Christie Redfern's Troubles

by Margaret M. Robertson

There were but two rooms and a closet or two on the ground-floor. Above, there might be another made—perhaps two; but that part of the house was quite unfinished, showing the daylight through the chinks between the logs. Floor there was none.

“It could never be made comfortable, I am afraid,” she said, as she made her way down the creaking ladder. “I could never think of bringing the bairns here.” And it was with a heavy heart that she took her way home.

But her courage rose again. Before many days had passed she had decided to try what could be done with the place. The house, such as it was, with a little square of garden-ground, could be got for a rent merely nominal. It was near her school. She could live at home, and the little ones could go to school with her. Thus they could be kept together, and their education not be neglected. With what she and her sisters could earn they could live comfortably for some years in this quiet place. She could not fulfil her promise to her father to keep the little ones together, elsewhere; for she must not give up her school. Her salary was not large, but it was sure; and here they would be under her own eye. The price of the farm had been well invested in her aunt’s name, though Aunt Elsie herself was not yet aware of the fact. Effie was not sure whether she would remain with them or return home. But whatever she did, her income must be quite at her own disposal. The sisters must work for themselves and the little ones. If their aunt stayed with them, well; but they must henceforth depend on their own exertions.

When Effie had once decided that the little log-house on the cross-road was thenceforward to be their home, her naturally happy temper, and her earnest desire to make the best of all things for the sake of the others, made it easy for her to look for hopeful signs for the future, and to make light of difficulties which she could not fail to see. Under her direction, and by her assistance, the little log-house underwent an entire transformation before six weeks were over. Nothing was done by other hands which her own or Sarah’s and Annie’s could do. The carpenters laid new floors and mended broken windows; the plasterers filled the chinks and covered the walls of what was to be their chamber; but the girls themselves scrubbed and whitewashed, papered and painted, cleaned away rubbish from without and from within, and settled their various affairs with an energy and good-will which left them neither time nor inclination for repining. In a little while it would have been impossible to recognise in the bright and cheerful little cottage the dismal place in which, at her first visit, Effie had shed some very bitter tears.

Aunt Elsie did not leave them. She quite resented the idea of such a thing being possible. She had little faith in the likelihood of the children being kept together and clothed and fed by the unassisted efforts of the sisters, and assumed the direction of affairs in the new home, as she had always done in the old. Effie’s words with regard to her proved true. She was far easier to do with when she found herself in a position to give rather than to receive assistance. Her income was not large. Indeed, it was so small that those who have never been driven to bitter straits might smile at her idea of a competence. It would have barely kept her from want, in any circumstances; but joined to Effie’s earnings it gave promise of many comforts in their humble home. So ample did their means seem to them at first, that they would fain have persuaded each other that there need be no separation—that all might linger under the shelter of the lowly roof. But it could not be. Annie and Sarah both refused to eat bread of their sister’s winning, when there was not work enough to occupy them at home; and before they had been settled many weeks, they began to think of looking for situations elsewhere.

At first they both proposed to leave; but this Effie could not be prevailed upon to consider right. Helpless as Aunt Elsie was and seemed likely to continue, there was far more to do in their little household, limited as their means were, than it was possible for Christie to do well. The winter was coming, already the mornings were growing short. She herself could do little at home without neglecting her school; and her school must not be neglected. And besides, though Effie did not say much about it, she felt that almost any other discipline would be better for her nervous, excitable sister, than that she would be likely to experience with none to stand between her and the peculiar rigour of Aunt Elsie’s system of training. So she would not hear of both Annie and Sarah leaving them. Indeed, she constantly entreated, whenever the matter was discussed, that neither of them should go till winter was over. There was no fear but that the way would be opened before them. In the meantime, they might wait patiently at home.

And the way was opened far sooner than they had hoped or than Effie desired. A lady who had been passing the summer in the neighbourhood had been requested by a friend in town to secure for her the services of a young woman as nurse. Good health and a cheerful temper, with respectability of character, were all that was required. Then Annie and Sarah began seriously to discuss which of them should go and which should stay at home. Strange to say, Aunt Elsie was the only one of them all who shrank from the idea of the girls “going to service” or “taking a place.” It was a very hard thing for her brother’s daughters, she said, who had been brought up with expectations and prospects so different. She would far rather that Sarah who was skilful with the needle, and had a decided taste for millinery and dressmaking, should have offered herself to the dressmaker of the neighbouring village, or even have gone to the city to look for such a situation there. But this plan was too indefinite to suit the girls. Besides, there was no prospect of present remuneration should it succeed. So the situation of nurse was applied for and obtained by Annie. Sarah’s needle could be kept busy at home, and perhaps she could earn a little besides by making caps and bonnets for their neighbours. While they awaited the lady’s final answer, the preparations for Annie’s departure went busily on.

The answer came, and with it a request that another nurse might be engaged. A smaller girl would do. She would be expected to amuse, and perhaps teach reading to two little girls. If such a one could be found, permission was given to Annie to delay her departure from home for a week, till they should come together.

There was a dead silence when the letter was read. Annie and Sarah looked at each other, and then at Effie. Christie, through all the reading, had never taken her eyes from her elder sister’s face. But Effie looked at no one. The same thought had come into the minds of all; and Effie feared to have the thought put into words. But Aunt Elsie had no such fear, it seemed; for after examining the letter, she said, in a voice that did not betray very much interest in the subject:

“How would you like to go, Christie?” Christie said nothing, but still looked at Effie.