Arabella | Page 4

She had also eaten less than usual
in the hurry of departure, and felt both hungry and weak. In her present
mood Arabella was convinced that she hated the big city, with its noise
and its jostling crowds, and almost wished herself back in her little attic
room, with the quiet sense of freedom and security which she enjoyed
when the elder people had retired and she was at liberty to dispose of
her time as she saw fit, provided only that she did not burn more than
her allotted piece of candle.
Those few moments of suspense were altogether the most trying of the
day. It seemed as if the door would never be opened. She was sure that
if Mrs. Christie's sister were not there, or should refuse to receive them,
that she must let fall from her tired eyes those tears that were gathering
there, and sit down in utter weariness upon the stairs, powerless to go
farther. So far, however, with the self-control which adverse
circumstances had engendered, she had given no outward nor visible
sign of her inward discomposure.
Her companion was disturbed by no such apprehensions. She knew that
she had the number and the street right, having copied them from her
relative's own letter, and she knew her sister. Her only fear pointed to
the chance that the latter might have been absent, and had not received
the letter announcing their arrival. Her anxiety awakened by this
conjecture, she pounded with still more vigorous knuckles upon the
door. There was no mistake about the quality of the knock. It echoed
and re-echoed within; it resounded down the stairs. At last the two
wayfarers began to hear responsive sounds from within.
In the first place, the mewing of a cat, which sounded precisely as if it
were answering the summons, and caused Arabella to feel like laughing
hysterically. In the second place, the opening of some inner door, a
distinct noise as of frizzling, and lastly a curious sound of shuffling feet
hastily approaching, which caused the girl's heart to beat more quickly
and her pulses almost to throb. She knew not what she was going to
see.
Next instant the door was thrown wide open, and Arabella stared with
all her might at the singular little figure which presented itself upon the

threshold, and the like of which the girl thought she had never seen
before.
As she drew in her breath sharply, however, and stood far back against
the wall, it became apparent to her that their wanderings were over, and
that they were at least secure of a night's lodging and a place to rest
their weary bones. For this is what she saw and heard.

CHAPTER III.
MRS. CHRISTIAN'S SISTER.
Upon the threshold stood the tiniest, the whitest, the quaintest-looking
woman imaginable. Her hair was snow-white, and fastened in a knot at
the top of her head, whence descended, on either side, a bunch of curls.
Her face was of a deadly paleness, enlivened by the gleam of a pair of
bright brown eyes. Her costume was for the moment all of a white,
since a large linen apron, long-sleeved and high-necked, enveloped her
completely. Somehow, the apron and the curls presented an
incongruous appearance. Arabella thought at once of a doll she had
seen at a bazaar, springing on wires.
But the glance of the brown eyes was quick, vivacious, above all kindly;
and Arabella was reassured even before she heard the cordial welcome
uttered in a small, chirping voice, which seemed to proceed as from an
automaton. She flew at her tall sister, who stood stiff, straight and
embarrassed,being quite unaccustomed to demonstrations of any sort.
Yet there was a grim kindliness in her expression such as Arabella had
never perceived there before.
"Well, sister," piped the chirping voice, "it's good to see you again, and
in my own home, too; my tiny, little home. And who's that behind you?
Why, of course, it's Arabella, whom I never have seen, but of whom
I've often heard. Come, Arabella, and give me a kiss."
The girl so addressed, and to whom such an invitation had never before

been extended, did not respond to the invitation, but stood twisting her
fingers and shifting from one foot to the other. The little woman, with a
light, pleasant-sounding laugh, darted at her and kissed her with so
much cheery kindliness that the tears started to Arabella's gray eyes.
From that time forward the two were the best of friends.
"And now come in, both of you. Here I am keeping you both standing,
and I am sure you are tired most to death, and chilled, and famished for
something to eat."
As the travellers crossed that hospitable threshold their nostrils were
met by