CHAPTER V
TANIA, A PROBLEM
“Don’t you think it would be a splendid plan for Tania?” asked Madge eagerly. “Miss Jenny Ann and the girls are willing she should come to us. Tania is such a fascinating little person, with her dreams and her pretences, that she is the best kind of company. Besides, I am awfully sorry for her.”
Mrs. Curtis and Madge were seated in the latter’s bedroom indulging in one of their old-time confidential talks.
“Tania would be a great deal of care for you, Madge,” argued Mrs. Curtis. “She is worrying my maids almost distracted with her foolishness. Last night she wrapped herself in a sheet and frightened poor Norah almost to death by dancing in the moonlight. She explained to Norah that she was pretending that she was a moonflower swaying in the wind. I wonder where the child got such odd fancies and bits of information? She has never seen a moonflower in her life.” Mrs. Curtis laughed and frowned at the same time. “Poor little daughter of the tenements! She is indeed a problem.”
“Shall I tell you all I have been able to find out about Tania?” asked Madge. “Her history is quite like a story-book tale. I think her father and mother were actors, but the father died when Tania was only a little baby. That is why, I suppose, they called the child by such an absurd name as ‘Titania.’ I looked it up and it comes from Shakespeare’s play of ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream.’ I think perhaps her mother was just a dancer, or had only a small part in the plays in which she appeared, for they never had any money. Tania has lived in a tenement always. The mother used to take care of her baby when she could, and then leave her to the neighbors. But the mother must have been unusual, too, for she taught Tania all sorts of poetry and music when Tania was only a tiny child. Indeed, Tania knows a great deal more about literature than I do now,” confessed Madge honestly. “It isn’t so strange, after all, that Tania pretends. Why, she and her mother used to play at pretending together. When they sat down to their dinner they used to rub their old lamp and play that it was Aladdin’s wonderful lamp, and that their poor table was spread with a wonderful feast, instead of just bread and cheese. They tried to make light of their poverty.”
Mrs. Curtis’s eyes were full of tears. She could understand better than Madge the scene the young girl pictured.
“Tania was eight years old when her mother died,” finished Madge pensively. “Since then poor Tania has had such a dreadful time, living with that wretched old Sal, who has made a regular slavey of her, and she just had to go on with her pretending in order to be able to bear her life at all.”
Madge and Mrs. Curtis were both silent for a moment. The bright June sunshine flooded the room, offering a sharp contrast to Tania’s sad little story.
“You see why I wish to take her on the houseboat,” pleaded Madge. “It seems so wonderful that we are going to Cape May and will be on the really seashore, near you and Tom, that each one of us feels the desire to do something for somebody just to show how happy we are. Miss Jenny Ann says we may take Tania, if you think it wouldn’t be unwise.”