Read Ebook: England in America 1580-1652 by Tyler Lyon Gardiner

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Ebook has 911 lines and 82893 words, and 19 pages

MR. DAWSON, Mousey's Uncle Dick, was a market gardener. His house was about half a mile from the town where Mousey had spent her short life. It had been the little girl's greatest pleasure to visit Aunt Eliza and Uncle Dick, when she had delighted in the gardens, and nurseries full of seedlings and plants.

Mr. and Mrs. Dawson had six children--the eldest twelve years old, and the youngest barely nine months--so there were many mouths to feed. It must not be imagined that Mrs. Dawson was in the least unkind, or unsympathetic because she was somewhat dismayed at the idea of adding Mousey to her family; she was fond of her dead sister's child, and would have shared her last crust with the little orphan, but she felt that Mr. Harding's offer ought not to be set aside without due consideration. She wished to do the best she could for her niece, and was by no means certain it would be right to keep her from her well-to-do cousin. On talking the matter over with her husband, they both came to the conclusion that Mousey's prospects in life would be decidedly more promising if she went to live with Mr. Harding than if she remained to share the home which was already so full of young folks. So it was, that one afternoon, a few days after her mother's funeral, Mrs. Dawson spoke to the little girl seriously about her future.

"Mousey, I want to have a talk with you," she said kindly. "You know that your mother's furniture has been sold?"

"Yes, Aunt Eliza," the little girl answered, the tears rising to her eyes as she thought of the familiar things in the possession of strangers.

"The furniture has not turned in much money, I'm sorry to say," Mrs. Dawson continued, "and unfortunately you've nothing besides. This morning your uncle had a letter from Cousin Robert, in which he asks when he may expect you."

"Oh, Aunt Eliza!"

Mrs. Dawson was seated in an easy-chair with the baby upon her lap. Mousey crept to her side, and looked up into her face with pleading eyes.

"I wish I could keep you here!" Mrs. Dawson exclaimed, as she put one arm around her little niece affectionately; "but Cousin Robert can do much more for you than we can."

"Oh, Aunt Eliza, please don't think of that!"

"But that is what I do think of, my dear. You see, Mousey, we are not well off, and it would make us miserable if we stood in your way. We think you ought to accept Cousin Robert's offer--it is really a most generous and kind one. You will not be far away from us, and you can always depend upon our love. Besides, you know, even if you had no Aunt Eliza and Uncle Dick, you would have one Friend on whom to rely."

Mousey looked at her aunt questioningly, her lips quivering, her brown eyes full of tears.

"I mean that Friend who said, 'Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world,'" Mrs. Dawson proceeded; "the Friend in whom your dear mother trusted above all others, and Who, we are certain, was with her through the valley of the shadow of death."

There was a brief silence, during which Mousey struggled to overcome her emotion, and succeeded so far as to presently ask in a resigned tone--

"When is Uncle Dick going to write to Cousin Robert? Soon?"

"He thinks of doing so to-morrow," Mrs. Dawson responded. "Cousin Robert is an old man, and I should think he must be very lonely. He never married, and he has no near relations. His must be a quiet home; perhaps you will make it brighter. Oh, my dear!" she exclaimed, as Mousey shook her head, "you must try to be happy there; it seems to me that there your duty lies. Don't you think that God may have a good purpose in sending you to Cousin Robert? I do. You don't wish to go? No, I can understand that, because you cannot see your path marked plainly for you; yet, there is a Hand stretched out to lead you, a Hand that will guide you in the right way, in the path of duty, which, though it may be dark and rugged at first, grows brighter and smoother the further you tread it."

"Do you really think I ought to go to live with Cousin Robert?" Mousey inquired wistfully.

"Yes, my dear, I do."

"Then I will go, Aunt Eliza. I--I want to do what is right, but I love you all so much. I don't know Cousin Robert like I know you and dear Uncle Dick, and I don't think I like the look of him much."

"You must not judge him by his appearance, child. Be sure he means to be kind to you, or he would not offer you a home."

"Yes; but he has such a gruff way of speaking, and his eyes are so bright and sharp that I feel rather afraid of him. Has he a very big shop, Aunt Eliza?"

"I don't know, but I expect he has, for I have always been given to understand that he does a large business. You are fond of pretty things, so you will be interested to see the goods he has for sale."

"Is he very rich, Aunt Eliza?"

"I believe he is. He has never had many expenses, and has lived a saving life. If he had a wife and children to provide for, like my husband has, he would not be so well-to-do. What message are you going to send to Cousin Robert?"

"Please ask Uncle Dick to thank him for being so kind as to want me to live with him," Mousey responded, after a little consideration, "and say I will try to please him all I can."

"Yes?"

"And if I go to live with him I hope he will let me come to see you all sometimes."

"I have no doubt he will. You will only be about thirty miles distant from us, and that's a very short journey by train. Ah, here is your uncle!"

Mr. Dawson came in, glancing anxiously from his wife to his niece, for he knew what had been the subject under discussion. Mousey ran to him and led him to a chair, after which she perched herself upon his knees.

"Well, child?" he said questioningly.

"It is decided she is to go to Cousin Robert," his wife answered. "We have had a long talk, and I think Mousey agrees with us which way her duty lies."

Uncle Dick's kind blue eyes rested regretfully on the little girl's face, and he heaved a deep sigh.

"If only I was a richer man, my dear," he said, stroking her hair with his big, tender hand, "there should be no question of your leaving us. But I could not afford to spend the money on your education that your Cousin Robert can, and as you will have to get your own living some day, I suppose that is a great matter for consideration. I am glad you see things in their right light; and I believe we're acting as your poor mother would wish. You'll write to us, and tell us how you're getting on, and--who knows?--perhaps your aunt and I may find time to pay you a visit one of these days."

"Oh, I hope you will!" Mousey cried excitedly; "that will be something to look forward to."

"Be very sure we shall not lose sight of you, my dear child," Mrs. Dawson said, with an affectionate smile at her little niece.

"It makes me so unhappy to think of parting from you all," Mousey told them; "but I should like to do what is right. I wish I knew Cousin Robert better, because then I should know how to please him. Do you think he will want to take me away soon?"

"We will ask him to let you remain with us till the end of the month," Mrs. Dawson said, whilst her husband nodded approval of her suggestion; "it is only the third of March now, so if he agrees, we shall have you with us several weeks longer."

Cousin Robert, when consulted, willingly fell in with this arrangement; but the time passed all too quickly for Mousey, and one day, when the wild March winds were giving place to the milder air of April, came a letter informing the little girl that Cousin Robert was coming himself, with the intention of taking her home with him, and would expect to find her in readiness at the time he mentioned.

THE ARRIVAL AT HAUGHTON

ONE rainy spring afternoon found Mousey seated opposite to her Cousin Robert in a third-class railway compartment on her way to Haughton, which was the name of the town where Mr. Harding lived. Only ten minutes before she had bidden a tearful farewell to Aunt Eliza, who had come to the station to see the last of her, and to wish her God-speed. Now, the little girl sat staring blankly at the newspaper which Mr. Harding held open in front of his face, feeling thankful that he was paying no attention to her, so that he did not see the tears she was struggling to suppress.

Mousey held a bunch of spring flowers--Uncle Dick's farewell offering-- which scented the carriage with the perfumes of narcissi and hyacinths; and in her pocket was a packet of sweets, which her cousins had given her with strict injunctions to eat them all herself.

Presently Mr. Harding peeped at his companion over the top of his newspaper. Mousey was conscious that his sharp eyes glanced at her keenly for a moment before they disappeared behind the newspaper again.

"Humph! All alone in the world!" she heard him mutter to himself.

After a while Mousey dried her eyes, and sniffed at her nosegay with an air of appreciation; then she drew the sweets from her pocket, and put one into her mouth: it tasted very good, and she wondered if Mr. Harding would like one also. She hardly cared to disturb him, for he appeared so interested in his newspaper, but it scarcely seemed good manners not to offer him a share of her cousins' present; so she touched him lightly on the knee, whereupon he put down the newspaper, and looked at her inquiringly.

"Will you have a sweet, Cousin Robert?" she asked timidly, shy blushes rising to her face.

"No, thank you," he answered; "I don't care for sweets."

"These are very nice. Do have one!"

He shook his head, a smile softening the hard lines of his withered countenance and twinkling in his eyes.

"Eat them yourself," he said; "it's many a long year since I had an appetite for sweetmeats. Did your uncle grow those flowers?"

"Yes," she replied. "Wasn't it good of him to cut them for me? Are we far from Haughton, Cousin Robert?"

"No; we shall soon be there. My place is only about five minutes' walk from the station. You have never been to Haughton?"

"No, never."

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