The Green Satin Gown Part 6

Apparently Adam and Lemuel wanted to see their father, for they appeared in the doorway at this moment: quiet-looking men, with grave, "set" faces; the hair already beginning to edge away from their temples.

"You are back early from the office, boys!" said Father Golden.

"We came as soon as we got the message," said Adam. "I hope nothing is wrong, father."

"What message, Adam?"

"Didn't you send for us? Benny came running in, all out of breath, and said you wished to see us at once. If he has been playing tricks again--"

Adam's grave face darkened into sternness. The trick was too evident.

"Something must be done about that boy, father!" he said. "He is the torment of the whole family."

"No one can live a day in peace!" said Lemuel.

"No dumb creature's life is safe!" said Joe.

"He breaks everything he lays hands on," said Ruth, "and he won't keep his hands off anything."

"You were all little once, boys!" said Mary.

"We never behaved in this kind of way!" said the brothers, sedate from their cradles. "Something must be done!"

"You are right," said Father Golden. "Something must be done."

Glancing once more at the portrait of Mother Golden, he turned and faced his children with grave looks.

"Sit down, sons and daughters!" said the old man. "I have something to say to you."

The young people obeyed, wondering, but not questioning. Father Golden was head of the house.

"You all come to me," said Father Golden, "with complaints of little Benjamin. It is singular that you should come to-day, for I have been waiting for this day to speak to you about the child myself."

He paused for a moment; then added, weighing his words slowly, as was his wont when much in earnest, "Ten years ago to-day, that child was left on our door-step."

The brothers and sisters uttered an exclamation, half surprised, half acquiescent.

"It doesn't seem so long!" said Adam.

"It seems longer!" said Mary.

"I keep forgetting he came that way!" murmured Joe.

"I felt doubtful about taking him in," Father Golden went on.

"But your mother wished it; you all wished it. We decided to keep him for a spell, and give him a good start in life, and we have kept him till now."

"Of course we have kept him!" said Ruth.

"Naturally!" said Lemuel.

Adam and Mary said nothing, but looked earnestly at their father.

"Little Benjamin is now ten years old, more or less," said Father Golden. "You are men and women grown; even Joseph is seventeen. Your mother has entered into the rest that is reserved for the people of G.o.d, and I am looking forward in the hope that, not through any merit of mine, but the merciful grace of G.o.d, I may soon be called to join her. Adam and Lemuel, you are settled in the business, and looking forward to making homes of your own with worthy young women.

Joseph is going to college, which is a new thing in our family, but one I approve, seeing his faculty appears to lie that way. Ruth will make a first-rate dressmaker, I am told by those who know. Mary--"

His quiet voice faltered. Mary took his hand and kissed it pa.s.sionately; a sob broke from her, and she turned her face away from the brothers and sister who loved but did not understand her.

They looked at her with grave compa.s.sion, but no one would have thought of interrupting Father Golden.

"Mary, you are the home-maker," the old man went on. "I hope that when I am gone this home will still be here, with you at the head of it. You are your mother's own daughter; there is no more to say." He was silent for a time, and then continued.

"There remains little Benjamin, a child of ten years. He is no kin to us; an orphan, or as good as one; no person has ever claimed him, or ever will. The time has come to decide what shall be done with the child."

Again he paused, and looked around. The serious young faces were all intent upon him; in some, the intentness seemed deepening into trouble, but no one spoke or moved.

"We have done all that we undertook to do for him, that night we took him in, and more. We have brought him--I should say your mother brought him--through his sickly days; we 'most lost him, you remember, when he was two years old, with the croup--and he is now a healthy, hearty child, and will likely make a strong man. He has been well treated, well fed and clothed, maybe better than he would have been by his own parents if so't had been. He is turning out wild and mischievous, though he has a good heart, none better; and you all, except Mary, come to me with complaints of him.

"Now, this thing has gone far enough. One of two things: either this boy is to be sent away to some inst.i.tution, to take his place among other orphans and foundlings, or--he must be one of you for now and always, to share alike with you while I live, to be bore with and helped by each and every one of you as if he was your own blood, and to have his share of the property when I am gone. Sons and daughters, this question is for you to decide. I shall say nothing. My life is 'most over, yours is just beginning. I have no great amount to leave you, but 'twill be comfortable so far as it goes. Benjamin has one-sixth of that, and becomes my own son, to be received and treated by you as your own brother, or he goes."

Mary hid her face in her hands. Adam walked to the window and looked out; but the other three broke out into a sudden, hurried clamor, strangely at variance with their usual staid demeanor.

"Oh, father, we couldn't let him go!"

"Why, father, I can't think what you mean!"

"I'm sure, sir, we never thought of such a thing as sending him away.

Why, he's our Ben."

"Good enough little kid, only mischievous."

"Needs a little governing, that's all. Mary spoils him; no harm in him, not a mite."

"And the lovingest little soul! the minute he found that Kitty's paw was cut, he sat down and cried--"

"I guess if Benny went, I'd go after him pretty quick!" said Joseph, who had been loudest in his complaint against the child.

Mary looked up and smiled through her tears. "Joe, your heart is in the right place!" she said. "I finished your shirts this morning, dear; I'm going to begin on your slippers to-night."

"Well, but, father--"

"Father dear, about little Benny--"

"Yes, sir--poor little Ben!"

"Go easy!" said Father Golden; and his face, as he looked from one to the other, was as bright as his name.

"Why, children, you're real excited. I don't want excitement, nor crying--Mary, daughter, I knew how you would feel, anyway. I want a serious word, 'go,' or 'stay,' from each one of you; a word that will last your lives long. I'll begin with the youngest, because that was your mother's way. She always said the youngest was nearest heaven. Joseph, what is your word about little Benjamin?"

"Stay, of course!" cried Joe. "Benny does tease me, but I should be nowhere without him."