The Children of the Top Floor Part 3

"Yes," said Betty politely.

"Well, I'm thankful to hear it, I'm sure. I never had such a climb in my life. It's an outrage not to have elevators in these high buildings. Can you tell me which is Mrs. Randall's apartment?"

"It's this one," said Betty, looking very much surprised, for she was sure she had never seen the lady before, "but Mrs. Randall is out. I'm her little girl; I could take any message."

The lady drew a step back, and stood regarding Betty with keen, though kindly scrutiny.

"So you are Mrs. Randall's little girl," she said; "I remember she told me she had children. Well, I suppose I shall have to leave my message with you, though I am sorry not to see her myself, if only to say good-bye."

"Won't you come in?" said Betty. "Mother will be at home pretty soon, I think; she generally gets back by four."

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly spare the time; my carriage is waiting, and I have no end of things to attend to this afternoon. Will you tell your mother that Mrs. Martin called? Mrs. Henry Martin. Perhaps you may have heard her speak of me."

"Oh, yes," said Betty eagerly; "mother gives music lessons to your two little boys."

"Yes, to be sure she does, and that is the very thing I wanted to see her about. My husband has suddenly decided to go to Europe on business, and we are all going with him. It was arranged only last evening, and we sail next Sat.u.r.day. I hate to take the children off like this right in the middle of the quarter, and that is why I wanted to come and see your mother about it rather than write her a note. It really can't be helped, and I know she will understand. Ask her, please, to let me have her bill, and she needn't trouble to come again; the children will be too busy to take any more lessons before we sail."

"I'll tell mother," said Betty; "she'll be sorry not to have seen you herself."

Mrs. Martin was turning away, but she glanced once more at Betty's pale little face, and then, as if with a sudden thought, she paused and drew out her purse.

"My little boys are very fond of your mother," she said kindly. "They mind her better than they ever minded any other teacher they had, and their father and I are both much pleased with her methods. I hope that another winter--but one never knows what may happen. Here's a little present for you, dear; buy something nice for yourself with it."

As she spoke, Mrs. Martin held out her hand, and in it there was a bill.

Betty saw it distinctly; a crisp, new five-dollar bill.

For one breathless, delicious moment, the little girl wavered, while her heart beat so fast that she could scarcely breathe, and all the blood in her body seemed to come surging up into her face and neck. Impulsively, she held out her hand. Another second and her fingers would have closed upon the tempting gift. Suddenly her hand dropped to her side, and all the color died out of her face again, leaving it even paler than before.

"You are very kind," she said in a low, unsteady voice; "thank you very much, but--but mother doesn't like to have us take money."

Mrs. Martin looked surprised, even a little annoyed. For a moment she seemed inclined to dispute the point, but seeing the child's evident embarra.s.sment and distress, changed her mind.

"Very well, dear," she said good-naturedly. "I am sorry you won't take my present, but you are right not to do anything of which your mother would disapprove. When we come back next autumn you must get your mother to bring you to see us some time. Now good-bye. You won't forget my message, will you?"

Jack was watching anxiously for his sister's return. At the familiar sound of the latch-key he raised himself on his elbow, straining his eyes for the first glimpse of Betty's face.

"Well, is it all right?" he cried eagerly; "are we going to have the carriage? Oh, Betty, it isn't; I see it in your eyes."

Betty said nothing, but going over to the sofa, sat down beside her little brother, slipping her arm lovingly about him. Jack winked hard and bit his lip, but he, too, was silent after that first exclamation.

Perhaps even Betty herself did not realize how keen this disappointment was to the little cripple. In a few moments Betty spoke.

"It was five dollars," she said.

"Five dollars!" repeated Jack incredulously. "Oh, Betty, what a lot of money! Mother could never spare all that at once."

"I could have had it, though," said Betty, speaking fast and nervously.

"I could have had every bit of it. A lady was coming to see mother; I met her on the stairs. Mother gives her little boys music lessons, and she came to say they are all going to Europe next week. She was very kind; she said she wanted to give me a present, and she offered me a five-dollar bill."

Jack gasped, and two red spots glowed in his cheeks.

"You didn't take it, did you?"

"I wanted to," said Betty slowly; "I wanted to very much. I was just going to take it in my hand, and then I remembered how mother would feel, and I didn't."

Jack heaved a deep sigh.

"I'm glad you didn't," he said rather tremulously.

Again there was silence. Both children were trying hard to keep back the coming tears. Again Betty was the first to speak.

"I suppose some mothers wouldn't mind their children taking presents,"

she said. "I wonder why mother is so very particular?"

"Why, don't you know?" Jack's blue eyes opened wide in surprise. "It's because we're English, and mother once lived in that beautiful place with the park and the deer. She can't forget about it, even if she is poor now. She has to remember she's a lady, and ladies never do take money from strangers."

Betty sighed impatiently.

"I suppose it's wrong," she said, "but sometimes I can't help wis.h.i.+ng mother hadn't been quite such a grand person when she lived in England.

What's the use of it now when we have to live in a flat, and mother has to give music lessons and do all the housework herself? If she hadn't had all those beautiful things once, she wouldn't mind so much about being poor now."

"Well, but it's nice to have the other things to think about," said Jack. "Aren't you glad you've got ancestors?"

"I don't think I care very much," said practical Betty; "I'd rather have relations that are alive now. Winifred Hamilton said her uncle gave her a five-dollar gold-piece for Easter. I wish we had an uncle, don't you?"

"We have got Uncle Jack," said Jack thoughtfully, "but we don't know where he is, and mother doesn't like to have us ask her about him.

There's the door bell, and it's mother's ring. Wait one minute, Betty, please. Don't say anything to her about the carriage; she'd be so sorry to think we were disappointed, you know."

"No, I won't," said Betty emphatically.

CHAPTER III

WINIFRED'S THANK OFFERING

"Mother, dear, I want to talk to you about something very important."

"Well, my pet, what is it?" And Mrs. Hamilton laid aside her book, and took her little daughter into her lap.

It was the hour before dinner; the time of day that Winifred always liked best, because then her mother was never busy, and was quite ready to tell her stories, play games, or discuss any subject under the sun.

"It's about a story I've been reading," said Winifred, nestling her head comfortably on her mother's shoulder. "It's a lovely story, all about a little boy who was stolen and had to act in a circus and live in a caravan. He had a very hard time, but in the end his father and mother found him, and they were so happy that his father built a hospital for poor children just to show how grateful he was. He called it a Thank Offering."

Winifred paused to give a long, contented glance about the pretty, comfortable room. Her mother softly stroked the fluffy little head resting against her shoulder. She knew there was more to come.

"Well," Winifred went on after a moment, "I've been thinking a great deal about that story. You see, I think I feel very much the way those people did. Since you and father came home from California, and we came here to live, I've been so very, very happy. I say a little prayer to G.o.d about it sometimes, but I think I should like to do something for a Thank Offering too."