No wonder they pull the nice spread over them, and sink down again upon the soft pillows, feeling that there could be no greater luxury on earth. "But it must not make them idle," Mrs. Bates says, and so Nannie jumps up and dresses the baby, while her mother prepares the breakfast.
Was there ever stove like that! There's a pleasant smell to the polish as it burns off, and the wood has such a crackling, cheery sound; and the hot steam from the Indian cakes sends forth an inviting odor as the brown sides are turned upward.
Never mind if it is midsummer! the windows are open, and the superfluous heat escapes, and the fresh air mingles with and tempers the warmth of the room, so that it is nice and comfortable; it is so much better and more wholesome than the damp, dark basement. There is a slight tinge upon baby's cheek already, and Nannie doesn't look quite so pale and sickly as she stands before the little mirror to brush her hair. "Oh! an attic's the place, mother! isn't it?" says she, as she danced about the room with Winnie. "We can breathe better up here, and Winnie'll grow stout and healthy, for the sun comes in here," and she smoothed her tiny palm over a bright beam that lay upon the child's head, and kissed it as if it were a living, grateful presence. Winnie, too, crowed, and jumped, and twisted her wee fingers in the warm rays, and seemed quite conscious that something great and good had happened to her. The mother participated in the joy, but as they sat down to a comfortable breakfast, and she missed the red features that had so long been opposite, her knife and fork dropped from her hands, and the food was salted with bitter tears.
"Mother," said Nannie, putting down her untasted cake, "ye'll be breaking your heart for the dead father, and then what'll Winnie and me do? I'll not eat a morsel till ye dry your tears and help me!" and she folded her hands and sat gazing upon her mother, with the drops in her own eyes, until she saw her make an effort to eat. It was a quiet meal, though, and soon over, and the child was left to tidy the house, while the mother went forth to sell her wares. She did not mind so much being repulsed now, for even if she failed to profit by her day's labor, there was a willing friend to fall back upon, so that there was no fear of starving; so, with a light step, she trudged along, and the people wondered what had come over the poor huckster woman.
There was such a winning, cheerful sound in her voice as she tapped at the window and said, "Any thing to-day, ma'am?" they could not let her go without purchasing something—a piece of tape, or a few pins, or a bunch of matches. It did not matter if they were at breakfast, father could wait a minute for his coffee, and mother would write an excuse for the children to take to school, so they open the window, and make their bargains, and hand out the pennies, and the happy woman goes tripping along, lighter both in basket and heart, and the breakfast has an uncommon relish, so all think as they gather around the table again. Charity is a capital seasoner.
CHAPTER VII.
Mr. Bond sits beside his center-table with his legs crossed and his eyes fixed upon the portrait. He wonders what Betty Lathrop would advise him to do about the poor girl if she could speak. He hears a great deal about spiritual manifestations and communications, but he has no faith in them, and even if he had he wouldn't be guilty of disturbing a departed soul unless for something of great moment.
He thinks he reads her approbation of his conduct, thus far, in the mild eyes that seem to look encouragingly upon him. Good old man, it would puzzle the saints to find fault with any of thy pure impulses!
He wonders if Nannie ever went to school, and if she has read the Pilgrim's Progress? He'll take it round there some day, her education mustn't be neglected, and she can't be spared from Winnie to go to school now. He hasn't any body to care for, and why shouldn't he make those children his especial charge! Puss rises slowly from the rug, where she has been lying curled up this long time, shakes herself, and puts her two fore paws on Mr. Bond's knees, as if to remind him that he has something to care for and cherish, and then walks back again and puts herself in the old position, while her great orbs are rolled up at the master.