Daddy's Girl Part 31

"Besides," he added, "it wouldn't be the same. It's you he wants to see as much as the fruit. If I was a little lady I'd keep my word to the poor. It's a dangerous thing to break your word to the poor; there's G.o.d's curse on them as do."

Sibyl seemed to shrink into herself. She looked up at the sky.

"Lord Jesus wouldn't curse a little girl like me, a little girl who loves Him," she thought; but, all the same, the old man's words seemed to chill her.

"I'll do my very best," she said, and she went slowly across the garden. Old Scott called after her:

"I wouldn't disappoint the little lad if I was you, Missy. He's a-counting of the minutes."

A clock in the stable yard struck five. Old Scott continued to watch Sibyl as she walked away.

"I could take the apples," he said to himself; "I could if I had a mind to, but I don't see why the quality shouldn't keep their word, and I'm due to speak at the Mission Hall this evening. Little Miss should know afore she makes promises. She's a rare fine little 'un, though, for all that. I never see a straighter face, eyes that could look through you. Dear little Missy! Dan thinks a precious sight of her. I expect somehow she'll take him the apples."

So old Scott went on murmuring to himself, sometimes breaking off to sing a song, and Sibyl returned to the house.

CHAPTER XIV.

She walked slowly, her eyes fixed on the ground. She was thinking harder than she had ever thought before in the whole course of her short life. When she reached the parting of the ways which led in one direction to the sunny, pretty front entrance, and in the other to the stables, she paused again to consider.

Miss Winstead was standing in the new schoolroom window. It was a lovely room, furnished with just as much taste as Sibyl's own bedroom.

Miss Winstead put her head out, and called the child.

"Tea is ready, you had better come in. What are you doing there?"

"Is your head any better?" asked Sibyl, a ghost of a hope stealing into her voice.

"No, I am sorry to say it is much worse. I am going to my room to lie down. Nurse will give you your tea."

Sibyl did not make any answer. Miss Winstead, supposing that she was going into the house, went to her own room. She locked her door, lay down on her bed, and applied aromatic vinegar to her forehead.

Sibyl turned in the direction of the stables.

"It don't matter about my tea," she said to herself. "Nursie will think I am with Miss Winstead, and Miss Winstead will think I am with nurse; it's all right. I wonder if Ben would ride mother's horse with me; but the first thing is to get the apples."

The thought of what she was about to do, and how she would coax Ben, the stable boy, to ride with her cheered her a little.

"It's awful to neglect the poor," she said to herself. "Old Scott was very solemn. He's a good man, is Scott, he's a very religious man, he knows his Bible beautiful. He does everything by the Psalms; it's wonderful what he finds in them--the weather and everything else. I asked him before the storm came yesterday if we was going to have rain, and he said 'Read your Psalms and you'll know. Don't the Psalms for the day say "the Lord of glory thundereth"?' and he looked at a black cloud that was coming up in the sky, and sure enough we had a big thunderstorm. It's wonderful what a religious man is old Scott, and what a lot he knows. He wouldn't say a thing if it wasn't true. I suppose G.o.d does curse those who neglect the poor. I shouldn't like to be cursed, and I did promise, and Dan _will_ be waiting and watching.

A little girl whom Jesus loves ought to keep her promise. Well, anyhow, I'll get the apples ready."

Sibyl rushed into the house by a side entrance, secured a basket and entered the orchard. There she made a careful and wise selection. She filled the basket with the golden green fruit, and arranged it artistically with apple-leaves.

"This will tempt dear little Dan," she said to herself. There were a few greengages just beginning to come to perfection on a tree near.

Sibyl picked several to add to her pile of tempting fruit, and then she went in the direction of the stables. Ben was nowhere about. She called his name, he did not answer. He was generally to be found in the yard at this hour. It was more than provoking.

"Ben! Ben! Ben!" called the child. Her clear voice sounded through the empty air. There came a gentle whinny in response.

"Oh, my darling Nameless Pony!" she thought. She burst open the stable door, and the next instant stood in the loose box beside the pony. The creature knew her and loved her. He pushed out his head and begged for a caress. Sibyl selected the smallest apple from the basket and gave it to her pony. The nameless pony munched with right good will.

"I could ride him alone," thought Sibyl; "it is only two or three miles away, and I know the road, and mother, though she may be angry when she hears, will soon forgive me. Mother never keeps angry very long--that is one of the beautiful things about her. I do really think I will go by my lone self. I made a promise. Mother made a promise too, but then she forgets. I really do think I'll go. It's too awful to remember your promise to the poor, and then to break it. I wonder if I could saddle pony? Pony, darling, will you stay very quiet while I try to put your saddle on? I have seen Ben do it so often, and one day I coaxed him to let me help him."

Just then a voice at the stable door said--

"Hullo! I say!" and Sibyl, starting violently, turned her head and saw a rough-headed lad of the name of Johnson, who sometimes a.s.sisted old Scott in the garden. Sibyl was not very fond of Johnson. She took an interest in him, of course, as she did in all human beings, but he was not fascinating like little Dan Scott, and he had not a religious way with him like old Scott; nevertheless, she was glad to see him now.

"Oh, Johnson," she said eagerly, "I want you to do something for me so badly. If you will do it I will give you an apple."

"What is it, Miss?" asked Johnson.

"Will you saddle my pony for me? You can, can't you?"

"I guess I can," answered Johnson. He spoke laconically.

"Want to ride?" he said. "Who's a-goin' with yer?"

"No one, I am going alone."

Johnson made no remark. He looked at the basket of apples.

"I say," he cried, "them's good, I like apples."

"You shall have two, Johnson; oh, and I have a penny in my pocket as well. Now please saddle the pony very fast, for I want to be off."

Johnson did not see anything remarkable in Sibyl's intended ride. He knew nothing about little Missy. As far as his knowledge went it was quite the habit for little ladies to ride by themselves. Of course he would get the pony ready for her, so he lifted down the pretty new side-saddle from its place on the wall, and arranged it on the forest pony's back. The pony turned his large gentle eyes, and looked from Johnson to the child.

"It don't matter about putting on my habit," said Sibyl. "It will take such a lot of time, I can go just as I am, can't I, Johnson?"

"If you like, Miss," answered Johnson.

"I think I will, really, Johnson," said Sibyl in that confiding way which fascinated all mankind, and made rough-headed Johnson her slave for ever.

"I might be caught, you know, if I went back to the house."

"Oh, is that it?" answered Johnson.

"Yes, that's it; they don't understand. No one understands in the house how 'portant it is for me to go. I have to take the apples to Dan Scott. I promised, you know, and it would not be right to break my promise, would it, Johnson?"

Johnson scratched his head.

"I guess not!" he said.

"If I don't take them, he'll fret and fret," said Sibyl; "and he'll never trust me again; and the curse of G.o.d is on them that neglect the poor. Isn't it so, Johnson? You understand, don't you?"

"A bit, perhaps, Missy."