‘It was a great deal of trouble at first to have to think and plan to keep my room and myself looking nice. But after a while it grew to be a habit, and then it became easy. And the pleasure it gave my dear father repaid for all. He had been proud of his active, healthy girl, but I think she was never such a comfort to him as his sick one lying there in the bed. My room was his favourite sitting-place, and he spent so much time there that now the room and everything in it makes me think of him.’
There were tears in Cousin Helen’s eyes as she ceased speaking.
But Katy looked bright and eager. It seemed somehow to be a help, as well as a great surprise, that ever there should have been a time when Cousin Helen was less perfect than she was now.
‘Do you really think I could do so too?’ she asked.
‘Do what? Comb your hair?’ Cousin Helen was smiling now.
‘Oh no! Be nice and sweet and patient, and a comfort to people. You know what I mean.’
‘I am sure you can, if you try.’
‘But what would you do first?’ asked Katy; who, now that her mind had grasped a new idea, was eager to begin.
‘Well – first I would open the blinds, and make the room look a little less dismal. Are you taking all those medicines in the bottles now?’
‘No – only that big one with the blue label.’
‘Then you might ask Aunt Izzie to take away the others. And I’d get Clover to pick a bunch of fresh flowers every day for your table. By the way, I don’t see the little white vase.’
‘No; it got broken the very day after you went away; the day I fell out of the swing,’ said Katy, sorrowfully.
‘Never mind, pet, don’t look so doleful. I know the tree those vases grow upon, and you shall have another. Then after the room is made pleasant, I would have all my lesson-books fetched up, if I were you, and I would study a couple of hours every morning.’
‘Oh!’ cried Katy, making a wry face at the idea.
Cousin Helen smiled. ‘I know,’ said she, ‘it sounds like dull work, learning geography and doing sums up here all by yourself. But I think if you make the effort you’ll be glad by-and-by. You won’t lose so much ground, you see – won’t slip back quite so far in your education. And then, studying will be like working at a garden where things don’t grow easily. Every flower you raise will be a sort of triumph, and you will value it twice as much as a common flower which has cost no trouble.’
‘Well,’ said Katy, rather forlornly, ‘I’ll try. But it won’t be a bit nice studying without anybody to study with me. Is there anything else, Cousin Helen?’
Just then the door creaked, and Elsie timidly put her head into the room.
‘Oh, Elsie, run away!’ cried Katy. ‘Cousin Helen and I are talking. Don’t come just now.’
Katy didn’t speak unkindly, but Elsie’s face fell, and she looked disappointed. She said nothing, however, but shut the door and stole away.
Cousin Helen watched this little scene without speaking. For a few minutes after Elsie was gone she seemed to be thinking.
‘Katy,’ she said, at last, ‘you were saying just now that one of the things you were sorry about was that while you were ill you could be of no use to the children. Do you know, I don’t think you have that reason for being sorry.’
‘Why not?’ said Katy, astonished.
‘Because you can be of use. It seems to me that you have more of a chance with the children now than you ever could have had when you were well and flying about as you used. You might do almost anything you liked with them.’
‘I can’t think what you mean,’ said Katy, sadly. ‘Why, Cousin Helen, half the time I don’t even know where they are or what they are doing. And I can’t get up and go after them, you know.’
‘But you can make your room such a delightful place that they will want to come to you! Don’t you see, a sick person has one splendid chance – she is always on hand. Everybody who wants her knows just where to go. If people love her she gets naturally to be the heart of the house. Once make the little ones feel that your room is the place of all the others to come to when they are tired, or happy, or grieved, or sorry about anything, and that the Katy who lives there is sure to give them a loving reception – and the battle is won. For you know we never do people good by lecturing; only by living their lives with them, and helping a little here and a little there to make them better. And when one’s own life is laid aside for a while, as yours is now, that is the very time to take up other people’s lives, as we can’t do when we are scurrying and bustling over our own affairs. But I didn’t mean to preach a sermon. I’m afraid you’re tired.’
‘No, I’m not a bit,’ said Katy, holding Cousin Helen’s hand tight in hers; ‘you can’t think how much better I feel. Oh, Cousin Helen, I will try!’
‘It won’t be easy,’ replied her cousin. ‘There will be days when your head aches, and you feel cross and fretted, and don’t want to think of any one but yourself. And there’ll be other days when Clover and the rest will come in, as Elsie did just now, and you will be doing something else, and will feel as if their coming was a bother. But you must recollect that every time you forget and are impatient and selfish, you chill them and drive them farther away. They are loving little things, and are so sorry for you now that nothing you do makes them angry. But by-and-by they will get used to having you sick, and if you haven’t won them as friends they will grow away from you as they get older.’
Just then Dr Carr came in.
‘Oh, Papa! you haven’t come to take Cousin Helen, have you?’ cried Katy.
‘Indeed I have,’ said her father. ‘I think the big invalid and the little invalid have talked quite long enough. Cousin Helen looks tired.’
For a minute Katy felt just like crying. But she choked back the tears. ‘My first lesson in patience,’ she said to herself, and managed to give a faint, watery smile as Papa looked at her.
‘That’s right, dear,’ whispered Cousin Helen, as she bent forward to kiss her. ‘And one last word, Katy. In this school, to which you and I belong, there is one great comfort, and that is that the Teacher is always at hand. He never goes away. If things puzzle us, there He is close by, ready to explain and make all easy. Try to think of this, darling, and don’t be afraid to ask Him for help if the lesson seems too hard.’
Katy had a strange dream that night. She thought she was trying to study a lesson out of a book which wouldn’t come quite open. She could just see a little bit of what was inside, but it was in a language which she did not understand. She tried in vain: not a word could she read; and yet for all that it looked so interesting that she longed to go on.
‘Oh, if somebody would only help us!’ she cried, impatiently.
Suddenly a hand came over her shoulder and took hold of the book.
It opened at once, and showed the whole page. And then the forefinger of the hand began to point to line after line, and as it moved the words became plain, and Katy could read them easily. She looked up. There, stooping over her, was a great beautiful Face. The eyes met hers. The lips smiled.
‘Why didn’t you ask Me before, little scholar?’ said a voice.
‘Why, it is You, just as Cousin Helen told me!’ cried Katy.
She must have spoken in her sleep, for Aunt Izzie half woke up, and said:
‘What is it? Do you want anything?’
The dream broke, and Katy roused, to find herself in bed, with the first sunbeams struggling in at the window, and Aunt Izzie raised on her elbow looking at her with a sort of sleepy wonder.
10
St Nicholas and St Valentine
‘What are the children all doing today?’ said Katy, laying down Norway and the Norwegians, which she was reading for the fourth time; ‘I haven’t seen them since breakfast.’
Aunt Izzie, who was sewing on the other side of the room, looked up from her work.
‘I don’t know,’ she said; ‘they’re over at Cecy’s, or somewhere. They’ll be back before
long, I guess.’
Her voice sounded a little odd and mysterious, but Katy didn’t notice it.
‘I thought of such a nice plan yesterday,’ she went on. ‘That was, that all of them should hang their stockings up here tomorrow night instead of the nursery. Then I could see them open their presents, you know. Mayn’t they, Aunt Izzie? It would be real fun.’
‘I don’t believe there will be any objection,’ replied her aunt. She looked as if she were trying not to laugh. Katy wondered what was the matter with her.
It was more than two months now since Cousin Helen went away, and winter had fairly come. Snow was falling out-doors. Katy could see the thick flakes go whirling past the window, but the sight did not chill her. It only made the room look warmer and more cosy. It was a pleasant room now. There was a bright fire in the grate. Everything was neat and orderly, the air was sweet with mignonette, from a little glass of flowers which stood on the table, and the Katy who lay in bed was a very different-looking Katy from the forlorn girl of the last chapter.
Cousin Helen’s visit, though it lasted only one day, did great good. Not that Katy grew perfect all at once. None of us do that, even in books. But it is everything to be started in the right path. Katy’s feet were on it now; and though she often stumbled and slipped, and often sat down discouraged, she kept on pretty steadily, in spite of bad days, which made her say to herself that she was not getting forward at all.
These bad days, when everything seemed hard, and she herself was cross and fretful, and drove the children out of the room, cost Katy many bitter tears. But after them she would pick herself up, and try again, and harder. And I think that, in spite of drawbacks, the little scholar, on the whole, was learning her lesson pretty well.
Cousin Helen was a great comfort all this time. She never forgot Katy. Nearly every week some little thing came from her. Sometimes it was a pencil note written from her sofa. Sometimes it was an interesting book, or a new magazine, or some pretty little thing for the room. The crimson wrapper which Katy wore was one of her presents, so were the bright chromos of autumn leaves which hung on the walls, the little stand for the books – all sorts of things. Katy loved to look about her as she lay. All the room seemed full of Cousin Helen and her kindness.
‘I wish I had something pretty to put into everybody’s stocking,’ she went on, wistfully; ‘but I’ve only got the muffatees for Papa, and these reins for Phil.’ She took them from under her pillow as she spoke – gay worsted affairs, with bells sewed on here and there. She had knitted them herself, a very little bit at a time.
‘There’s my pink sash,’ she said, suddenly, ‘I might give that to Clover. I only wore it once, you know, and I don’t think I got any spots on it. Would you please fetch it and let me see, Aunt Izzie? It’s in the top drawer.’
Aunt Izzie brought the sash. It proved to be quite fresh, and they both decided that it would do nicely for Clover.
‘You know I shan’t want sashes for ever so long,’ said Katy, in a rather sad tone. ‘And this is a beauty.’
When she spoke next her voice was bright again.
‘I wish I had something real nice for Elsie. Do you know, Aunt Izzie – I think that Elsie is the dearest little girl that ever was.’
‘I’m glad you’ve found it out,’ said Aunt Izzie, who had always been specially fond of Elsie.
‘What she wants most of all is a writing-desk,’ continued Katy. ‘And Johnnie wants a sled. But, oh, dear! Those are such big things. And I’ve only got two dollars and a quarter.’
Aunt Izzie marched out of the room without saying anything. When she came back she had something folded up in her hand.
‘I didn’t know what to give you for Christmas, Katy,’ she said, ‘because Helen sends you such a lot of things that there don’t seem to be anything you haven’t already. So I thought I’d give you this and let you choose for yourself. But if you’ve set your heart on getting presents for the children perhaps you’d rather have it now.’ So saying, Aunt Izzie laid on the bed a crisp, new five-dollar bill!
‘How good you are!’ cried Katy, flushed with pleasure. And indeed Aunt Izzie did seem to have grown wonderfully good of late. Perhaps Katy had got hold of her smooth handle!
Being now in possession of seven dollars and a quarter, Katy could afford to be gorgeously generous. She gave Aunt Izzie an exact description of the desk she wanted.
‘It’s no matter about its being very big,’ said Katy; ‘but it must have a blue velvet lining, and an inkstand with a silver top. And please buy some little sheets of paper and envelopes and a pen-handle – the prettiest you can find. Oh! and there must be a lock and key. Don’t forget that, Aunt Izzie.
‘I’d like the sled to be green,’ went on Katy, ‘and to have a nice name. Sky-Scraper would be nice if there was one. Johnnie saw a sled once called Sky-Scraper, and she said it was splendid. And if there’s money enough left, Aunty, won’t you buy me a real nice book for Dorry, and another for Cecy, and a silver thimble for Mary? Her old one is full of holes. Oh! and some candy. And something for Debby and Bridget – some little thing, you know. I think that’s all!’
Was ever seven dollars and a quarter expected to do so much? Aunt Izzie must have been a witch indeed to make it hold out. But she did, and next day all the precious bundles came home. How Katy enjoyed untying the strings!
Everything was exactly right.
‘There wasn’t any Sky-Scraper,’ said Aunt Izzie, ‘so I got Snow-Skimmer instead.’
‘It’s beautiful, and I like it just as well,’ said Katy, contentedly.
‘Oh, hide them, hide them!’ she cried, with sudden terror; ‘somebody’s coming.’ But the somebody was only Papa, who put his head into the room as Aunt Izzie, laden with bundles, scuttled across the hall.
Katy was glad to catch him alone. She had a little private secret to talk over with him. It was about Aunt Izzie, for whom she, as yet, had no present.
‘I thought perhaps you’d get me a book like that one of Cousin Helen’s which Aunt Izzie liked so much,’ she said. ‘I don’t recollect the name exactly. It was something about a shadow. But I’ve spent all my money.’
‘Never mind about that,’ said Dr Carr. ‘We’ll make that right. The Shadow of the Cross – was that it? I’ll buy it this afternoon.’
‘Oh, thank you, Papa! And please get a brown cover, if you can, because Cousin Helen’s was brown. And you won’t let Aunt Izzie know, will you? Be careful, Papa!’
‘I’ll swallow the book first, brown cover and all,’ said Papa, making a funny face. He was pleased to see Katy so interested about anything again.
These delightful secrets took up so much of her thoughts that Katy scarcely found time to wonder at the absence of the children, who generally haunted her room, but who for three days back had hardly been seen. However, after supper they all came up in a body, looking very merry, and as if they had been having a good time somewhere.
‘You don’t know what we’ve been doing,’ began Philly.
‘Hush, Phil!’ said Clover, in a warning voice. Then she divided the stockings which she held in her hand. And everybody proceeded to hang them up.
Dorry hung his on one side of the fireplace, and John hers exactly opposite. Clover and Phil suspended theirs side by side, on two handles of the bureau.
‘I’m going to put mine here, close to Katy, so that she can see it the first thing in the morning,’ said Elsie, pinning hers to the bed-post.
Then they all sat down round the fire to write their wishes on bits of paper, and see whether they would burn, or fly up the chimney. If they did the latter, it was a sign that Santa Claus had them safe, and would bring the things wished for.
John wished for a sled and a doll’s tea-set, and the continuation of the Swiss Family Robinson. Dorry’s list ran thus:
A plum cake,
A new Bibel,
Harry and Lucy,
A kellidescope,
Everything else Santa Claus likes.
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br /> When they had written these lists they threw them into the fire. The fire gave a flicker just then, and the papers vanished. Nobody saw exactly how. John thought they flew up the chimney, but Dorry said they didn’t.
Phil dropped his piece in very solemnly. It flamed for a minute, then sank into ashes.
‘There, you won’t get it, whatever it was!’ said Dorry. ‘What did you write, Phil?’
‘Nofing,’ said Phil, ‘only just Philly Carr.’
The children shouted.
‘I wrote “a writing-desk” on mine,’ remarked Elsie, sorrowfully, ‘but it all burned up.’
Katy chuckled when she heard this.
And now Clover produced her list. She read aloud:
‘Strive and Thrive,
A pair of kid gloves,
A muff,
A good temper!’
Then she dropped it into the fire. Behold, it flew straight up the chimney.
‘How queer!’ said Katy; ‘none of the rest of them did that.’
The truth was, that Clover, who was a canny little mortal, had slipped across the room and opened the door just before putting her wishes in. This, of course, made a draught, and sent the paper right upward.
Pretty soon Aunt Izzie came in and swept them all off to bed.
‘I know how it will be in the morning,’ she said, ‘you’ll all be up and racing about as soon as it is light. So you must get your sleep now, if ever.’
After they had gone, Katy recollected that nobody had offered to hang a stocking up for her. She felt a little hurt when she thought of it. ‘But I suppose they forgot,’ she said to herself.
A little later Papa and Aunt Izzie came in, and they filled the stockings. It was great fun. Each was brought to Katy as she lay in bed, that she might arrange it as she liked.
The toes were stuffed with candy and oranges. Then came the parcels, all shapes and sizes, tied in white paper with ribbons, and labelled.
‘What’s that?’ asked Dr Carr, as Aunt Izzie rammed a long, narrow package into Clover’s stocking.
What Katy Did (Puffin Classics Relaunch) Page 11