Aunt Kitty's Tales

by Maria J. McIntosh

"Only since yesterday evening," I replied, "and I have so much yet to attend to before I shall feel quite at home, that now, as you are able to come back to Alice, I must, I think, leave her till to-morrow; but you are too much fatigued to be left alone with her. I know a very good girl, who will not only help you to do your work, but who is so kind that she will take care of Alice, and so cheerful and pleasant, that she will amuse her when you cannot be with her. I will stop at her house on my way home, and send her to you."

The poor woman did not speak directly, but after a little while she said, "I think, ma'am, I ought not to let the girl you speak of come, for I am not so well able to pay for help as I once was."

"I will settle all that with her," said I, "and I will find some way to make your little girl here pay me for it, when she gets well. And now, Alice, you will I know remember your promise to me, and not even ask your mother to take the handkerchief off your eyes till she darkens the room this evening. Perhaps, my dear child, you may have to be in the dark for many days, but we will do every thing we can to help you to bear it patiently. Harriet will spend part of every day with you, and she can read for you till you are able to read for yourself again."

"Oh, thank you, ma'am, I do not think I shall mind the darkness at all, now, if my mother stays with me, and you will let Harriet come very often to see me."

"Well, my child, we will both come to-morrow, and now we will bid you good-by, and I think you had better be still and try to sleep, for while you are so weak, it is not right for you to talk long without resting."

Harriet and I then left the room, followed by Mrs. Scott, who told Alice she was going to the door with us, and would soon be back. She opened the door for us, and when we had gone out, she stepped out too, and taking my hand, thanked me again and again for the comfort I had given her poor blind girl, as she called Alice, when she was too much stunned, she said, to know what to do. I told her I thought it was very important that Alice should not know her misfortune till she was stronger, for fear she should grieve so much as to make her ill again; and that now, till the doctor should think it right to tell her of it, I hoped Alice would suppose that the bandage, or the darkness of the room, kept her from seeing. "But," I asked Mrs. Scott, "does not the doctor think something may be done to restore her sight?"

"Nothing that I can do, ma'am," said the poor woman, beginning to weep, "and that's the worst part, and the hardest to bear;—though I try to remember that my Father in heaven sends that too. The doctor says that in the city there are eye-doctors,—he calls them oculists,—who know a great deal which he does not, and that they might do her some good. But, ah, ma'am! how am I to go to the city with her, even if they would attend her for nothing after we got there, when I owe more money than I fear I can pay for a long while, without working very hard, and living myself, and what's worse, making my poor child live, on bread and water!"

I tried to say something that might comfort this poor woman, but I felt it was a very sad case, and could not say much. She answered to what I did say, "True, ma'am, true, God will strengthen me to bear what only His own hand could bring upon me. May he forgive my complaining heart. He has given me back my child from the very gate of the grave, and now He has sent you to me to be a kind friend in my time of great trouble, and I ought to feel, and I will try to feel, very thankful. But, good-by, ma'am, I hope to see you again to-morrow. I must not stay longer now, for fear my poor child should want me." So saying, she shook hands with Harriet and me, and went into the house.

As soon as she was gone, Harriet, who had stood while we were talking, staring with a half-frightened look, first at Mrs. Scott, and then at me, said in a low tone, "Aunt Kitty, what is the matter with Alice? What does Mrs. Scott mean by calling her a blind girl? Surely, Alice will see again soon—will she not, Aunt Kitty?"

"I fear not, my love, I fear not—certainly not, unless Mrs. Scott can take her where she can have more done for her than anybody here can do, and I know not how she will get money enough to do that."