“She didn’t like it no way at first,” the lad’s blue eyes twinkled, “but she got kind o’ used to it, an’ then I promised that when she growed big I’d let her be a girl. And whin the leddy that does the settlement work comed round and wanted me to go ter the country I couldn’t leave the kid, and when she said he could come too, I didn’t squeal on meself, but jest kept mumlike, for they wouldn’t have let her come wid me if they knowed she was a girl. Sure, marm, we’ll have ter wait till morning to go back,” the lad tried to steady his voice, “fur the boss wid the brass buttons on the train told me there ain’t no train till then. Can we walk to the station, do yer think?” he inquired pleadingly.
“But you’re not going back, Danny,” replied Nathalie. “You’re going to stay right here with me, as long as you’re good and mind me. It doesn’t make a bit of difference if your sister is not a boy. I wrote for three boys, for I thought boys could take care of themselves in a way. Then, as we have no servants here, and I get tired sometimes with so much to do, I thought that boys would be more of a help. But we’ll dress your sister as a girl, and—Oh, don’t cry, Danny,” for the boy had turned his head aside, and was silently struggling with his sobs.
But they were sobs of joy, as Nathalie soon discovered, as, with a final shake of his thin shoulders, he faced about and cried: “Oh, thank you, ma’am. No, I ain’t no blubberin’ calf, but sure I just couldn’t let the kid go back alone—and—But Gee, leddy, it sure is heaven up here with these big hills—and the green trees—and the flowers—And, leddy,” he pulled at Nathalie’s sleeve as she turned to go away, “I kin be a sight o’ help ter yer, for I knows how to wash dishes, and I kin cook too, a good bit.”
“Oh, that will be just fine, Danny,” enthused Nathalie, “for I am wild to have a man chef, and I’ll let you wash all the dishes you want to, for that’s a job I hate. And, Danny,” said the girl, patting the boy’s shoulder gently, “we are going to make it as near like Heaven up here as we can. But come, son, you must be tired.” And then she led the boy up-stairs to the upper floor, where, in a large corner-room, she had taken the other boys, who were undressed and ready to tumble into the three beds.
After directing Danny to sleep in the double bed, as he was the largest, so that each one of the smaller boys could have a bed to himself, she showed them the closet and how to hang up their clothes,—what little they had, they had brought tied up in handkerchiefs, or on their backs,—she turned to go. “Yes, and you must be sure to get up, every one of you, when you hear the big bell ring in the morning.”
She had reached the door, after bidding them goodnight, when a sudden thought turned her back. And then Nathalie had her first solemn moments with her boys, as she told each one that, before getting in bed, he must say his prayers, so as to thank God for the good things that had been given them that day. The little Italian lad immediately drew out his rosary and began to say his beads, but Danny scratched his head in a dubious sort of way, and mumbled that it was so long since he had said his prayers that he couldn’t remember what he was to say.
But this forgetfulness on Danny’s part was soon remedied, as the girl made him kneel by her in the moonlight that streamed through the window, and solemnly repeat, “Now I lay me down to sleep,” adding a few words as a suggestion to the boy as to what he should add to the prayer. Danny, with a brighter face, now began to prepare for bed, and Nathalie, as she again turned to leave the room, stopped to speak with the refugee. And then the girl’s eyes grew moist, for he had stolen into the darkest corner of the room, and, with his one hand solemnly upraised, was repeating a prayer softly to himself, while the little yellow cur stood at attention by his side.
CHAPTER XIII
“THE MOUNTAINS WITH SNOWY FOREHEADS”
It was something of a surprise the next morning to Danny’s companions, to see a little maid, clothed and in her right mind, as Janet expressed it, come shyly into the dining-room,—a little maid who bore a very strong resemblance to the brown-eyed, curly-haired, whimpering little lad of the day before. The black eyes of the Italian boy, Tony, widened, and then, with a shy gleam of humor in their liquid depths, he nodded at the little girl, crying under his breath, “Oh, Boy!” But the little maid proved herself competent to manage the situation to her satisfaction, as she quickly made a face at him, for which she was properly rebuked by Nathalie, who, however, was on the verge of a laugh, while a ripple of amusement gleamed in her mother’s eyes.