Six Girls Part 13

"Just so; don't strain your lungs that much again, I'm coming, clear the track," responded Kat cheerfully, and came clattering down with her shoes unlaced, and her nose as red as a beet.

"Bless the people, but isn't it cold, though. Whew! Jupiter Ammons! What a relief it is to say something when you're most friz. You don't look cheerful, sister mine."

"I don't care; it's your week to build the fire and mine to set the table, and I think you were real mean, to go to sleep again, when you know Olive has to have her breakfast at seven," grumbled Kittie, flying about distractedly, while Kat sat on the floor and whistled "Down in a coal-mine," as she laced her shoes.

"That's the truth, my dear, melancholy like the present days. But you just skip into the dining-room and set your table, and I'll have a few words to say to this stove in private, if I don't freeze stiff beforehand;" and Kat jumped up briskly, having compromised on a lace with one shoe, by tying the strings about her ankle. "No kindling to begin with! Oh, this is bliss! Now for a trot to the woodshed," and away went Kat flying down the yard and back again in a minute with her arms full.

"I'll be late," said Olive, putting her head in the door, just as the fire began to snap with its new supply of kindling.

"Sorry, but doing the best I can," answered Kat, pausing a minute to warm her numb fingers. "Can you get along on bread and coffee for this morning?"

"I suppose I'll have to," answered Olive, none too graciously, and shut the door again with a snap.

"Cross-patch, draw the latch, sit at the fire and spin," sang Kat; then the door opened again, and Ernestine came in.

"Dear me, how cold it is in here, and Bea hasn't got the sitting-room fire built either. I'd just as soon be out doors."

"Go on, and let's see how long you'll stay," said Kat, shaking an egg into her coffee. "If the fires don't get along fast enough to suit you, pitch in and build one of them; there's piles of difference between that and standing around watching some one else."

Ernestine chose to ignore the remark, and stood warming her fingers, while she contemplated the frosty window-pane.

"To-day's lesson-day, so of course I hate it," she said, with an air of settled resignation. "I never thought I'd teach music, that's sure. I never was cut out for it, so neither the children, nor I, get along well. Is there anything I can do to help out here?"

"No, breakfast is ready; just trot the bread in to the table. I'll bring the b.u.t.ter, and the coffee will be done in a few minutes; that's all we've got for breakfast this morning," said Kat, vanishing down the cellar stairs.

"I could eat two hundred and fifty griddle cakes, I know!" exclaimed Kittie, as they collected about the table, and Bea began rattling the cups, and the bread started around.

"Come down a hundred and seventy-five," laughed Ernestine who had taken time, despite all depressing circ.u.mstances, to twist a rose-colored ribbon in her sunny hair. "I believe it's going to snow real hard; don't I wish those children wouldn't come to-day. You all can't imagine how horrible it is to teach music."

"Well, you have the easiest time of any of us," said Kittie.

"You ought to cook and wash dishes awhile," cried Kat.

"Or keep the house," added Bea.

"Or have to stay all day long in the dreariest store in town and keep books," echoed Olive.

"I thought you loved to work so?" said Ernestine, in answer to this last comparison. "You're always preaching independence."

"So I do," answered Olive, setting her cup down with crackable force. "I never would be idle, but I could choose more pleasant kind of work than sitting in Mr. Dane's office all day; it's the dreariest place I ever got into."

"Well, anyhow, Christmas is coming," said Bea, nodding cheerfully over the coffee-urn.

"More's the pity," said Kittie disconsolately. "We're not going to get anything; it'll be awful poky."

"But mama'll be home for ten days; oh, bliss!" cried Kat, waving her teaspoon, and every cloudy face brightened. "Can't we give her something, girls?"

"I don't see how," said Ernestine. "It takes every cent we all earn to keep things going. Who ever thought we'd be so poor? Just think of last Christmas, how glorious!"

Everybody remembered, and faces saddened again. How gay the house had been in evergreens! how mysterious the locked parlors, where all knew, a tree stood, branching up to the ceiling; how blissfully happy everybody had been during the two weeks when the world becomes one in spirit and truth, and the G.o.d of good-will wields the sceptre and wears the crown!

Father had been with them, dear, unselfish, great-hearted papa, whose every exertion had been to make them all happy and whose dearest hope and prayer had been that his girls might be n.o.ble, splendid women, with pure, true hearts and the spirit of G.o.d therein.

"Olive, will you bring some b.u.t.ter when you come home? This is the last drop," said Kittie, sc.r.a.ping the dish, and collecting the silver, after the meal was finished, as it was very soon, for breakfasts were hurried now-a-days.

"Yes; two pounds? That's the third time this month; our bill will be pretty big. If I'm very busy I will not be home to dinner."

"Sha'n't I fix some lunch for you?"

"I haven't time to wait. Where's my rubbers?"

"I don't know. Kat, did you have Olive's rubbers last night?"

"Yes, and I don't know any more than Adam where I put them. Look in the closet, Olive, and I'll run up stairs and see," answered Kat, departing in haste.

"Well, I wish you would let my things alone," said Olive testily, throwing down her mittens and veil, and diving into the closet; the general closet, as it was called, where everything, from the kitchen stove-hook to the girls best Sunday-go-to-meeting bonnets, were apt to find a lodging at odd times. "I never can be on time," she muttered, slamming things around and comparing various odd rubbers. "This closet looks like a demented bedlam. I'd be ashamed, that's what I would."

"I can't do everything," answered Bea in a hurry, feeling that the thrust was meant for her. "Because I'm housekeeper, it doesn't rest on me to keep everything in perfect order, when you all help to muss up."

"It's like distraction without mama, anyhow," declared Kittie, departing for the kitchen, with her hands full of dishes, and scowling defiantly at the stove, where the fire was sizzling with a lazy sputter, while the dish-water taking advantage of the lull in heat, cooled at leisure.

"Pretty near as bad without Huldah," was Ernestine's comment. "I'm nearly starved for a splendid good meal like we used to have, when we could eat all we wanted, and didn't have to think how much it cost, or worry with cooking it."

"You do less than anybody towards getting it," said Olive, coming flushed and impatient from her vain search. "If Kat doesn't leave my things alone, I'll--"

"Let not your angry pa.s.sions rise," cried Kat, coming in with a rubber whirling on each hand, and quoting her copy-book with cheerful disregard for any one's anger. "Here's your rubbers, my dear, and I found them right where I put them, on the end of our mantel-piece, where I put them in plain sight so as not to forget to bring them down this morning, as my prophetic soul felt a row in the air if they were not in sight at six and a half, sharp."

"You talk like a lunatic," was Olive's sole response as she drew them on.

"It's my only talent, dear," answered Kat cheerfully, beginning to work on the table, where she made the dishes rattle.

Bea trailed slowly through the room with her broom and dust pan, and a rather discontented face. Olive tied on her veil and hurried away to her daily business; Ernestine went to practice a new piece 'till the first scholar should arrive; and Kittie and Kat were left to the bliss of dish-washing and kitchen work. So began the day.

This was several weeks after events last recorded, and all things in the Dering household had changed much.

Jean had not gone to Virginia at once. Her wardrobe had needed complete repairing, and during the time so occupied, Mr. Congreve spent much of it in the city, sending therefrom various and beautiful things for Jean, and a dress for each of the girls, doing so without permission, knowing, that if asked, it would be refused him.

Kittie and Kat had been withdrawn from school, and studied at home with the older girls. Their part of the work fell in the kitchen. With Mrs.

Dering and Huldah for teachers, they had studied the easier branches of cooking, and the crooks and by-ways of that department of general work.

They proved apt and merry pupils, and learned their tasks quite readily, so, that while the girls missed the wonderful dishes that Huldah had been able to "knock up," they were daily fed on very palatable food, considering the age and newness of the young cooks.

Bea was chief housekeeper, kept an eye over general affairs, sat at the head of the table, and had commenced doing her hair in a most dignified way; filling with much girlish satisfaction, the position of "Miss Dering," and "lady of the house."

Olive was book-keeper in Mr. Dane's store, and really more head of the family than Bea, as she kept all accounts, settled the bills, and was frequently consulted on some questionable matters, involving the home expenses. To Ernestine fell the easy lot of four pupils in music.

Affording her no opportunities of display, or avenue for compliments or praise, she thought it very hard indeed, and found it bitterly uncongenial, to her ideas of independence, if, indeed, she had ever possessed any really tangible ones. She wanted to help, as a matter of course, especially as all the rest did; but such an ordinary, self-denying way was sadly distasteful to her, and she still had a vague, but pleasing, idea of becoming a great prima-donna and electrifying vast concourses of people, who would praise, admire, and pay her largely. Unfortunately, however, such positions do not lie around in wait, and invite some one to honor them with an acceptance; but, in spite of such a discouraging fact, Ernestine held tenaciously to her pleasing idea, and spent much time in thinking how delightful all things would be, when that time arrived.

Mrs. Dering had secured the desired position in the seminary, three miles out of Canfield, and had a flourishing cla.s.s in both music and languages. The stage came in twice a week after mail, and at these times the anxious mother made hurried trips home, and these few hours were s.n.a.t.c.hes of greatest joy and comfort to all parties, and especially comforting to the girls, who found the first few weeks of the new life very trying, and oftentimes discouraging.

On the next Tuesday evening, when the stage came in, Mrs. Dering found a thick, tempting letter, with the Staunton post mark, and Jean's prim, childish hand writing. There had come several short letters from the little girl, who said she would wait until she saw everything about her new home before writing a very long letter to describe it; so it was evident now that the long letter had come, and with this extra joy for herself and the girls, Mrs. Dering hurried home, where everything was radiantly bright for her reception, and where the girls looked and felt as though care had rolled from them for the time, or was at least so lightened, that it seemed quite gone.