bigshop, and have whole boxes of raisins and drums of figs opened for theiramusement, and be allowed to ride up and down in the elevator as much asthey liked. But of all Katy's queer acquaintances, Mrs. Spenser, to whomAunt Izzie had alluded, was the queerest.
Mrs. Spenser was a mysterious lady whom nobody ever saw. Her husband wasa handsome, rather bad-looking man, who had come from parts unknown, andrented a small house in Burnet. He didn't seem to have any particularbusiness, and was away from home a great deal. His wife was said to bean invalid, and people, when they spoke of him, shook their heads andwondered how the poor woman got on all alone in the house, while herhusband was absent.
Of course Katy was too young to understand these whispers, or thereasons why people were not disposed to think well of Mr. Spenser. Theromance of the closed door and the lady whom nobody saw, interested hervery much. She used to stop and stare at the windows, and wonder whatwas going on inside, till at last it seemed as if she _must_ know. So,one day she took some flowers and Victoria, her favorite doll, andboldly marched into the Spensers' yard.
She tapped at the front door, but nobody answered. Then she tappedagain. Still nobody answered. She tried the door. It was locked. Soshouldering Victoria, she trudged round to the back of the house. As shepassed the side-door she saw that it was open a little way. She knockedfor the third time, and as no one came, she went in, and passing throughthe little hall, began to tap at all the inside doors.
There seemed to be no people in the house, Katy peeped into the kitchenfirst. It was bare and forlorn. All sorts of dishes were standing about.There was no fire in the stove. The parlor was not much better. Mr.Spenser's boots lay in the middle of the floor. There were dirty glasseson the table. On the mantel-piece was a platter with bones of meat uponit. Dust lay thick over everything, and the whole house looked as if ithadn't been lived in for at least a year.
Katy tried several other doors, all of which were locked, and then shewent up stairs. As she stood on the top step, grasping her flowers, anda little doubtful what to do next, a feeble voice from a bed-roomcalled out:
"Who is there?"
This was Mrs. Spenser. She was lying on her bed, which was very tossedand tumbled, as if it hadn't been made up that morning. The room was asdisorderly and dirty as all the rest of the house, and Mrs. Spenser'swrapper and night-cap were by no means clean, but her face was sweet,and she had beautiful curling hair, which fell over the pillow. She wasevidently very sick, and altogether Katy felt sorrier for her than shehad ever done for anybody in her life.
"Who are you, child?" asked Mrs. Spenser.
"I'm Dr. Carr's little girl," answered Katy, going straight up to thebed. "I came to bring you some flowers." And she laid the bouquet on thedirty sheet.
Mrs. Spenser seemed to like the flowers. She took them up and smelledthem for a long time, without speaking.
"But how did you get in?" she said at last.
"The door was open," faltered Katy, who was beginning to feel scared ather own daring, "and they said you were sick, so I thought perhaps youwould like me to come and see you."
"You are a kind little girl," said Mrs. Spenser, and gave her a kiss.
After this Katy used to go every day. Sometimes Mrs. Spenser would be upand moving feebly about; but more often she was in bed, and Katy wouldsit beside her. The house never looked a bit better than it did thatfirst day, but after a while Katy used to brush Mrs. Spenser's hair, andwash her face with the corner of a towel.
I think her visits were a comfort to the poor lady, who was very ill andlonely. Sometimes, when she felt pretty well, she would tell Katystories about the time when she was a little girl and lived at home withher father and mother. But she never spoke of Mr. Spenser, and Katynever saw him except once, when she was so frightened that for severaldays she dared not go near the house. At last Cecy reported that she hadseen him go off in the stage with his carpet-bag, so Katy ventured inagain. Mrs. Spenser cried when she saw her.
"I thought you were never coming any more," she said.
Katy was touched and flattered at having been missed, and after that shenever lost a day. She always carried the prettiest flowers she couldfind, and if any one gave her a specially nice peach or a bunch ofgrapes, she saved it for Mrs. Spenser.
Aunt Izzie was much worried at all this. But Dr. Carr would notinterfere. He said it was a case where grown people could do nothing,and if Katy was a comfort to the poor lady he was glad. Katy was gladtoo, and the visits did her as much good as they did Mrs. Spenser, forthe intense pity she felt for the sick woman made her gentle and patientas she had never been before.
One day she stopped, as usual, on her way home from school. She triedthe side-door--it was locked; the back-door, it was locked too. All theblinds were shut tight. This was very puzzling.
As she stood in the yard a woman put her head out of the window ofthe next house. "It's no use knocking," she said, "all the folks havegone away."
"Gone away where?" asked Katy.
"Nobody knows," said the woman; "the gentleman came back in the middleof the night, and this morning, before light, he had a wagon at thedoor, and just put in the trunks and the sick lady, and drove off.There's been more than one a-knocking besides you, since then. But Mr.Pudgett, he's got the key, and nobody can get in without goin' to him."
It was too true. Mrs. Spenser was gone, and Katy never saw her again. Ina few days it came out that Mr. Spenser was a very bad man, and had beenmaking false money--_counterfeiting_, as grown people call it. Thepolice were searching for him to put him in jail, and that was thereason he had come back in such a hurry and carried off his poor sickwife. Aunt Izzie cried with mortification, when she heard this. She saidshe thought it was a disgrace that Katy should have been visiting in acounterfeiter's family. But Dr. Carr only laughed. He told Aunt Izziethat he didn't think that kind of crime was catching, and as for Mrs.Spenser, she was much to be pitied. But Aunt Izzie could not get overher vexation, and every now and then, when she was vexed, she wouldrefer to the affair, though this all happened so long ago that mostpeople had forgotten all about it, and Philly and John had stoppedplaying at "Putting Mr. Spenser in Jail," which for a long time was oneof their favorite games.
Katy always felt badly when Aunt Izzie spoke unkindly of her poor sickfriend. She had tears in her eyes now, as she walked to the gate, andlooked so very sober, that Imogen Clark, who stood there waiting,clasped her hands and said:
"Ah, I see! Your aristocratic Aunt refuses."
Imogen's real name was Elizabeth. She was rather a pretty girl, with ascrewed-up, sentimental mouth, shiny brown hair, and a little round curlon each of her cheeks. These curls must have been fastened on with glueor tin tacks, one would think, for they never moved, however much shelaughed or shook her head. Imogen was a bright girl, naturally, but shehad read so many novels that h
er brain was completely turned. It waspartly this which made her so attractive to Katy, who adored stories,and thought Imogen was a real heroine of romance.
"Oh no, she doesn't," she replied, hardly able to keep from laughing, atthe idea of Aunt Izzie's being called an "aristocratic relative"--"shesays she shall be my hap--" But here Katy's conscience gave a prick, andthe sentence ended in "um, um, um--" "So you'll come, won't you,darling? I am so glad!"
"And I!" said Imogen, turning up her eyes theatrically.
From this time on till the end of the week, the children talked ofnothing but Imogen's visit, and the nice time they were going to have.Before breakfast on Saturday morning, Katy and Clover were at workbuilding a beautiful bower of asparagus boughs under the trees. All theplaythings were set out in order. Debby baked them some cinnamon cakes,the kitten had a pink ribbon tied round her neck, and the dolls,including "Pikery," were arrayed in their best clothes.
About half-past ten Imogen arrived. She was dressed in a light-bluebarege, with low neck and short sleeves, and wore coral beads in herhair, white satin slippers, and a pair of yellow gloves. The gloves andslippers were quite dirty, and the barege was old and darned; but thegeneral effect was so very gorgeous, that the children, who were dressedfor play, in gingham frocks and white aprons, were quite dazzled at theappearance of their guest.
"Oh, Imogen, you look just like a young lady in a story!" said simpleKaty; whereupon Imogen tossed her head and rustled her skirts about morethan ever.
Somehow, with these fine clothes, Imogen seemed to have put on a finemanner, quite different from the one she used every day. You know somepeople always do, when they go out visiting. You would almost havesupposed that this was a different Imogen, who was kept in a box most ofthe time, and taken out for Sundays and grand occasions. She swam about,and diddled, and lisped, and looked at herself in the glass, and wasgenerally grown-up and airy. When Aunt Izzie spoke to her, she flutteredand behaved so queerly, that Clover almost laughed; and even Katy, whocould see nothing wrong in people she loved, was glad to carry her awayto the playroom.
"Come out to the bower," she said, putting her arm round the bluebarege waist.
"A bower!" cried Imogen. "How sweet!" But when they reached theasparagus boughs her face fell. "Why it hasn't any roof, or pinnacles,or any fountain!" she said.
"Why no, of course not," said Clover, staring, "we made it ourselves."
"Oh!" said Imogen. She was evidently disappointed. Katy and Clover feltmortified; but as their visitor did not care for the bower, they triedto think of something else.
"Let us go to the Loft," they said.
So they all crossed the yard together. Imogen picked her way daintilyin the white satin slippers, but when she saw the spiked post, shegave a scream.
"Oh, not up there, darling, not up there!". she cried; "never, never!"
"Oh, do try! It's just as easy as can be," pleaded Katy, going up anddown half a dozen times in succession to show how easy it was. ButImogen wouldn't be persuaded.
"Do not ask me," she said affectedly; "my nerves would never stand sucha thing! And besides--my dress!"
"What made you wear it?" said Philly, who was a plain-spoken child, andgiven to questions. While John whispered to Dorry, "That's a real stupidgirl. Let's go off somewhere and play by ourselves."
So, one by one, the small fry crept away, leaving Katy and Clover toentertain the visitor by themselves. They tried dolls, but Imogen didnot care for dolls. Then they proposed to sit down in the shade, and capverses, a game they all liked. But Imogen said that though she adoredpoetry, she never could remember any. So it ended in their going to theorchard, where Imogen ate a great many plums and early apples, andreally seemed to enjoy herself. But when she could eat no more, adreadful dulness fell over the party. At last Imogen said:
"Don't you ever sit in the drawing-room?"
"The what?" asked Clover.
"The drawing-room," repeated Imogen.
"Oh, she means the parlor!" cried Katy. "No, we don't sit there exceptwhen Aunt Izzie has company to tea. It is all dark and poky, you know.Beside, it's so much pleasanter to be out-doors. Don't you think so?"
"Yes, sometimes," replied Imogen, doubtfully, "but I think it would bepleasant to go in and sit there for a while, now. My head achesdreadfully, being out here in this horrid sun."
Katy was at her wit's end to know what to do. They scarcely ever wentinto the parlor, which Aunt Izzie regarded as a sort of sacred place.She kept cotton petticoats over all the chairs for fear of dust, andnever opened the blinds for fear of flies. The idea of children withdusty boots going in there to sit! On the other hand, Katy's naturalpoliteness made it hard to refuse a visitor anything she asked for. Andbeside, it was dreadful to think that Imogen might go away and report"Katy Carr isn't allowed to sit in the best room, even when she hascompany!" With a quaking heart she led the way to the parlor. She darednot open the blinds, so the room looked very dark. She could just seeImogen's figure as she sat on the sofa, and Clover twirling uneasilyabout on the piano-stool. All the time she kept listening to hear ifAunt Izzie were not coming, and altogether the parlor was a dismal placeto her; not half so pleasant as the asparagus bower, where they feltperfectly safe.
But Imogen, who, for the first time, seemed comfortable, began to talk.Her talk was about herself. Such stories she told about the thingswhich had happened to her! All the young ladies in The Ledger puttogether, never had stranger adventures. Gradually, Katy and Clover gotso interested that they left their seats and crouched down close to thesofa, listening with open mouths to these stories. Katy forgot tolisten for Aunt Izzie. The parlor door swung open, but she did notnotice it. She did not even hear the front door shut, when Papa camehome to dinner.
Dr. Carr, stopping in the hall to glance over his newspaper, heard thehigh-pitched voice running on in the parlor. At first he hardlylistened; then these words caught his ear:
"Oh, it was lovely, girls, perfectly delicious! I suppose I did lookwell, for I was all in white, with my hair let down, and just one rose,you know, here on top. And he leaned over me, and said in a low, deeptone, 'Lady, I am a Brigand, but I feel the enchanting power of yourbeauty. You are free!'"
Dr. Carr pushed the door open a little farther. Nothing was to be seenbut some indistinct figures, but he heard Katy's voice in an eager tone:
"Oh, _do_ go on. What happened next?"
"Who on earth have the children got in the parlor?" he asked Aunt Izzie,whom he found in the dining-room.
"The parlor!" cried Miss Izzie, wrathfully, "why, what are they therefor?" Then going to the door, she called out, "Children, what are youdoing in the parlor? Come out right away. I thought you were playingout-doors."
"Imogen had a head-ache," faltered Katy. The three girls came out intothe hall; Clover and Katy looking scared, and even the Enchanter of theBrigand quite crest-fallen.
"Oh," said Aunt Izzie, grimly, "I am sorry to hear that. Probably youare bilious. Would you like some camphor or anything?"
"No, thank you," replied Imogen, meekly. But afterwards shewhispered to Katy:
"Your aunt isn't very nice, I think. She's just like Jackima, thathorrid old woman I told you about, who lived in the Brigand's Cave anddid the cooking.
"I don't think you're a bit polite to tell me so," retorted Katy, veryangry at this speech.
"Oh, never mind, dear, don't take it to heart!" replied Imogen, sweetly."We can't help having relations that ain't nice, you know."
The visit was evidently not a success. Papa was very civil to Imogen atdinner, but he watched her closely, and Katy saw a comical twinkle inhis eye, which she did not like. Papa had very droll eyes. They saweverything, and sometimes they seemed to talk almost as distinctly ashis tongue. Katy began to feel low-spirited. She confessed afterwardthat she should never have got through the afternoon if she hadn't runup stairs two or three times, and comforted herself by reading a littlein "Rosamond."
"Aren't you glad she's gone?" whispered Clover, a
s they stood at thegate together watching Imogen walk down the street.
"Oh, Clover! how can you?" said Katy But she gave Clover a great hug,and I think in her heart she _was_ glad.
"Katy," said Papa, next day, "you came into the room then, exactly likeyour new friend Miss Clark."
"How? I don't know what you mean," answered Katy, blushing deeply.
"_So_," said Dr. Carr; and he got up, raising his shoulders and squaringhis elbows, and took a few mincing steps across the room. Katy couldn'thelp laughing, it was so funny, and so like Imogen. Then Papa sat downagain and drew her close to him.
"My dear," he said, "you're an affectionate child, and I'm glad ofit. But there is such a thing as throwing away one's affection. Ididn't fancy that little girl at all yesterday. What makes you likeher so much?"
"I didn't like her so much, yesterday," admitted Katy, reluctantly."She's a great deal nicer than that at school, sometimes."
"I'm glad to hear it," said her father. "For I should be sorry to thinkthat you really admired such silly manners. And what was that nonsense Iheard her telling you about Brigands?"
"It really hap--" began Katy.--Then she caught Papa's eye, and bit herlip, for he looked very quizzical. "Well," she went on, laughing, "Isuppose it didn't really all happen;--but it was ever so funny, Papa,even if it was a make-up. And Imogen's just as good-natured as can be.All the girls like her."
"Make-ups are all very well," said Papa, "as long as people don't try tomake you believe they are true. When they do that, it seems to me itcomes too near the edge of falsehood to be very safe or pleasant. If Iwere you, Katy, I'd be a little shy of swearing eternal friendship forMiss Clark. She may be good-natured, as you say, but I think two orthree years hence she won't seem so nice to you as she does now. Give mea kiss, Chick, and run away, for there's Alexander with the buggy."
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