A Little Girl of Long Ago by Amanda Minnie Douglas (e reader txt) 📖

declared Mrs. Underhill. "No one can tell what will happen to her. I shouldn't have thought it of Mr. Theodore. The women, of course, are not overweighted with common sense, and the poor child has no mother."

"Oh, dear," sighed Hanny, "all the little girls are dropping out; and we used to have such nice times. I do wonder if Daisy means ever to come back. And Josie Dean is a young lady with long dresses, and does up her hair."

"Elenora Whitney is not worth worrying about," subjoined Mrs. Underhill, tartly; "and Josie Dean is a very nice, modest girl."

Charles Reed and Josie had dropped into a fashion of making frequent calls during the summer. The young fellow made a confidant of Doctor Joe, as young people were very apt to do, he was so sympathetic and kindly.

Mr. Reed had quite a fancy at first that he should study medicine.

"It is a fine profession, when one's heart is in it," said Doctor Joe. "And there are so many new discoveries and methods all the time. Still, I can't quite fancy Charlie taking up the disagreeable side."

"He could be a professor, I suppose," commented his father, rather reluctantly. "He loves study and books, and he ought to turn his education to some account. I would do anything for him; he knows that. He is all I have; and he is a fine boy."

It was odd; but Charlie talked his desire over with Josie first of all, and she approved of it enthusiastically. Then he rather timidly confessed it to his father.

"I used to believe that I never wanted to be a clergyman; but, after mother died, I began to think it over. She was so sort of sweet and changed that last year, almost as if she had a presentiment; and though she took such an interest in my studies, she never spoke of that, though I know it was her heart's desire. All the time I seem to have had a leaning towards it. It is a grand life, when one's heart and soul are in it; and I am sure now mine would be. I should feel as if I was keeping near to her, and doing something for her happiness. And if you would not feel disappointed--"

"My boy, I should be gratified," said his father, warmly. "I should not have tried to influence your choice; but I do think, in certain ways, you are especially fitted for this profession. I can trust you never to bring discredit on so sacred a calling; and I think you are alive to the true responsibility of it. Yes; it is what she would like, if she were here."

Jim declared he had felt sure of this decision all the last year. They all decided Charles Reed would make a fine conscientious clergyman.


CHAPTER XVII

A GLAD SURPRISE

Doctor Joe stood at the doorway of the Institute. It was still in Madison Street, though it was to go up-town and be transformed into a college. The girls came trooping out,--they were really girls then, and had a deliciously girlish air.

"Oh, Joe!" cried Hanny, glancing up rather in amaze. What had happened?

He bowed gravely to some of her compeers. They thought Jim splendid; but they stood a little in awe of grave Doctor Joe.

"I have come for you to go and make a call," he said. "Let me take your books."

She glanced up the street.

"Oh, this isn't in style," he began laughingly. "I have neither coach nor four."

"Then we will have a nice walk. Where? Down at the Battery?"

She had such a sweet, eager face, and she was so easily pleased.

"We will go over to Broadway, first," he replied. "Then--well, wherever you like."

So they chatted as they walked along, across City Hall Square, where the fountain was still playing on sunny days.

The Astor House was yet in its glory. She wondered a little, as they walked up the stone steps, through the hall, and then up the thickly padded stairs, and into the spacious parlour.

A lady, dressed in black, was standing by the window, and turned smilingly. Hanny was bewildered by a familiar likeness. Then a young girl sprang up from the sofa; and Hanny caught a glint of golden curls, as she was clasped in the outstretched arms.

"Oh, Hanny!"

"Oh, Daisy!"

That was all they said for a moment or two. They cried a little, as people often do, out of pure gladness, and just hugged each other tighter.

"I was so afraid I never should see you again. Papa laughed. You know he has crossed the ocean so many times. If I hadn't been coming home, I suppose I shouldn't have been worried. But it seemed such a long, long while, and I was just crazy to see you, to get home. I don't believe I shall ever really want to go abroad again."

Hanny raised her head from Daisy Jasper's shoulder. Oh, what a tall girl she was! Her complexion was like pearl and blush roses; her hair was a wonderful gold; and her eyes, somehow, suggested the starry heaven at night. Hanny felt strangely abashed.

Then Mrs. Jasper claimed a greeting. Hanny knew that a year ago they had lost Aunt Ellen, with an attack of fever. Mrs. Jasper looked rather pale, but she had not changed.

"Why, you haven't grown a bit!" cried Daisy. "And look at me! You'll have to go to German baths, and all that, to get a good start. What a pity you did not go with us! I've had such a longing for girls. You don't get acquainted with them on the continent. They are always in the school-room. And I am just hungry, all the way through, for some one young and enthusiastic, and foolish and merry things to laugh at."

"But--I didn't know you were coming--"

"No, dear Doctor Joe kept the secret well. We did hope to be in on Saturday."

"Then _you_ knew?" and she looked half reproachfully at her brother.

He laughed. He had only done Daisy's bidding.

"Now, if you want to keep Hanny to dinner, I'll come down this evening. I have a few calls to make," he announced presently.

"Indeed we do. You have so many folks, you might give me Hanny," and Daisy glanced at Doctor Joe with a bright, arch smile.

"If you took Hanny, you would have to take father and me, sure. The others might squeeze along without her; but I am afraid they would get thin on it."

Then the Doctor nodded and went his way.

"Now that you have Hanny, I will go and unpack one of the trunks," said Mrs. Jasper.

Hanny and Daisy went down in the corner of the long apartment, and took possession of a _tete-a-tete_.

"Oh, you are so changed!" cried the little girl "And so--so beautiful!"

"And so well! That's the loveliest thing. I can take long walks and dance, think of that! I am only a little lame. Just the merest crook in my back, and one leg a tiny bit shorter, but a thick sole makes it all right. And I've grown like a weed, while you are a tiny bit of something very choice,--a dainty little white rose. And I am so glad to have you again. Oh, don't let anything ever come between us! Let us be friends all our lives long. I have brought you a beautiful ring to bind friendship."

"Oh," sighed Hanny, in delight.

"And there have been so many changes! Oh, who do you think we met in London? Not Whittington and his cat, but Nora Whitney without her cat. And poor Pussy Gray is dead, and Nora is a tall young lady with a splendid voice, and will make a famous singer, I suppose. And Delia is getting to be famous too, I hear. It is odd, but she doesn't suggest a genius to my mind. I think you often are disappointed in geniuses. We saw some while abroad, and they did not come up to my expectations, or else one expects too much. Still there are some lovely faces."

"But she is just delightful! Only she keeps so busy, we do not see much of her."

"And poor little Tudie! How sad it was! I can sympathise with her sister now, for being an only child."

Then Hanny said Charlie had entered a theological seminary; and Daisy agreed being a clergyman would prove just the calling for him, he was so earnest and conscientious. Hanny had written everything, she thought; but Daisy was so eager to hear it all over again.

Mr. Jasper came in. He had been back and forth, and kept up the habit of calling on the Underhills, so nothing about Hanny surprised him.

The little girl felt rather startled when she went into the large dining-room. At this period, there were people who spent the whole season at the Astor House, though there were some newer hotels that were very attractive. It was like a grand party, Hanny thought. The ladies were so prettily attired, so bright and chatty.

When they went back to the parlour, that looked like a party, too. Hanny felt very plain in her school-dress. There were a number of Mr. Jasper's business friends, that he brought up to introduce to his wife and the two girls. But they were so busy talking, that they hardly noticed any one else.

Doctor Joe returned, armed with an invitation from Mrs. Underhill, for Mrs. Jasper and Daisy, to come up and make them a visit; and Mrs. Jasper said she should be glad to go somewhere, and find an old-fashioned American home-feeling. Daisy could hardly let Hanny go. Doctor Joe proposed that he should come for Daisy the next day, for she could not be of any special service to her mother until some plans were decided upon. That was a splendid thought.

They kissed and kissed, as if they were never to see each other again. Hanny's eyes were lustrous, and her cheeks pink with excitement. And there was so much to tell her mother.

"You must go to bed," declared Doctor Joe. "It is after ten."

"But, oh, my lessons! I have not looked at them."

"Never mind lessons now. You can get up early in the morning."

She was very tired, she had talked so much and listened so intently. And in five minutes she was asleep, in spite of the unlearned lessons.

She studied every moment the next morning, and all the way down in the stage, and managed to get through. She was a very good scholar ordinarily, and ambitious to have perfect recitations. But she kept counting the hours, for she could hardly believe Daisy Jasper was really at home.

Joe brought her up to the house when he had finished his round of calls. He handed her out quite as if she was a stylish young lady, though she was not in long gowns. But Joe was curiously proud of her, as being one of his first cases.

Everybody gave her a cordial welcome. Jim was at once her most devoted. Mrs. Underhill soon concluded foreign ways had not spoiled her; and grandmother said she was a pretty-behaved, intelligent girl. But, oh, the things she had seen, and done! She could talk French and German; she had taken painting-lessons from real artists, and had some pretty studies for Hanny, in a box not yet unpacked. She had brought the