Mostly Mary Part 4

It was well that Mary did not see the twinkle in the eyes of both gentlemen.

"But I thought you so much enjoyed going to school that you were sorry when vacation began."

"Yes, Father, I liked it ever so much in the spring, and I s'pose it would be the same now; but when Mother needs me, I think I ought to stay at home to help her; don't you?"

Mr. Selwyn looked very thoughtful indeed.

"Of course, dear, Mother must have all the help she needs; but it seems to me that it would be too bad to keep you home from school. Your education is a very important thing, you know. Would it not be better to engage another maid to help about the house and let Liza a.s.sist Mother and Aunt Mandy?"

"But I don't mean that I would stop studying my lessons every day.

Sister Florian said that Mother must be a fine teacher when I could skip Kindergarten and Primer and First Reader; but she has no time to help me now. The thing that popped into my head is that I would ask you and Uncle Frank to teach me in the evenings if you wouldn't mind doing it."

"Rather young to attend night school, eh, Rob? I, for one, should enjoy teaching you, Goldilocks; but for little girls of your age, I object strongly to night study. The morning and early afternoon are the proper times for you to study and recite, and the evening is the time to pet your old uncle."

"I, too, would gladly help you with your studies, but I agree with Uncle about the proper time for such things. If there were no good schools for you to attend, we should engage a governess for you; but such an arrangement is not always best, either. In a schoolroom, a child learns much from hearing the others recite, and is taught many, many things not in books. At school, too, she has playmates of her own age. So be ready to keep me company in the morning. I have missed by little companion very much during these weeks of vacation. The walk to school and back will do you good. I fear that you have been in the house entirely too much of late."

"O Father, I was just going to ask you to have Tom drive you to your office and drop me off at the convent. Then I wouldn't have to be away from the darling babies _quite_ so long, you know."

"But what of us, I should like to know? Your father and I leave the house as early as you do, and do not return until six or after in the evening. He cannot even come home to luncheon. How about that, eh?"

"That _is_ so, Uncle, isn't it? From half-past eight to six--how many hours is that?"

"Nine and one-half hours."

"Oh, dear, _me_! Well, if you and Father can stand it all that time, I ought to be able to stay away during school hours."

"In wet weather, of course, Tom will drive you to and from school, but on fine days you must be out of doors as much as possible. Then your appet.i.te will improve, and you will grow strong, and those rosy cheeks which you brought from the seash.o.r.e, but have since lost, will return. I fear that you are taking the babies too seriously. Remember, dear, you are not much more than a baby yourself."

"Why, _Father_! I am seven whole years and three whole months old!"

"Add three or four days and you will have it exactly. But in spite of all these years, months, and days, you are our _little_ Mary and will still be so when you are twice seven and even three times seven years old."

"Twice seven is the same as seven twos, and three times seven is seven threes--_then_ I shall have to fast. Surely, by _that_ time, Father, you can't call me _little_. No one could call you and Uncle little, and I s'pose you are about twenty-one."

"You will have to add many years to seven threes for my age. Make it between seven fives and sixes, and Uncle's something more than seven fours."

"'M, 'm,--then how many sevens is Mr. Conway, Father? He _looks_ almost as old as Santa Claus."

"He was seven times eleven years old last month."

"I know! the elevens are easy up to ten times eleven. Mr. Conway is seventy-seven; but I shall have to think about you and Uncle."

"No fair peeping into your arithmetic, young lady!" laughed the Doctor.

"That just reminds me of something. Will you please see Sister Florian in the morning, Father, and ask her to give me a new reader?"

"Have you lost your book, or is it worn out?"

"Neither, Father. It is too easy. It is only the Second Reader, and I can read all the lessons in it; so I think I had better have the Third; don't you?"

"Sister Florian will be the best judge of that, pet. Are you as well up in your other studies as you are in reading? How about number work?"

"That is the hardest thing of all, Father."

"Then it would be well to devote to that study the time when the other children are preparing their reading; would it not?"

"Ye--es, Father, I s'pose it would."

"And remember what I have said, dear, about Berta and Beth. Just look upon them as playmates, and Liza will attend to the many, many things that you have been doing to help Mother. Your studies will be duties enough for you until you are quite a little older; and all the daylight hours when you are not in school must be spent outdoors playing with Rosemary and those other little girls whom Mother said you might bring home from school with you last spring. Their parents are friends of ours."

"But can't I be with Mother and the babies at _all_, Father?"

"Indeed, yes! Mother or Aunt Mandy will walk down to the convent with the babies in their carriage to meet you every afternoon, and you may come home the long way if you like. You will have the whole evening to enjoy yourself in the house; and as the days grow shorter, you will not be able to stay outdoors until dinner time."

"Oh, goody! Will they soon begin to grow shorter, Father?"

"They began to do so two months ago," was the laughing reply.

"But if I eat more at meals, may I come in about five o'clock even if it is not getting dark?"

"Well, if you eat a _great deal_ more, I may relent a little. A child of your age should not have it to say that she is not hungry when meal time comes."

"Why, I do believe I am hungry right now!"

"So am I! Come, let us play 'Old Mother Hubbard' and see if Susie put away any necks or backbones of those chickens we had for dinner," and the Doctor caught her up and carried her off to the kitchen.

"He is almost as much a child as she is," thought Mr. Selwyn. "Strange that her little head should be filled with such grown-up ideas and childish notions at the same time."

But it was not really so strange as Mr. Selwyn thought; for Mary's life had been spent for the most part among grown people, and the thoughtful care shown by her parents and uncle for one another had taught her many lessons of unselfishness and regard for the feelings of others. At the same time, she loved her dolls and toys, and played wonderful games of make believe, when she peopled her playroom with the little girls and boys who sometimes visited her. So, if in one way, she showed a wisdom beyond her years and behaved in a very motherly manner toward the twins, in another, she was just a happy child of seven, quite ready to join in the games and frolics of little children her own age, or of big children like the Doctor.

"The cupboard will surely be bare, Uncle, for it is too warm to keep things to eat in there now."

"We shall make believe that the icebox is the cupboard.... Oh, _my_!"

"Have you found something good? What is it?"

"Quite enough for a little spread for two. Hold this while I get these other things," and the Doctor handed her a platter with the greater part of a chicken on it. Then, with a chuckle, he took lettuce, celery, and fruit from the icebox.

"We shall have our spread on the kitchen table. Now for the pantry! This reminds me of old times. I remember well the many times Aunt Mandy caught me at the jam jar in this same old pantry."

"But surely Aunt Mandy didn't say anything to _you_ for taking it."

"Didn't she, indeed! But it was not what she _said_, but what she _did_, that really counted. I was only a little shaver of five, though I am not excusing myself on that account; for I grew worse with age, and treated my friends through the pantry window. Where _is_ that bread box!--Come, now, pull up a chair and begin. Your father does not know what he is missing. He thinks late suppers do not agree with old folks like him; but for young people like us--"

He was interrupted by a merry laugh from the little girl, who sat facing the open door, and turning, he saw his sister in the doorway.

"You two rogues! I came down to find Mary, for I was afraid she was walking in her sleep. Beth has been so restless that I have not been able to go to bed; and after she became quiet, I stole into Mary's room and found it empty."