VINNIE MAKES A BEGINNING.
Vinnie learned only too soon why Jack had dreaded so much to have her enter the Betterson household; and, in a momentary depression of spirits, she asked herself whether, if she had known all she was undertaking, she would not have shrunk from it.
The sight of the sick ones, the mother enfeebled in mind as well as in body, Lord Betterson pompous and complacent in the midst of so much misery, little Lill alone making headway against a deluge of disorder,—all this filled her with distress and dismay.
She could think of no relief but in action.
"I shall stifle," thought she, "unless I go to work at once, setting things to rights."
And the thought of helping others cheered herself.
She needed something from her trunk. That was at the door, just where Jack had left it. She went out, and found that Chokie had changed his mind with regard to digging a well, and was building a pyramid, using the door-yard sand for his material, a shingle for a shovel, and the trunk for a foundation.
"Why, Chokie!" she said; "what are you doing?"
"I makin' a Fourth-of-Duly," replied Chokie, flourishing his shingle. "After I dit it about twice as bid as the house, I doin' to put some powder in it, and tout'th it off."
"O dear!" said Vinnie; "I'm afraid you'll blow my trunk to pieces; and I must have my trunk now!"
"I doin' to blow it to pieces, and you tan't have it," cried Chokie, stoutly.
"But I've something for you in it," said Vinnie, "and we never can get it for you, if you touch off your Fourth-of-July on it."
"O, wal, you may dit it." And he began to shovel the sand off, throwing it into his clothing, into the house, and some into Vinnie's eyes.
Lord Betterson, who was walking leisurely about his castle, now came forward, and, seeing Vinnie in some distress, inquired, in his lofty way, if he could do anything for her.
"If you please," she replied, laughing, as she brushed the sand away from her eyes, "I should like to have this trunk carried in."
Betterson drew himself up with dignified surprise; for he had not meant to proffer any such menial service. Vinnie perceived the little mistake she had made; but she was not so overpoweringly impressed by his nobility as to think that an apology was due. She even permitted herself to be amused; and, retiring behind the sand in her eyes, which she made a great show of winking and laughing away, she waited to see what he would do.
He looked around, and coughed uncomfortably.
"Where are the boys?" he asked. "This—hem—is very awkward. I don't know why the trunk was left here; I directed that it should be taken to Cecie's room."—
Vinnie mischievously resolved that the noble Betterson back should bend beneath that burden.
"It is quite light," she said. "If you want help, I can lift one end of it."
The implication that it was not greatness of character, but weakness of body, which kept him above such service, touched my lord. As she, at the same time, actually laid hold of one handle, he waived her off, with ostentatious gallantry.
"Permit me!" And, with a smile of condescension, which seemed to say, "The Bettersons are not used to this sort of thing; but they can always be polite to the ladies," he took up the trunk by both handles, and went politely backward with it into the house, a performance at which Jack would have smiled. I say performance advisedly, for Betterson showed by his bearing, lofty and magnificent even under the burden, that this was not an ordinary act of an ordinary man.
Having set down the trunk in its place, he brushed his fingers with a soiled handkerchief, and retired, exceedingly flushed and puffy in his tight stock.
Vinnie thanked him with charming simplicity; while Cecie, on her lounge, laughed slyly, and Mrs. Betterson looked amazed.
"Why, Lavinia! how did you ever dare?"
"Dare what?"
"To ask Mr. Betterson to carry your trunk?"
