旧式女孩 英文版 An Old-fashioned Girl
露意莎.梅.奥尔科特 Louisa May Alcott
CHAPTER XV BREAKERS AHEAD Page 2
But Maud clapped hers, and gave a joyful bounce, as she cried,"Now I can learn to cook! I love so to beat eggs! I 'll have anapron, with a bib to it, like Polly's, and a feather duster, and sweepthe stairs, maybe, with my head tied up, like Katy. Oh, what fun!"
"Don't laugh at her, or discourage her; let her find comfort in bibsand dust-pans, if she can," whispered Polly to Fan, while Maudtook a joyful "header" among the pillows, and came up smilingand blowzy, for she loved house-work, and often got lectured forstolen visits to the kitchen, and surreptitious sweepings anddustings when the coast was clear.
"Mamma is so feeble, I shall have to keep house, I suppose, andyou must show me how, Polly," said Fan.
"Good practice, ma'am, as you 'll find out some day," answeredPolly, laughing significantly.
Fanny smiled, then grew both grave and sad. "This changeseverything; the old set will drop me, as we did the Mertons whentheir father failed, and my 'prospects,' as we say, are quite ruined."
"I don't believe it; your real friends won't drop you, and you 'll findout which the true ones are now. I know one friend who will bekinder than ever."
"Oh, Polly, do you think so?" and Fanny's eyes softened withsudden tears.
"I know who she means," cried Maud, always eager to find outthings. "It 's herself; Polly won't mind if we are poor, 'cause shelikes beggars."
"Is that who you meant?" asked Fan, wistfully.
"No, it 's a much better and dearer friend than I am," said Polly,pinching Fanny's cheek, as it reddened prettily under her eyes."You 'll never guess, Maud, so I would n't try, but be planning whatyou will put in your cunning, three-cornered closet, when you getit."
Having got rid of "Miss Paulina Pry," as Tom called Maud, whowas immediately absorbed by her cupboard, the older girls soberlydiscussed the sudden change which had come, and Polly wassurprised to see what unexpected strength and sense Fannyshowed. Polly was too unconscious of the change which love hadmade in herself to understand at first the cause of her friend's newpatience and fortitude; but she rejoiced over it, and felt that herprophecy would yet be fulfilled. Presently Maud emerged from hernew closet, bringing a somewhat startling idea with her.
"Do bankrupting men" (Maud liked that new word) "always havefits?"
"Mercy, no! What put that into your head, child?" cried Polly.
"Why, Mr. Merton did; and I was thinking perhaps papa had gotone down there, and it kind of frightened me."
"Mr. Merton's was a bad, disgraceful failure, and I don't wonder hehad a fit. Ours is n't, and papa won't do anything of that sort, youmay be sure," said Fanny, with as proud an air as if "our failure"was rather an honor than otherwise.
"Don't you think you and Maud had better go down and see him?"asked Polly.
"Perhaps he would n't like it; and I don't know what to say, either,"began Fan; but Polly said, eagerly, "I know he would like it. Nevermind what you say; just go, and show him that you don't doubt orblame him for this, but love him all the more, and are ready andglad to help him bear the trouble."
"I 'm going, I ain't afraid; I 'll just hug him, and say I 'm ever soglad we are going to the little house," cried Maud, scrambling offthe bed, and running down stairs.
"Come with me, Polly, and tell me what to do," said Fanny,drawing her friend after her.
"You 'll know what to do when you see him, better than I can tellyou," answered Polly, readily yielding, for she knew theyconsidered her "quite one of the family," as Tom said.
At the study door they found Maud, whose courage had given out,for Mr. Merton's fit rather haunted her. Polly opened the door; andthe minute Fanny saw her father, she did know what to do. The firewas low, the gas dim, and Mr. Shaw was sitting in his easy-chair,his gray head in both his hands, looking lonely, old, and boweddown with care. Fanny gave Polly one look, then went and took thegray head in both her arms, saying, with a tender quiver in hervoice, "Father dear, we 've come to help you bear it"
Mr. Shaw looked up, and seeing in his daughter's face somethingthat never had been there before, put his arm about her, and leanedhis tired head against her, as if, when least expected, he had foundthe consolation he most needed. In that minute, Fanny felt, withmingled joy and self-reproach, what a daughter might be to herfather; and Polly, thinking of feeble, selfish Mrs. Shaw, asleep upstairs, saw with sudden clearness what a wife should be to herhusband, a helpmeet, not a burden. Touched by these unusualdemonstrations, Maud crept quietly to her father's knee, andwhispered, with a great tear shining on her little pug nose, "Papa,we don't mind it much, and I 'm going to help Fan keep house foryou; I 'd like to do it, truly."
Mr. Shaw's other arm went round the child, and for a minute noone said anything, for Polly had slipped behind his chair, thatnothing should disturb the three, who were learning frommisfortune how much they loved one another. Presently Mr. Shawsteadied himself and asked, "Where is my other daughter, where 'smy Polly?"
She was there at once; gave him one of the quiet kisses that hadmore than usual tenderness in it, for she loved to hear him say "myother daughter," and then she whispered, "Don't you want Tom,too?"
"Of course I do; where is the poor fellow?"
"I 'll bring him;" and Polly departed with most obliging alacrity.
But in the hall she paused a minute to peep into the glass and see ifshe was all right, for somehow she was more anxious to look neatand pretty to Tom in his hour of trouble than she had ever been inhis prosperous days. In lifting her arms to perk up the bow at herthroat she knocked a hat off the bracket. Now, a shiny blackbeaver is not an object exactly calculated to inspire tender orromantic sentiments, one would fancy, but that particular "stovepipe" seemed to touch Polly to the heart, for she caught it up, as ifits fall suggested a greater one, smoothed out a slight dint, as if itwas symbolical of the hard knocks its owner's head was now indanger of receiving, and stood looking at it with as much pity andrespect, as if it had been the crown of a disinherited prince. Girlswill do such foolish little things, and though we laugh at them, Ithink we like them the better for it, after all.
Richard was himself again when Polly entered, for thehandkerchief had disappeared, his head was erect, his face wassteady, and his whole air had a dogged composure which seemedto say to fate, "Hit away, I 'm ready." He did not hear Polly comein, for he was looking fixedly at the fire with eyes that evidentlysaw a very different future there from that which it used to showhim; but when she said, "Tom, dear, your father wants you," he gotup at once, held out his hand to her, saying, "Come too, we can'tget on without you," and took her back into the study with him.
Then they had a long talk, for the family troubles seemed to warmand strengthen the family affection and confidence, and as theyoung people listened while Mr. Shaw told them as much of hisbusiness perplexities as they could understand, every one of themblamed him or herself for going on so gayly and blindly, while thestorm was gathering, and the poor man was left to meet it allalone. Now, however, the thunder-clap had come, and after thefirst alarm, finding they were not killed, they began to discover acertain half-anxious, half-pleasant excitement in talking it over,encouraging one another, and feeling unusually friendly, as peopledo when a sudden shower drives two or three to the shelter of oneumbrella.
It was a sober talk, but not all sad, for Mr. Shaw felt inexpressiblycomforted by his children's unexpected sympathy, and they, tryingto take the downfall cheerfully for his sake, found it easier to bearthemselves. They even laughed occasionally, for the girls, in theirignorance, asked queer questions; Tom made ludicrouslyunbusiness-like propositions; and Maud gave them one heartypeal, that did a world of good, by pensively remarking, when theplans for the future had been explained to her, "I 'm so relieved;for when papa said we must give up everything, and mammacalled us all beggars, I did think I 'd got to go round asking for coldvittles, with a big basket, and an old shawl over my head. I saidonce I 'd like that, but I 'm afraid I should n't, for I can't bear Indiancake and cold potatoes, that 's what the poor children always seemto get, and I should hate to have Grace and the rest see me scuffinground the back gates."
"My little girl shall never come to that, if I can help it," said Mr.Shaw, holding her close, with a look that made Maud add, as shelaid her cheek against his own, "But I 'd do it, father, if you askedme to, for I truly want to help."
"So do I!" cried Fanny, wondering at the same minute how itwould seem to wear turned silks, and clean her gloves.
Tom said nothing, but drew toward him a paper of figures whichhis father had drawn up, and speedily reduced himself to the vergeof distraction by trying to understand them, in his ardent desire toprove his willingness to put his shoulder to the wheel.
"We shall pull through, children, so don't borrow trouble, only beready for discomforts and annoyances. Put your pride in yourpockets, and remember poverty is n't disgraceful, but dishonestyis."
Polly had always loved kind Mr. Shaw, but now she respected himheartily, and felt that she had not done him justice when shesometimes thought that he only cared for making money.
"I should n't wonder if this was a good thing for the whole family,though it don't look so. Mrs. Shaw will take it the hardest, but itmay stir her up, so she will forget her nerves, and be as busy andhappy as mother is," said Polly to herself, in a hopeful mood, forpoverty was an old friend, and she had learned long ago not to fearit, but to take its bitter and its sweet, and make the best of both.
When they parted for the night, Polly slipped away first, to leavethem free, yet could n't help lingering outside to see how tenderlythe girls parted from their father. Tom had n't a word to say forhimself, for men don't kiss, caress, or cry when they feel most, andall he could do to express his sympathy and penitence, was towring his father's hand with a face full of respect, regret, andaffection, and then bolt up stairs as if the furies were after him, asthey were, in a mild and modern form.