Chapter 21 An Unwelcome Surprise
Chapter 21
An Unwelcome Surprise
A few days after her return to her uncle’s, Lucy received letters from home. She went to her room to
read them; Helen saw her kissing them all the way upstairs. She walked thoughtfully to her mother’s room, where she found her busy with Charles, who was trying to convince her to buy a certain horse for his special benefit.
“Lucy has letters from home, Mama,” said Helen
“Is that the reason you look so forlorn?” asked Charles.
“I didn’t know I looked forlorn. I was thinking, however, that it’s not likely Lucy will be contented to spend the summer with us. I long to know what her mother will say about it.”
“I’m afraid we are all getting selfish about Lucy,” said Mrs. Whittier.
“Do you think they miss her at home?”
“Yes, of course they do. But as to the mere work, there’s Rebecca, you know, who is older than Lucy. And then, where there are so many children, they help each other.”
“But they can hardly miss her as much as we will when she leaves us. I do love her so much! And it seems exactly as if I had always known her. If she were my own sister, I could not love her more. Oh, how dreadful it will be when she leaves us! I don’t believe they miss her!” said Helen.
“Oh yes, they do!” cried Charles. “I have been there and know all about it. It was nothing but Lucy, Lucy, from morning until night. Lucy must dress the baby, and Lucy must comb and brush all the heads—all the ten heads! And Lucy must see that the pot boiled, and Lucy must plan all the work for the other girls. In fact, Lucy was everywhere and doing everything at once. I declare, it tires me to think of it! Rebecca was so slow and dull! And Hatty! That Hatty was such a charmer! Romping around and making blunders and looking at herself in the mirror!”
“Oh, Charles!”
“It’s true, every word; you can ask Father!”
Helen sighed. “I think it will break my heart if she leaves us,” she said.
“Break your heart! Oh, Helen! What a face. I wish I could catch that expression, frame it, and hang it on the wall,” cried Charles.
“What expression?” asked Helen.
“Why, the expression on your face! Look here. This is the way you looked. What a face! As for me, I don’t plan to let Lucy go home at all. There are ten left, and they don’t need her.”
“Mama! I do wish Lucy would never go home!” said Helen. “I do want a sister so very much! And she is so happy here, and you and Papa are so fond of her!”
Her mother smiled and made a faint effort to be prudent, and not to reveal the secret plans they had been making. But it was no use; almost before she knew it, she had said, “Your father is very anxious to keep her with us, and we have written to your uncle about it, but I was not supposed to tell you that.”
Helen’s lively imagination caught her up and ran away with her, as these words fell from her mother’s lips. In a twinkling of an eye, she flew from the council of war held between her own and Lucy’s parents, onward to that time when she and Lucy were grown young women. She and her beloved adopted sister would go hand-in-hand as ministering spirits to the needy, the neglected, and the heavy-laden to the end of their days. She was aroused from her reverie by Lucy’s voice.
“Why, Lucy! You have been crying,” she exclaimed.
“I ought to be ashamed of myself for that,” replied Lucy, trying to smile away her tears. “But I was taken by surprise. Rebecca is getting married.”
“Rebecca!” repeated everyone, in surprise and dismay.
“And must you go to the wedding?” asked Helen.
“Of course she will,” said Charles, observing that Lucy seemed at a loss for an answer. “They can’t get ready for such a great occasion without her.”
“But will you be gone long, dear Lucy?” asked Helen, who dreaded even a short separation from her cousin. Lucy looked down and hesitated.
“If Rebecca leaves home, I’ll be needed there,” she said.
“You don’t mean,” cried Charles, “that you are going to take French leave of us? Just as we had all planned everything so nicely, and were to have you for our own sister! It’s outrageous! Who under the sun wants to marry Rebecca? Why, I thought she was cut out to be a nice little old maid, who would always stay at home and take care of the rest.”
“Oh, Charles!” whispered Helen, “you’re not thinking what you are saying.” And she drew Lucy away, in fear lest he say something more.
“It’s too bad!” cried Charles, the moment they were out of hearing. “Rebecca was meant to be an old maid. She’s ugly and dowdy and fussy, and now she is getting married.” He looked around for his mother’s agreement, but she had vanished. “Ah! I have been talking to the air! Well, who cares! I’ve relieved my mind anyway. And I know what I’ll do. I’ll write to Rebecca, and tell her she has mistaken her vocation; that she’s ugly—no, that won’t work. Nothing provokes a girl like telling her she’s ugly. Well! Maybe Father can do something about it. I’ll just go and find him, and see what he’ll say.”
While Charles consoled himself, Helen and Lucy read the letter that had brought such unexpected news. “Well!” said Lucy at last. “I’ve had a whole year at school with you! A whole happy year. And now I’ll go and take Rebecca’s place in the family, and teach the children and try to make things pleasant for Mother. And, Helen, we’ll write to each other all the time.” Helen ate in gloomy silence and did not reply.
“And we’ll study together,” continued Lucy. “I’ll study just what you do, and that will be so pleasant! Almost as pleasant as if we were near each other.” Helen would not be comforted! She felt as if a great stone lay against her heart. “We’ll read the same books, too,” said Lucy. “And one of these days, when I get old and stiff and good for nothing, I’ll come back to live with you.”
“You won’t have time to read, and you’ll lose all you have learned. Oh, Lucy! I haven’t any sister, and I thought I would have you!”
“I should tell you then, dear Helen, that I could not have been so. I hoped to be able to go somewhere and teach, and help pay to educate my brothers. I’m almost sure they won’t be farmers. It’s too hard of work unless there is a fortune to start with. A wearing, harassing, toilsome life! I felt as if I could not bear to see my brothers follow in poor Father’s footsteps.”
“But if you taught school, you could not earn much.”
“I thought I could help them along, one at a time. But it was not to be. I had planned wrong.”
“Rebecca is very young to go and get married, said Helen dolefully.
“She won’t be married until October. Then she’ll be nearly twenty. She doesn’t seem that old because she has been sick a lot. But I always thought John Wright would be carrying her off as soon as he could. Now I’ll be the old maid of the family, and you’ll see what a nice, plump little one I’ll be!”
Notwithstanding the playful tone in which Lucy spoke, Helen observed that her voice trembled. Looking up hastily, she perceived that the hopeful, cheerful manner was only feigned and that she was in real distress. Instantly forgetting her own grief, which now struck her as truly selfish, Helen tried by the tenderest expressions of sympathy to comfort and cheer Lucy.
“I’ll come and pay you a long visit, whenever Mama will allow,” she said. “Then I can take you all the new books, and we’ll read them together. And who knows but all will come right again!”
“All is right, now,” said Lucy, shaking off her depression and smiling once more like herself. “No one in this world can know what a disappointment this is for me, but I’m sure it’s right and for the best!”
Her aunt came in and kissed her tenderly. “Oh, Mama! You have been crying, too!” cried Helen. “I couldn’t imagine what made you run away and leave us so suddenly.”
“You must not decide to leave us until you have talked with your uncle, my dear Lucy,” said her aunt. “I assure you that to lose you now will be the hardest trial we’ve ever had.”
“What have I done, that they love me so?” thought Lucy. She felt grateful and humble, and that her lot was far from being one of unmixed trial and sorrow.
“Oh, here’s Papa!” cried Helen. Let’s see what he says!”
“He says it won’t do!” shouted Charles from the foot of the stairs.
“Why Lucy!” said her uncle, “What is all this? Rebecca’s getting married; you’re going to leave us? What have the two things to do with each other? You know you were to stay with us two years, at least; and you have been here a little more than one. But set your hearts at rest, all of you. I’ll write to Robert and you will find he has no thought of taking Lucy home.”
“But Uncle,” said Lucy, “when Rebecca is gone, I’ll be needed at home. Mother’s health has been feeble for many years, and I know she has had a great deal of care thrown on her by my absence. Hatty is so young—”
“Is such a charmer you mean,” interrupted Charles “Hatty is so young and spirited, and hates to take care of children.”
“Well then, let the next one do that,” said her uncle.
“Why he is a boy!” said Lucy.
“Well, the next, then,” he said.
“Oh, he is a boy, too! They are all boys after Hatty. And real boys, too,” she added, laughing.
“I give you up then, Lucy,” he said sadly. “May God go with and bless you!”
“Why Father! Didn’t you see them all when you were there?” asked Helen.
“Yes, I suppose I did; but I didn’t particularly notice whether they were boys or girls—why would I? But now, it seems it’s quite an important question.”
“Mama!” cried Helen, suddenly growing cheerful again, “Lucy’s mother will not let her stay at home! She will certainly send her back to us again. Mothers are never selfish, you know!”
With this consolatory thought, Helen sustained herself. She could not see those seven boys who were like assorted needles: one of every size, from “ones,” upward. She could not see the fourteen socks that every week a mother or a sister must mend, nor the jackets torn at the elbow, nor the trousers torn at the knees. She could not conceive how often some of those little faces needed washing, how much time it required every night to undress and get them safely to bed. She didn’t understand the time it took to dress these miniature men and get them safely on their feet every morning. Already by their helplessness and awkwardness, these boys proclaimed that they were not born to perform those works of indoor life which fall on the sisters, mothers, and wives. But Lucy saw all these things and more; and her heart turned itself homeward, resolutely and cheerfully.