CHAPTER XV
CHANGES IN PROSPECT
I could not tell you one-half of the pleasant things that happened in the course of the next month to Rob and Nelly. They had such good times that they hardly ever thought of their disappointment about the mine. And even Mr. and Mrs. March thought less and less about it every day, they were so much interested in talking with Mr. and Mrs. Cook. Mr. March and Mr. Cook became good friends very soon. Mr. Cook would often work all day long in the fields with Mr. March. He said it made him feel as if he were a boy again, on his father's farm. The days that Rob and Nelly went to Rosita were very long days to Arthur. He was so lonely that Mrs. Cook proposed to her husband one day that they should let Thomas, the driver, take the children up town in the carriage, and bring them right back again.
"They need not be gone more than two hours in all," she said. "It is that tiresome walk that takes so long."
But Mr. Cook was too wise to do this.
"That would not be any true kindness to the children," he said. "It is much better that they should keep on with the regular routine of their life, just as they did before. If they were to have the carriage to take them up to town for a month, it would only make the walk seem very long and hard to them after we are gone. We will give them all the pleasure we can, without altering their way of living."
"The mere fact of our being here alters their whole life," said Mrs. Cook. "They have now constant companionship, and a variety of amusements and interests, in Arthur's toys and books, which are all new to them. Before we came, they had solitude, absolutely no amusements, and no occupation except hard work. Nelly told me the other day that she had read every book in their house, twice over."
"There are not very many books," said Mr. Cook: "I don't know how March comes to have so few."
"Oh, they had to sell ever so many last summer: Mrs. March told me so," replied Mrs. Cook.
"By Jove! did they?" exclaimed Mr. Cook. "That was too bad. I wonder if March would take it amiss if I sent him out a box of books this autumn."
"I don't know," Mrs. Cook said thoughtfully. "They haven't a particle of false pride, about their work, or selling things, or any thing of that kind; but I doubt their liking presents. They are very independent."
The weeks slipped by as if they weren't more than three days long. Rob and Nelly got up before daylight every morning, so as to hurry through their work and go down to the tents,—down to "Arthur's," they always called it, as if it were a house. Sometimes they stayed all day, till it was time for Rob to go for the cows. They read, or they played dominoes or chequers or backgammon; or they put dissected maps together; or they looked at all sorts of things under the microscope; or they painted flowers: this was the nicest thing of all. Mrs. Cook drew and painted beautifully. She had taught Arthur, so that he could paint a little simple flower really very well; and he had a beautiful paint-box, full of real good paints, such as artists use,—not such as are put in toy-boxes for children. This was the thing Nelly enjoyed best. Then Ralph, the cook, used to go off gunning every day, and he brought home beautiful birds, and Arthur and Rob used to nail the wings on boards to dry. Arthur had a little table that fitted across his chair, and on this table he could pound pretty hard; and he made a good many pretty things out of wood. It seemed to Rob that there wasn't any thing in the whole world which Flora could not bring out of the two big black boxes which stood in her tent, and held Arthur's things. As for books, he had fifty: every one of Mayne Reid's. When Rob saw those he was delighted.
"Oh, Arthur! Arthur! ain't they splendid! I've had 'The Cliff Climbers.'"
"I don't think so," said Arthur. "They're all about hunting and fighting, and such things."
"Oh, my!" said Rob, "don't you like that? That's just what I like. I'll read some of 'em to you. I bet you'd like them." And when Rob read them to him, Arthur really did like them.
He could not help sharing Rob's enthusiasm; but when Rob exclaimed:—"Oh, Arthur, don't you wish you could go to the Himalayas?" poor Arthur only shuddered, and said:—
"No, indeed! it shakes you so awfully to go in the cars."
Rob did not ask him again; but he told Nelly at night what Arthur had said, and he added:—
"Say, Nell, if I should ever get to be like Arthur, I'd take poison."
"Why, Rob!" cried Nelly, "that's awfully wicked! You wouldn't ever dare to!" And Nelly turned pale with fright.
"I expect it is," said Rob; "but I reckon I'd do it! Why, Nell, I'd just have to!"
Mrs. Cook sat with the children hours at a time, and listened to their talk and play. She and her husband took a drive or a ride every afternoon; but the rest of the time she did not leave Arthur. The more she saw the influence of Rob and Nelly upon him, the more grateful she felt for the strange chance which had brought them together. Arthur was really growing better. He had more color, more appetite, and very seldom complained of pain. He had something to think of beside himself; and he was happy,—the two best medicines in all the world: they will cure more diseases than people dream.
One day, Flora said to Mrs. Cook:—
"I suppose, ma'am, ye'll be going soon. There was quite a frost in the north o' the valley last night, Thomas was telling me. They say there'll be snow here before long."
"Yes, Flora, I suppose we will have to go very soon: week after next, Mr. Cook thinks," replied Mrs. Cook.
Arthur was lying back in his chair, with his eyes shut. They thought he was asleep; but at the sound of these words he opened his eyes, and cried out:—
"I won't go away, mamma! I won't go! You can't make me. I'm not going away ever. I'm going to stay here."
"Why, Arthur dear!" said his mother, "you wouldn't like to stay here without papa and without me; and you know papa must go home."
"Yes, I would!" cried Arthur: "I've been thinking about it for ever so long. Flora can stay: she can dress and undress me; and I can live in Mrs. March's house, and sleep in Rob's bed. I asked Nelly, and she said I could. Rob can sleep on the lounge. I shan't go home. I hate New York; and if you take me back there I'll get sicker and sicker, and die; and I don't care if I do, if I can't stay here!"
Mrs. Cook was grieved and shocked. She had often thought to herself that there was danger that Rob and Nelly would be discontented and lonely when Arthur went away; but strangely enough she had never thought of any such danger for Arthur. She had often wished she could take Nelly home with her to live; but she had dismissed it from her mind as an impossible thing. Now she began to think of it again. She sat a long time in silence, turning it over and over.
"Why don't you speak, mamma?" asked Arthur: "are you angry with me?"
"No, dear," replied Mrs. Cook: "I am not angry: only very, very sorry; and I am trying to think what we can do to make you happy when we go away. I shall be very sorry if all our pleasant time here only makes you unhappier after you go home. You were very contented before we came here."
"I don't think I was very, mamma," said Arthur, sadly. "I always wanted a boy or a girl; and none of the boys and girls in New York cared any thing about me,—only my things; but Nelly is just like my own sister,—at least I guess that's the way sisters are,—and Rob is just like my brother. Mamma, I can't go away! I don't see why you can't leave me. You and papa would come back in the spring. Oh, mamma, let me! let me!" And poor Arthur began to cry.
Mrs. Cook put her arms around him, and laid her face down close to his.
"My darling child!" she said, "haven't papa and I done every thing we possibly could to make you happy always?"
"Yes," sobbed Arthur; "and that's why I think you might leave me here."
"Dear boy, you don't seem to think," said his mother, "how lonely papa and I would be without you."
"Oh, mamma, would you, really? How could you be? I'm only a bother: I can't go round with you or any thing. I think you'd have a great deal better time without me. Perhaps I'd get so I could walk if I stayed here all winter. You know one doctor said I ought to stay a whole year."
"Arthur, dear," said Mrs. Cook, earnestly, "do not talk any more about this now. Promise mamma that you will try not to think about it either; and I promise you I will talk to papa and see what he thinks can be done. All we want in this world is to make you happy, and do what is best for you."
"Will you ask him to let me stay?" cried Arthur.
"I will tell him how you feel about being separated from Nelly and Rob," replied his mother; "and I think we can arrange in some way."
Mrs. Cook had already made up her mind what she would do. She would ask Mrs. March to let Nelly go back with them to New York for the winter. She knew that Mr. Cook would be willing; and she believed that Mrs. March might be persuaded to consent, on account of the advantage it would be to Nelly. But she would not mention this plan to Arthur now, because he would only be all the more disappointed if it failed. Arthur leaned his head back in his chair, and shut his eyes again.
"Oh, dear!" he said, "crying does always make my head ache so!"
"Yes, dear," said his mother, "that is reason enough, if there were no other, why you should try hard to behave like a man always, and never let any little thing upset you enough to make you cry."
"I know it," said Arthur, forlornly; "but you cry before you think you're going to; and then you can't stop."
As soon as Mrs. Cook was alone with her husband, she told him what Arthur had said.
"I am not at all surprised," he replied: "I have been expecting it."
"Of course it would never do to leave the child here," said Mrs. Cook.
"Of course not," said Mr. Cook. "But I'll tell you what we might do: take Rob and Nelly home with us for the winter. I think their father and mother would let them go."
"Rob too?" said Mrs. Cook.
"Rob too!" echoed Mr. Cook. "Why, if I could have but one Rob would be the one; but if we take one we've got to take both: you might as well propose to separate the Siamese twins."
"I was thinking of proposing to take Nelly," said Mrs. Cook. "I don't see how Mrs. March could spare them both."
"She could easier let them both go than have one left behind to pine. I don't know but it would kill them to be apart from each other. I don't see, though, how you can prefer Nelly to Rob?"
"And I don't see how you can prefer Rob to Nelly," answered Mrs. Cook: "as a companion for Arthur, Nelly is twice as good as Rob."
"Does Arthur like her better?" asked Mr. Cook.
"Yes, I think he does," replied Mrs. Cook: "he seems to lean on her. He is very fond of Rob, too. He said to-day that they were just like his sister and brother."
"Let us go down to-night and ask Mr. and Mrs. March about it," said Mr. Cook. "The sooner it is settled the better. If Arthur has got this crotchet in his head about staying, he won't be easy a minute."
After tea, Mr. and Mrs. Cook walked down to the house, and proposed the plan. At first, Mr. March said no, most decidedly. But Mrs. March begged him to consider the thing, and not decide too hastily.
"Think what a splendid thing it would be for the children," she said.
"But think what a desolate winter you would have here without them," said Mr. March.
"Oh, no, not desolate!" said Mrs. March: "not desolate with you here. Nelly would write every week. The winter would soon pass away. And, Robert, they may never have another such opportunity in their lives. I think it would be wrong for us to refuse it for them."
"Why not consult them?" said Mr. Cook.
"I know beforehand what they would say," answered Mr. March. "Nelly would say stay here, and Rob would say go. No: we must decide the question ourselves; and Mrs. March is right: we ought not to decide too hastily. We will let you know in the morning."
"You understand, I hope," said Mrs. Cook, "that it is a very great favor, for the sake of our helpless boy, that we ask it. It is really asking you to give up your two children for a time, just to make our one happy."
"I understand that," replied Mr. March; "but you must know that it is also a very great obligation under which we lay ourselves to you. I feel it to be such, and I confess I shrink from it: I can never repay it."
"Nonsense!" said Mr. Cook. "The obligation is all on our side; and if you had ever had a poor helpless child like Arthur, you could realize it. Why, March, I'd give all my fortune this moment, and begin at the bottom and make it all over again, if I could see Arthur well and strong as your Rob." And the tears filled Mr. Cook's eyes, as he shook hands with Mrs. March, and bade her good-night.
Mr. and Mrs. March talked nearly all night before they could come to a decision about this matter. It was a terrible thing to them to look forward to a whole winter without the children. But Mrs. March continually said:—
"Robert, suppose we never have another chance to give either of them such an opportunity of pleasure and improvement as this. How shall we feel when we look back? We should never forgive ourselves."
So it was decided that the children should go.
In the morning Mrs. March said to Nelly:—
"You'll miss Arthur when he goes: won't you?"
Nelly hesitated, and finally said:—
"Arthur says he won't go!"
"Won't go!" exclaimed Mrs. March: "what does he mean?"
"He is going to ask his father to ask you to let him stay here with us," replied Nelly. "I thought he might sleep in Rob's bed. Rob says he'd just as soon sleep on the lounge; and I thought you'd be willing. He's such a poor dear! I could take all the care of him."
"Would you really like to have him?" said Mrs. March.
"Oh, yes, indeed, mamma, ever so much! I love him as well as I do Rob,—almost: not quite, I guess, because he isn't my own brother; but it is so hard for him to be sick, that makes me love him more."
"Mr. and Mrs. Cook came down here last night to ask us to let you and Rob go back to New York with them for the winter," said Mrs. March, very quietly, watching Nelly's face as she spoke.
It turned scarlet in one second, and the voice was almost a shriek in which Nelly cried out:—
"Oh, mamma! how perfectly splendid! Can we go?"
Then in the very next second she said:—
"But you couldn't spare us: could you? You couldn't stay here all alone." And her face fell.
"Yes, I think we could spare you; and we have said you might go," said Mrs. March, smiling.
Nelly's arms were round her mother's neck in one moment, and she was kissing her and half laughing and half crying.
"Oh, mamma! mamma!" she said, "I can't tell whether I am glad or sorry. I don't want to go away from you; but oh! if you only could hear Arthur tell of all the beautiful things in New York! Oh! I don't know whether I am sorry or glad!"
But Mrs. March knew very well that she was glad, and this made it much easier for her to bear the thought of the separation.
If Nelly, the quiet Nelly, were as glad and excited as this, how do you suppose the adventurous Rob felt, when he heard the news? The house wouldn't hold him. He had to run out and turn summersaults on the grass. Then he raced off down to the tents, and told Flora and Ralph and Thomas. It was early in the morning, and Arthur was not up. All the servants were glad. They all liked Rob and Nelly, and they all saw how much better Arthur had grown since he had had children to play with.
"Ah, Master Rob," said Thomas, "just wait till I drive ye out in the Park; that's a place worth looking at,—all beautiful green grass, and lakes, and roads as smooth and hard as a beach, and groves of trees,—not like this bare wilderness, I can tell ye."
"Are there mountains there, Thomas?" asked Rob.
"Mountains! no! The Lord be praised: never a mountain!" exclaimed Ralph; "and if ever I'm thankful for anything, it is to get out of sight of the ugly sides of 'em!"
"Oh, Ralph!" was all Rob could say at hearing such an opinion of mountains.
When Flora and Thomas brought Arthur out of the tent, Rob ran towards them.
"Oh, Arthur—" he began.
"I know all about it," said Arthur: "Nelly and you are going home with us. I'd rather stay here, but they won't let me; and having you go home with us is next best."
Rob thought this was rather an ungracious way for Arthur to speak, and so it was.
"You wouldn't like it here in the winter half so well as you do now, Arthur," he said. "It's awfully cold sometimes; and real deep snow. You'd be shut up in the house lots."
"So I am at home," said Arthur: "weeks and weeks."
"But your house is nicer to be shut up in than ours," continued Rob.
"I don't care," said Arthur: "I wanted to stay. But I'm real glad you and Nelly are going. Can Nelly skate? We'll go and see her skate in the Park."
"No, she can't! but I can," said Rob. "Is there good skating there?"
"Oh, goodness, Rob!" exclaimed Arthur, "didn't you know about the skating in Central Park? Well, you'll see! We drive up there every pleasant day. I'm sick of it. But the skating's some fun: I wish I could skate."
"Perhaps you'll get strong enough to, pretty soon," said Rob, sympathizingly.
"If they'd let me stay here I might," said Arthur, fretfully; "but they won't."
The nights grew cool so fast that Mr. and Mrs. Cook began to be impatient to set out for home. At first, Mr. and Mrs. March pleaded with them to stay longer; but one morning Mrs. March said suddenly to her husband:—
"Robert, I've changed my mind about the children's going: I think the sooner they go the better. It is just like having a day set for having a tooth pulled: you suffer all the pain ten times over in anticipating it. I can't think about anything else from morning till night. Oh, I do hope we haven't done wrong!"
"It isn't too late yet to keep them at home," said Mr. March. "Don't let us do it if your mind is not clear. I don't think Nelly more than half wants to go now."
"Oh, yes, she does!" replied Mrs. March. "She is so excited in the prospect that she talks in her sleep about it. I heard her, last night."
"The dear child!" said Mr. March. "It was Nelly that they really wanted most."
"Not at all," said Mrs. March, quickly: "Mr. Cook told me that he would have only asked for Rob, but he knew the children could not be separated."
"Well, that's odd," said Mr. March. "Mrs. Cook told me that she had been long thinking that she wished she could have Nelly, but she knew it would be out of the question to separate the children."
Mrs. March laughed.
"I see," she said: "they disagree about the children, just as you and I do. Mrs. Cook likes Nelly best, and Mr. Cook likes Rob."
"Why, Sarah!" exclaimed Mr. March, "what do you mean? We love the children just alike."
"Yes, perhaps we love them equally," replied Mrs. March; "but we don't like them equally. I like Rob's ways best, and you like Nelly's. It's always been so, ever since they were born. You'll see Nelly will make a good, loving, lovable woman; but Rob will make a splendid man. Rob will do something in the world: you see if he does not!"
Mr. March smiled.
"I hope he will," he said. "But as for my little Nelly, I wouldn't ask any thing more for her than to be, as you say, 'a good, loving, lovable woman.'"