Queechy Volume I Part 61

"Well, I don't mind the things I had ought to most," said Barby, in a subdued voice ? "never! ? 'cept mother ? I aint very apt to forget her."

Mrs. Plumfield saw a tell-tale glittering beneath the drooping eyelid. She added no more but a sympathetic strong squeeze of the hand she held, and turned to follow Fleda who had gone on ahead.

"Mis' Plumfield," said Barby, before they had reached the stile that led into the road, where Fleda was standing, "will I be sure of having the money regular down yonder? You know, I hadn't ought to go otherways, on account of mother."

"Yes, it will be sure," said Mrs. Plumfield, "and regular;"

adding quietly, "I'll make it so."

There was a bond for the whole amount in aunt Miriam's eyes; and, quite satisfied, Barby went back to the house.

"Will she expect to come to our table, aunt Miriam'? said Fleda, when they had walked a little way.

"No, she will not expect that; but Barby will want a different kind of managing from those Irish women of yours. She wont bear to be spoken to in a way that don't suit her notions of what she thinks she deserves; and perhaps your aunt and uncle will think her notions rather high ? I don't know."

"There is no difficulty with aunt Lucy," said Fleda; "and I guess I can manage uncle Rolf ? I'll try. _I_ like her very much."

"Barby is very poor," said Mrs. Plumfield; "she has nothing but her own earnings to support herself and her old mother, and now, I suppose, her sister and her child; for Hetty is a poor thing ? never did much, and now I suppose does nothing."

"Are those Finns poor, aunt Miriam?"

"O no ? not at all ? they are very well off."

"So I thought ? they seemed to have plenty of everything, and silver spoons and all. But why then do they go out to work?"

"They are a little too fond of getting money, I expect," said aunt Miriam. "And they are a queer sort of people rather ? the mother is queer, and the children are queer ? they aint like other folks exactly ? never were."

"I am very glad we are to have Barby, instead of that Lucy Finn," said Fleda. "Oh, aunt Miriam! you can't think how much easier my heart feels."

"Poor child!" said aunt Miriam, looking at her. "But it isn't best, Fleda, to have things work too smooth in this world."

"No, I suppose not," said Fleda, sighing. "Isn't it very strange, aunt Miriam, that it should make people worse instead of better to have everything go pleasantly with them?"

"It is because they are apt then to be so full of the present, that they forget the care of the future."

"Yes, and forget there is anything better than the present, I suppose," said Fleda.

"So we mustn't fret at the ways our Father takes to keep us from hurting ourselves," said aunt Miriam, cheerfully.

"O no!" said Fleda, looking up brightly, in answer to the tender manner in which these words were spoken; ? "and I didn't mean that _this_ is much of a trouble ? only I am very glad to think that somebody is coming to-morrow."

Aunt Miriam thought that gentle unfretful face could not stand in need of much discipline.

CHAPTER XXI.

"Wise men alway Affyrme and say, That best is for a man Diligently, For to apply, The business that he can." ? MORE

Fleda waited for Barby's coming the next day with a little anxiety. The introduction and installation, however, were happily got over. Mrs. Rossitur, as Fleda knew, was most easily pleased, and Barby Elster's quick eye was satisfied with the unaffected and universal gentleness and politeness of her new employer. She made herself at home in half an hour; and Mrs. Rossitur and Fleda were comforted to perceive, by unmistakable signs, that their presence was not needed in the kitchen, and they might retire to their own premises and forget there was another part of the house. Fleda had forgotten it utterly, and deliciously enjoying the rest of mind and body, she was stretched upon the sofa, luxuriating over some volume from her remnant of a library, when the inner door was suddenly pushed open far enough to admit of the entrance of Miss Elster's head.

"Where's the soft soap?"

Fleda's book went down, and her heart jumped to her mouth, for her uncle was sitting over by the window. Mrs. Rossitur looked up in amaze, and waited for the question to be repeated.

"I say, where's the soft soap?"

"Soft soap!" said Mrs. Rossitur ? "I don't know whether there is any ? Fleda, do you know?"

"I was trying to think, aunt Lucy ? I don't believe there is any."

"_Where_ is it?" said Barby.

"There is none, I believe," said Mrs. Rossitur

"Where _was_ it, then?"

"Nowhere ? there has not been any in the house," said Fleda, raising herself up to see over the back of her sofa.

"There ha'n't been none!" said Miss Elster, in a tone more significant than her words, and shutting the door as abruptly as she had opened it.

"What upon earth does the woman mean?" exclaimed Mr. Rossitur, springing up and advancing towards the kitchen door. Fleda threw herself before him.

"Nothing at all, uncle Rolf ? she doesn't mean anything at all ? she doesn't know any better."

"I will improve her knowledge ? get out of the way, Fleda."

"But, uncle Rolf, just hear me one moment ? please don't! ?

she didn't mean any harm ? these people don't know any manners ? just let me speak to her, please, uncle Rolf!" said Fleda, laying both hands upon her uncle's arms ? "I'll manage her."

Mr. Rossitur's wrath was high, and he would have run over or knocked down anything less gentle that had stood in his way; hut even the harshness of strength shuns to set itself in array against the meekness that does not _oppose;_ if the touch of those hands had been a whit less light, or the glance of her eye less submissively appealing, it would have availed nothing. As it was, he stopped and looked at her, at first scowling, but then with a smile.

"_You_ manage her!" said he.

"Yes," said Fleda, laughing, and now exerting her force, she gently pushed him back towards the seat he had quitted ? "yes, uncle Rolf, you've enough else to manage, don't undertake our 'help.' Deliver over all your displeasure upon me when anything goes wrong ? I will be the conductor to carry it off safely into the kitchen, and discharge it just at that point where I think it will do most execution. Now, will you, uncle Rolf? ? Because we have got a new-fashioned piece of fire-arms in the other room, that I am afraid will go off unexpectedly if it is meddled with by an unskilful hand; and that would leave us without arms, you see, or with only aunt Lucy's and mine, which are not reliable."

"You saucy girl!" said her uncle, who was laughing partly at and partly with her, "I don't know what you deserve exactly.

Well, keep this precious new operative of yours out of my way, and I'll take care to keep out of hers. But mind, you must manage not to have your piece snapping in my face in this fashion, for I wont stand it."

And so, quieted, Mr. Rossitur sat down to his book again; and Fleda, leaving hers open, went to attend upon Barby.

"There ain't much yallow soap neither," said this personage, "if this is all. There's one thing ? if we ha'n't got it, we can make it. I must get Mis' Rossitur to have a leach-tub sot up right away. I'm a dreadful hand for havin' plenty o' soap."

"What is a leach-tub?" said Fleda.