Five Happy Weeks | Page 8

face, and a very torn dress.
"Do look at that impertinent creature actually staring at us, as if she
belonged here!" exclaimed Victorine, with amazement.
"Go right away, child," said Wilhelmine.
Now as these little girls were guests themselves, they were taking too
much responsibility in ordering anybody off. Edith's face flushed, and
she felt vexed. She would have preferred, after all her Aunt Maria had
said about it, to have the Alley children keep a little more distance; but
she could not let anybody hurt their feelings.
"That little girl is a friend of mine, Wilhelmine," spoke out the loyal
little soul bravely. It was not in Edith, to be ashamed of any friend, no

matter how humble.
Wilhelmine looked surprised, and Johnnie went on to tell how they had
gotten acquainted. Before he had finished, the little visitors were so
interested in the ragged girl, that they each gave her a bright five-cent
piece.
So Edith did good by her fearlessness. We never know how much good
we may do, by speaking according to our conscience.
The Featherfew girls had a very nice time, and went away well pleased;
but they told their mamma that the Evans children were very droll.
"It's the way they have been brought up, I imagine," said Mrs.
Featherfew.
Two or three days after that, the children were in a part of the garden,
in which was a bridge over a darling little brook, as Edith called it.
They were expecting their parents by the first steamer, and Johnnie had
been gathering a basket of the ripest and reddest cherries he could find,
to have them all ready for offering to mamma on her arrival. As he was
running lightly over the bridge, his foot slipped, and he came near
falling in, but Edith and Mabel flew to the rescue, and held him up by
his cap, and his curls, and his arm, till he recovered his balance. One
foot was very wet. It had gone "way, way in," and in that condition,
splashed and barefoot, for he pulled off the wet boot and stocking, he
went back to the house with the girls.
Just as they reached the front door, a carriage drove up. A gentleman
sprang out, and lifted a lady next, and the servants began to take off the
bags and trunks. Could that be mamma? It needed only a glance to
satisfy the eager children, and in a moment all three were rapturously
hugging and kissing her and their father.
[Illustration]
Mamma had grown quite plump and rosy. She was ever so much better,
and Johnnie asked, the first thing, whether she could bear a noise now.

"A little noise, dear, I hope," she said smiling. It had been a great trial
to Johnnie to keep so still as had been necessary when they were at
home.
"She is not so very strong yet, Master John," said Mr. Evans. "I'm
afraid an earthquake or a volcano would use her up. We'll have to take
care of her yet awhile."
But the children found that they had gotten their old mamma back. She
was a great deal nicer than anybody else, they thought.
That night, when it grew almost bedtime, and Chloe appeared as usual
at the parlor door, with the candles on a silver tray, and the great silver
snuffers, ready to light the young folks up stairs, they went and kissed
their father and mother and Aunt Maria for good night. But when they
were undressed, and the little dresses and skirts were hung smoothly
over the chairs, the little shoes and stockings set side by side on the
floor, and the little nightgowns on, somebody came quietly in,
somebody who sat down in the rocking-chair, and with one little
white-robed figure in her lap, and another with an arm thrown around
her neck, and another on a footstool at her feet, heard their hymns, and
told them a little story, and listened while each prayed to the dear
Saviour. The three little hearts were satisfied that night, because they
had had their mother to comfort them and bless them again.
A few days after that, they bade good-by to the beautiful seaside home,
and to Luce, and the black cat, and the horses and cow, the geese and
the chickens. To Miss Rose and Aunt Maria they gave a very warm
invitation to come and see them in their own home.
Fido and Queenie had been well taken care of at Aunt Catharine's
house, but they seemed very glad indeed to have their little mistress
back. Johnnie declared that Fido couldn't hold a candle to Luce, and he
and Mabel had several disputes over it. Indeed one day they became so
angry at each other, that Mrs. Evans sent