“This is so nice—so like a dream I’ve had of something. I shall be better here,” Daisy said, as she leaned from the window and looked out upon the yard and garden below.
“Can I do anything for you? I am to be your little maid. I am Rena Harris.”
This was what Rena said as the lady turned from the window, and Daisy’s brown eyes looked wonderingly at her, while a deep flush suffused the white face for an instant and then left it paler than before.
“Rena, Rena,” she repeated; “I never knew but one, and she is with the angels. I called baby Irene, and she died too. Rena; it’s very strange that you should have that name.”
Daisy was talking to herself now, for at the first mention of Irene, Rena had darted down stairs to Aunt Hannah, exclaiming:
“I’ve got it now—my real name. You know I never could think for sure, but the moment she said her baby was Irene, it came back to me. That was the name in the Bible—Irene Cutler, and Ruth read it to me once and she called me Rena. Oh, grandma, you don’t know how sad the lady looked when she said, ‘Rena, Rena!’ I shall love her so dearly, and I mean to take such good care of her, too.”
Rena was as good as her word, and soon loved the beautiful Daisy with a devotion both rare and curious, while Daisy never seemed happier than when her little maid was with her. She was very pretty with a fair creamy complexion, soft brown eyes and abundant hair of the same shade, which she wore in braids coiled about her head, while, added to her beauty was an air of grace and gentle dignity which alone would have made her very attractive. She did not seem to be really crazy; her mind was only weak, and sometimes when talking of her baby she said queer things, which showed that her reason was not quite clear. But the quiet, happy life she led at the farm-house began to have its influence, and when in September her husband, who had returned to Boston after seeing her comfortably settled, came again to Oakfield, he found her greatly improved. She was very happy there, and begged so hard to be allowed to stay until after Christmas that both Mr. and Mrs. Harris and her husband consented, while Rena was wild with delight when she heard of the arrangement.
When Mr. Rivers first came she had feared that she might lose the sweet lady whom she loved so much, but now she was to stay a long time, it seemed to her, and her joy knew no bounds, while she redoubled her efforts to please and amuse her patient who owed much of her improvement to Rena’s care. Together in the bright autumn days they roamed over the fields and thro’ the woods of Oakfield, and the villagers sometimes saw them sitting on the banks of the river, Rena at Daisy’s feet, looking up into the lovely face above her, while Daisy’s fingers caressed her golden hair, or wove for it a crown of the rich-hued autumn leaves.
Once Daisy said to her:
“You make me think so much of the sister I lost; her name was Rena, too.”