A Dear Little Girl

"We'll have to see about it," was all Uncle Justus said, but it was quite enough for Edna to know he meant to put in a word for her. And indeed that very evening Aunt Elizabeth remarked, "Edna, if you study your lessons faithfully for the rest of the week you may go to the fair with me on Friday evening, as there will be no school the next day."

Edna clasped her hands and shot a pleased look at Uncle Justus, who looked at her over the top of his spectacles. "O!" she exclaimed, "I am so rejoiceful."

Even Aunt Elizabeth smiled at that, and it is needless to say that the lessons were given unusual attention for the next few days.

But, alas! when Friday afternoon came Aunt Elizabeth was laid up with an attack of neuralgia, and there was no hope of her getting to the fair that evening.

Such a disappointed little girl never was – the great tear-drops splashed down her cheeks as she heard the decision and fled to her room. "O, dear! O, dear!" she said, "I don't see why it had to be Friday. Why didn't Aunt Elizabeth wait just one more day?" Something poor Aunt Elizabeth would have been ready enough to do if possible. It did seem to Edna as if she could not stand it, and she went down to supper with very red eyes. Louis tried to comfort her and promised to play buttons with her that evening, a specially favorite amusement of the little girl when Aunt Elizabeth allowed her button bag to be used, and all sorts of plays were invented by using the buttons. But even this prospect had lost its charm. "I wish I were a man," exclaimed Louis, suddenly, "I'd take you."

Uncle Justus looked up quizzically. "No, you wouldn't, my young sir," he replied; "for I expect to give myself the pleasure of taking Edna to the fair this evening."

Down went Edna's knife and fork, and, in defiance of all the set rules of the house, she jumped up from her seat and actually hugged Uncle Justus. She probably would not have done so if Aunt Elizabeth had been present, but that restraining presence removed, the children both felt a little less timid.

It did not take Edna long to get ready, and such a rosy, beaming face as appeared at the door of the sitting-room must have given Uncle Justus a feeling of satisfaction that he had sacrificed his comfort for that one evening, for the old gentleman did not at all enjoy going to fairs, and would have preferred to spend the evening over his papers and magazines at his own fireside.

The fair rooms truly did present a dazzling scene to the little girl, and she was enjoying it all hugely when her uncle declared himself tired and told her to run about a little while and come back to him when she had seen everything.

She had not gone farther than the second booth when her attention was caught by a beautiful large doll which bore a card saying that to the little girl who should receive the largest number of votes would the doll be given.

"What do you think of it?" asked some one, as the child stood absorbed in gazing at the lovely creature before her. Edna looked up; at her side stood the minister of the church to which she went every Sunday with her aunt and uncle.

"I think it is perfectly lovely; but what does that mean?" exclaimed she.

"What, the card? It means that a wealthy gentleman bought the doll, and, having no little girl of his own to give it to, thought this would be a nice way to dispose of it. The friends of some little girls will vote for them, and the one who has the greatest number of votes will get the doll. Now, I suspect you wish very much that you could be the fortunate little girl."

"Yes, I do," replied Edna, candidly; "only I haven't very many friends, 'cause I don't live here. I am spending the winter with Uncle and Aunt Horner."

"O, yes, you are Professor Horner's little niece; now, let me see, perhaps you have more friends here than you imagine. Suppose I were to try to get some votes for you; shall I?"

Edna was about to speak, when a sudden thought came into her mind. For a moment a hard struggle went on. She did love dolls, but she had several, and she stood looking soberly at the one before her while the minister watched her.

"What is it, little one?" he asked, gently. Edna looked up wistfully, the color coming and going in her face.

"I was thinking" – she said, "O! won't you please get the votes for Maggie Horn instead of me? I don't believe Maggie ever had a doll in her life, and I have so many."

"And don't you want this one?"

Edna was silent, but her candor always prevailed. "O yes, but Maggie would be so perfectly wild over it, and you see she's one of the little Friendlesses, and this is her fair, so she ought to have it," she said in a moment.

"Then," returned the minister, "I will try to get a great many votes for her. And your name is – "

"Edna Conway. I must go back to Uncle Justus now."

The minister took her by the hand and piloted her through the crowd. "Can you spare me your little girl a while longer, Professor?" he asked.

Uncle Justus gave a willing consent, and when Edna had eaten a plate of ice cream, had heard the music, had seen the lemonade well, lighted up with electric lights, and had looked at pretty things till she was tired, her friend took her back to Uncle Justus.

But that gentleman sent her to pick out a cornucopia from Aunt Elizabeth's table, and she was made happy by the possession of the one which she had always especially admired; it was shiny white with little bunches of flowers over it, and the picture of a dear little girl on it.

Her uncle and the minister were in earnest conversation when she returned to them, and the minister's parting words were:

"Good-night, my child; we must have you here to-morrow evening to hear who gets the doll."

Edna was so tired that she nearly fell asleep on the way home, but she felt quite wide-awake when they reached there, and was very much surprised when Uncle Justus bent down and kissed her good-night. He had never done this before, and although pleased at the act, Edna wondered why he did it, and she went up stairs also wondering who would get that lovely doll.

Chapter VII

WHERE THE DOLL WENT

Edna awoke, still wondering. Of course she realized that there was no hope of her going to the fair again that evening, for she had been up until ten o'clock the night before, and besides Aunt Elizabeth would not be well enough to go out into the night air, and Uncle Justus could not be expected to give up his warm corner and his easy chair a second time. So Edna contented herself with dwelling upon the delights of the evening before, and wrote a long account of it to sister. Writing to her sister or her parents was one of her regular Saturday employments. The letters were always strictly scrutinized by Aunt Elizabeth, and sometimes had to be written all over again.

Edna had just finished her letter when Ellen called her.

"Come, dear; there's a lady to see you in the parlor."

"Who can it be? O, maybe it is Miss Atkins, my Sunday-school teacher!"

"Shure, thin, it's not," replied Ellen; "but you're to hurry."

"This is Miss Martin," said Aunt Elizabeth, as Edna entered the room. "Come and speak to her."

"You know who I am, don't you?" said Miss Martin, drawing the little girl to her side.

Edna did know.

"You are our minister's daughter," she replied.

"Yes; and my father wants you to come and take tea with us and go to the fair afterward to find out about that wonderful doll. You know this is the last evening, and the votes are to be counted."

Edna looked quickly at Aunt Elizabeth. Would she let her go? But it was evident that Miss Martin's invitation was not to be set aside like that of an ordinary person, and Edna was made happy by hearing her aunt say:

"Mr. Martin is very kind. My niece should feel very much favored. You may go and get ready, Edna. Miss Martin is good enough to say that she will wait for you."

Edna scampered up stairs as fast as she could go, then she flew down to the kitchen to ask Ellen's help.

The good-humored maid was as pleased as possible over the pleasure promised her favorite, and she made ready the little girl with all the speed necessary.

"My father and I will bring Edna home ourselves," said Miss Martin. "I am so sorry, Mrs. Horner, that your neuralgia must keep you at home; but we hope this evening to bring you full reports of our success."

Mr. Martin came out of his study to greet Edna, and made her feel at home at once by telling her a funny story about the big dog which stalked through the hall and sniffed at the little visitor in a way which, at first, rather scared her, but she soon found he meant to make friends with her, so she was quite content to sit with his big head in her lap and his soft brown eyes looking up at her while Mr. Martin asked about her own pets which she had left at home.

It seemed very queer to sit there and see where those wise sermons were made which the minister preached from the pulpit every Sunday, to find out that Mr. Martin was as full of fun as anyone, and that his daughter did not stand in awe of him, but that she teased him at supper for his fondness for hot buttered cakes.

I shall like to go to church very much next Sunday, thought Edna, because I know Mr. Martin, and have seen just how it looks here when he is writing his sermons.

When supper was over no time was lost in starting for the fair.

"We must make hay while the sun shines," said Mr. Martin, "and try if we can add to the votes we already have."

"O!" exclaimed Edna, "have you a great many Mr. Martin? Is there any chance of Maggie's getting the doll?"

Mr. Martin smiled.

"That is telling," he replied. "But you will know pretty soon."

It was very exciting to be present this last evening of the fair, for everyone was anxious to make the most of it, and Edna thought it great fun to watch the auctioneer who was selling off some of the larger articles. She was intensely interested when Mr. Martin began bidding on a set of books, and was quite as triumphant as he was when they were knocked down to him.

But all other interests fell flat when some one came up and said:

"Mr. Martin, they are going to count the votes for the doll."

Edna's eyes grew big, and she could scarcely sit still from anxiety. She kept craning her neck to see if anyone were coming from the direction of that special booth. Finally she was rewarded by seeing the doll delivered into the hands of a gentleman who made his way toward the platform.

There was another little girl who was quite as eager as herself. Edna had often seen her in church, and knew she was the daughter of wealthy parents. She wore very pretty, dainty clothes, and Edna found her eyes very often wandering in the direction of this little girl during service; but the object of her admiration once turned and made a face at Edna, which proceeding shocked her very much. "I wouldn't do that in church," she said to herself. "I don't care if she is rich and comes in that shining carriage; she is not a nice little girl. I like Maggie Horn much better."

Therefore it was a very thrilling moment when the gentleman holding the doll mounted the stand, and said, "I have here a very popular young lady. She comes from Mrs. Tuttle's booth, and has received so many votes that she must be quite anxious herself as to her future." Then reading from a paper, he said, "I will only announce the two candidates who have received the greatest number of votes: Clara Adams, one hundred and twenty-seven; Edna Conway – " the little girl's heart stood still, and she clasped Miss Martin's hand convulsively, while she looked at her with something like reproach – "in behalf of Maggie Horn," continued the gentleman, "three hundred and one votes." There was silence a moment. "I want to say," the gentleman went on, "that the little girl – whose representative I hope is here – is one of the inmates of the Home of the Friendless, rescued from a pitifully unhappy life by Edna Conway, who has also been the means of procuring for the little girl, no longer friendless, this beautiful doll. Will Miss Edna Conway please come forward?"

Growing red and white by turns; glad, fearful, ashamed, all at once, Edna went to the platform amid tremendous applause. Every eye was turned upon her, and she felt in this conspicuous position as if she should sink through the floor. Into her hands the lovely doll was given, and then the gentleman detained her by saying, "One moment, my dear. The ladies of the fair want you to accept this little basket of flowers, with their love;" and a basket of exquisite roses was handed down.

Edna hardly knew how she got back to Miss Martin's side, but when she did reach there the doll was laid upon the bench, the flowers were handed to Mr. Martin, and the little child hid her face on her friend's shoulder, overcome by the situation.

"We'd better go now," said Miss Martin, in a low voice, as she saw a body of girls ready to pounce upon Edna with hugs and kisses. "I am sure Mrs. Horner would not like this fuss over her niece," she continued to her father. And Edna was quite ready to leave, not liking herself to be fussed over.

Miss Martin and her father only stopped to see their little charge safe in the hands of her aunt and uncle, and with many thanks, Edna bade them a fervent good-night. In her delight she entered the sitting-room, forgetting to be a little girl that should "be seen and not heard."

"O, Uncle Justus!" she cried. "See! see! the doll for Maggie; and look at my flowers! Look, auntie!"

"Not so loud, child," reproved Aunt Elizabeth.

"Let me see. Yes, the doll is very pretty; and where did you get your flowers?"

"Why," returned Edna, innocently, "the man said that the ladies of the fair gave them to me with their love, and I don't know why, for I didn't get a single vote but yours and Uncle Justus's."

Aunt Elizabeth smiled, but she did not explain. "Well, child," she said, "it was very kind of the ladies to pay the compliment to Mr. Martin's little guest."

"O, yes," replied Edna, "of course it was, and he liked it, too. I wish I had given him and Miss Martin more of the roses."

"You had better put them in water, or they will all fade," said Aunt Elizabeth; "I have no doubt the ladies will remember Mr. Martin. Now go to bed, and try to get up when you are called so as to be ready for Sunday-school."

"O, Aunt Elizabeth, just please tell me when I can take Maggie her doll."

"I am afraid I shall not be able to go with you on Monday, for I have a meeting in the afternoon," answered Aunt Elizabeth.

"Couldn't you find your way alone?" asked Uncle Justus.

"I think perhaps I could," replied Edna, a little doubtfully, "but I am not very good at finding my way about. Papa says my bump of locality was left out. I don't know what that means, but he said so."

"Perhaps if I put you on the cars and tell the conductor to let you out at Pearl Street you could find your way," said Uncle Justus.

"And what about the getting back?" put in Aunt Elizabeth. "I think Edna will have to wait."

But here again Miss Martin came to her aid, for the next morning after Sunday-school she made her way over to where Edna was standing waiting for Louis, and asked her about the matter.

"I can't go till Tuesday," Edna told her, "for Aunt Elizabeth hasn't time to take me, and I do so want Maggie to have her doll. Won't she be s'prised. Miss Martin? I am just crazy to take it to her."

"Let me see," returned Miss Martin, thoughtfully. "If your aunt will allow you to go, perhaps I can take you. How would that do? I will see Mrs. Horner after church, and we'll try and arrange it."

And so it was settled that Edna should go with Miss Martin to the Home the next afternoon. In the meantime it was a great temptation to have the pretty doll so near and not resist the temptation of being a little envious of it. Many a peep was taken at the fine lady laid away in state in one of Edna's bureau drawers; but the child was honorable enough not to run the risk of spoiling the freshness of her attire by taking her out of her place.

"I think you were a goose not to try for the doll yourself," said Louis.

"O, Louis!" replied Edna. "I never could have had all those votes, and besides I have Moggins, so you see I ought to make up to Maggie for that."

"Well, that's so," replied Louis. "Anyhow I am glad that that stuck-up Clara Adams did not get her."

Edna was thoughtful. "So am I," she confessed. "But," she added, "I heard Miss Martin say, 'Poor Clara Adams, I'm very sorry for that child.'"

"Poor!" exclaimed Louis. "I don't know where you get your rich people from if she's poor. I reckon Miss Martin doesn't know what she's talking about."

"I'm going to ask her," declared Edna. And true to her word she did ask, that very afternoon, "What made you say, 'Poor Clara Adams,' Miss Martin?"

"Did I say that? Well, dear, she is a very poor little girl; with all her rich clothes and her ornaments there is one ornament which I am afraid she will never be able to wear."

Edna opened her eyes. "What is it, Miss Martin?" she asked, wondering if Clara were in any way deformed so she could not wear rings.

Miss Martin smiled. "Did you never hear about the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit?" she said.

"O," returned Edna, only half understanding.

"Clara is a restless, discontented, envious little girl," continued Miss Martin; "and although her mother and father come to church every Sunday, and give liberally to charities, their little girl is not taught to find happiness by thinking of others rather than of herself, and so that poor little self of hers often feels as much neglected as Maggie Horn ever did."

"But Clara isn't neglected," interposed Edna.

"She thinks she is, unless some one is paying attention to her all the time. She wants to be noticed and considered and amused from morning till night, and feels slighted at being set aside for a single instant. So you see she is a little girl to be pitied. 'Contentment is better than wealth,' says the old proverb."

That was a new way to look at Clara Adams, Edna reflected; but she had not time then to think much of the matter, for by this time they had reached the Home where Maggie was.

This was not visitors' day, but a note from Mrs. Horner to Miss Barnes gave Edna special permission to see Maggie. She came into the room looking very clean and neat in her blue dress and gingham apron. Her face brightened as she caught sight of Edna.

"Why," she exclaimed, "how did you happen to come to-day? How is Moggins? I hope he doesn't bother your aunt."

"Moggins is as fat as butter," answered Edna, "and I came – O, Maggie – I came to bring you this," and she thrust the doll into the little girl's arms.

Maggie looked from the doll to Edna and back again, perfectly bewildered. "Why, why," she said, "not for me! You don't mean for me!"

Edna nodded, "Yes," most decidedly. "It's for you, and came from the fair. O, so many people voted for her – three hundred. Isn't she sweet?"

"O! O!" cried Maggie, "I never had nothin' like this. I never expected nothin' like it. I feel like it was Christmas, an' I was a-dreamin, an' it was a story book all to once. Da'st I kiss you?"

"Why, of course," replied Edna, heartily, and she threw her arms around the little girl and gave her a fervent embrace. Then followed a close examination of the dolly's pretty clothes by both little girls, till Miss Martin came in accompanied by Miss Barnes, who said she was sorry to take Maggie away, but that it was study hour; and the children separated, one about as happy as the other.

Then Edna and her friend turned toward home, where a new surprise was awaiting.

Chapter VIII

A PECK OF TROUBLE

"Where is uncle?" was Edna's first question when she reached home.

"Listen to the dear," replied Ellen. "She doesn't know that the two of them has gone away suddint."

"Why, where?" asked Edna, in astonishment.

"To Mr. Horner's sisther's, darlin'; wurred came by the bhy from the telegraph office thot the poor leddy's tur'ble low, and would they come right away? So the madam t'rows a bit o' their clothes intil a bag, an' says she, 'Ellen, we'll be back the mornin; ye must look out for the childer.'"

"O," cried Edna, "then we can eat supper in the kitchen; and you'll let me pour out, won't you?"

"Will I thin? av coorse I will, an' I'll make ye a bit o' short cake."

"O, that will be fine," replied Edna, "I'm going up stairs to take off my wraps, and then I'm coming down into the kitchen."

"Moind ye change yer dhress," called Ellen; "an' put on an apron, so ye'll not get yer clothes hurted."

Edna was down again in a twinkling, the cause of the sudden departure of her uncle and aunt lost sight of in this "happening" of a cosy time.

There was something particularly cheery and comfortable about the clean kitchen. Louis was already there playing with Moggins; the little kitty was whisking around after a string, his prancings and sidewise jumps making the children laugh merrily. Edna left this play to make a little short cake from some dough which Ellen gave her. She baked it on top of the stove, and, although it was neither very clean nor well baked, and was rather ragged looking, it was heartily enjoyed by the children and Moggins, who was a little cat ready to taste anything offered to him.

Edna poured out the cambric tea and mixed it with great gravity, giving Louis plenty of sugar in his, while the amount of short cake and syrup indulged in would have been considered shocking by Aunt Elizabeth. But the children had never so enjoyed a meal in that house.

Edna's doll, Ada, occupied a place at the table, being mounted upon a firkin placed upon a chair, and as Edna had to eat both her own and her doll's share of the short cake it was no wonder that the supply was more than she could manage.

Louis took Moggins under his care, but Moggins, it must be confessed, did not behave so well as Ada, for he slyly whipped off with his paw pieces of food from Louis' fork, and began lapping the cambric tea from his neighbor's cup, so finally he was sent from the table, a disgrace which did not affect him in the least, as it gave him a chance to scamper around after his tail, and race about without restraint.

"O, Louis," said Edna, when bedtime came, "aren't you afraid to sleep down here alone?"

Louis flushed up. "What did you say that for?" he replied. "I wasn't going to think about it, and now you've made me. I'm not exactly afraid, but it is a long way up to you and Ellen if anything should happen."

Ellen stood thoughtfully considering the question, one hand on her hip, and the other stroking her puckered-up lips. "Thrue for ye," she said. "I promised the mistress to hev an eye on ye, an' how can an eye pinitrate through the two flures? I'll bring a cot down for mesilf to your aunt's room, an' Edna shall sleep in the big bed, whilst I take the cot, so we'll all be commojus and neighborlylike."

There was much fun and laughter getting the cot down stairs, and Edna thought it a great experience to sleep in her aunt's big bed, while Louis was very glad not to be so far removed from the others, although he professed great indifference upon the subject after his first confession.

The next morning the school children began to gather. Nine o'clock came and no teacher, for, strange to say, even Miss Ashurst did not make her appearance. A note from her did arrive, but as it was addressed to Professor Horner no one opened it, and the cause of her absence was not explained.

"O, fun!" cried one of the girls. "No school to-day. We'll have a holiday."

"We'd better wait a little while," said Agnes Evans, who was the eldest as well as the brightest pupil in the school. "Professor and Mrs. Horner may come in any minute; we'll wait till ten o'clock. Come here, little sobersides," she said to Edna. "What are you so solemn about? What word did your aunt and uncle leave?"

"They left word that they would be back this morning," replied Edna. "Of course they supposed Miss Ashurst would be here, and that she would be able to get along till they came. Don't you think – " and Edna looked up hesitatingly.

"What, monkey dear?" said Agnes, passing her arm around the child. "Out with it."

"Don't you think we might have school just the same if you big girls were to take the teachers' places? Don't you think we ought to try to do the best we can?"