Fifty-Two Stories For Girls Part 17

But Jack had clutched d.i.c.k's hand and now lay back sleepily.

d.i.c.k felt desperate. He glanced round. Captain and Mrs. Treves and the nurse were gathered round the other little white bed. Was Roy worse?

With what he felt to be an unmanly lump in his throat, he leaned over the boy again.

"Jack, I say, Jack" (hurriedly), "if you drink this you shall be a captain."

Jack heard, and when d.i.c.k raised him up, he drained the gla.s.s.

"But Roy, d.i.c.k, he's a captain?"

"Roy shall be promoted too," replied d.i.c.k.

And just then the captain left the other bed and came over to Jack. d.i.c.k could see Mrs. Treves bending over Roy, and the nurse leaving the room.

He looked up and saw that there were actually tears in the captain's eyes. He had never seen a soldier cry before, and guessed what had happened. Roy had indeed been promoted. He would never again "play soldiers" with Jack or d.i.c.k.

Jack was now sleeping quietly, and the doctor, who came in an hour later, p.r.o.nounced him out of danger.

"Goodbye, my boy. We thought you'd like Roy's watch as you were fond of him," said the captain next day; and then Mrs. Treves not only shook hands, but stooped and kissed him.

d.i.c.k flushed, muttered some incoherent thanks, and went off to the station.

d.i.c.k reached school in time for the cricket-match, after all; but, fond as he was of cricket, he absented himself from the ground that afternoon, and spent the time printing off some photos of "two kids," as a chum rather scornfully remarked.

One of those "kids" is now a lieutenant in the regiment of which d.i.c.k is a captain, and, indeed, in a fair way to become a colonel--for the second time in his life.

NETTIE.

BY ALFRED G. SAYERS.

Nettie was a bright, fair girl of fifteen years of age, tall and graceful in movement and form, and resolute in character beyond her years. She was standing on the departure platform of the L. & N. W.

Railway at Euston Square, watching the egress of the Manchester express, or rather that part of it which disclosed a head, an arm, and a cap, all moving in frantic and eccentric evolutions.

Tom, her brother, two years her senior, was on his way back to school for his last term, full of vague, if big, ideas of what he was going to be when, school days over, he should "put away childish things." "Most of our fellows," he had said loftily, as he stood beside his sister on the platform a few moments before, "go into the Army or Navy and become admirals or generals or something of that sort." And then he had hinted with less definiteness that his own career would probably combine the advantages of all the professions though he only followed one. But Tom soon dropped from these sublime heights to more mundane considerations, and his last words concerned a new cricket bat which Nettie was to "screw out of the gov'nor" for him, a new pup which she was to bring up by hand under his special directions, and correspondence, which on her part at least, was to be regular, and not too much occupied with details about "the kids."

Nettie sighed as she turned her steps homewards, and her handkerchief was damped by at least one drop of distilled emotion that bedewed the rose upon her cheek. Poor Nettie, she too was conscious of a destiny, and had bewildered thoughts of what she was going to be! She had opened her heart on this subject to her brother Tom during the holidays; but she had not received much encouragement, and at the present moment she was inclined to murmur at the reflection that the world was made for boys, and after all she was only a girl.

"What will you be?" Tom had said in answer to her question during one of their confidential chats. "You? why, you--well, you will stay with the mater, of course."

"Yes; but girls do all sorts of things nowadays, Tom," she had replied.

"Some are doctors, some are authors, some are----"

"Blue-stockings," responded the ungallant Tom. "Don't be absurd, Net,"

he added patronisingly; "you'll stay with the pater and mater, and some day you will marry some fellow, or you can keep house for me, and then, when I am not with my s.h.i.+p or my regiment, of course I shall be with you."

Poor Nettie! She had formed an idea that the possibilities of life ought to include something more heroic for her than keeping house for her brother, and she had determined that she would not sink herself in the hum-drum of uneventful existence without some effort to avoid it; and so it happened that that same evening, after doing her duty by the baby pup and Tom's new cricket bat, she startled her father and mother by the somewhat abrupt and altogether unexpected question,--

"Father, what am I going to be?"

"Be?" repeated her father, drawing her on to his knee, "why, be my good little daughter as you always have been, Nettie. Are you tired of that, dear?"

But no, Nettie was not tired of her father's love, and she had no idea of being less affectionate because she wanted to be more wise and useful, and so she returned her father's caresses with interest, and treated her mother in the same way, so that there might be no jealousy; and then, sitting down in the armchair with the air of one commanding attention, harked back to the all-absorbing topic. "You know, father, there's Minnie Roberts, isn't there?"

"What if there is?" replied her father.

"Well, you know she's going to the University, don't you, dad?"

"No, I didn't."

"Well, she is. Then she'll be a doctor, or professor, or something.

That's what I should like to be."

Mr. Anderson looked from his wife to his daughter with somewhat of surprise on his face. He was a just man; and he and his wife had but recently discussed the plans (including personal sacrifices) by which Master Tom's advancement was to be secured. Really, that anything particular needed to be done for Nettie had hardly occurred to him. He had imagined her going on at the High School for another year, say, and then settling down as mother's companion. His desire not to be harsh, coupled with his unreadiness, led Mr. Anderson to temporise. "Well, little girl," he said, "you plod on, and we'll have a talk about it."

Nettie was in a triumphant mood. She had expected repulse, to be reminded of the terrible expense Tom was, and was to be, and she felt the battle already won. Doubtless the fact that Nettie was heartened was a great deal toward the success that was unexpectedly to dazzle her. She worked hard at school, and yet so buoyant was her spirit, that she found it easy to neglect none of her customary duties at home. She helped dust the drawing-room, and ran to little Dorothy in her troubles as of yore; and Mrs. Anderson came to remark more and more often to her husband, what a treat it would be when Nettie came home for good. "You can see she has forgotten every word about the idea of a profession," said that lady; "and I'm very glad. She's the light of the house." Forgotten! Oh no! Far from it! as they were soon to realise. The end of the term came--Tom was expected home on the morrow, Sat.u.r.day. In the afternoon Nettie walked in from school, her face ablaze with excitement. For a moment she could say nothing; so that her mother dropped her work and wondered if Nettie had picked up a thousand-pound note. Then came the announcement--"Mother! I've won a Scholars.h.i.+p!"

"You have?"

"Yes, mother dear, I'm the QUEEN VICTORIA SCHOLAR!" Nettie stood up and bowed.

"And what does that do for you?"

"Why, I can go on studying for my profession for three years, and it won't cost father a penny!"

"What profession, dear?"

"I don't know, mother, what. But I want to be a doctor."

"A what!"

"A doctor, mother. Minnie Roberts is studying for a doctor; and I think it's splendid."

"What! cut people open with a knife!"

"Yes, mother, if it's going to do them good."

"But, my dear----"

However, Nettie knew very little about the medical profession; she only knew that Minnie Roberts went about just in the independent way that a man does, and was studying hard, and seemed very lively and witty. So detailed discussion was postponed to congratulation, inquiry, and surmise. "What _will_ Tom say?" Nettie found herself continually asking herself, and herself quite unable to answer herself. What Tom did actually say we must detail in its proper place, which comes when Mr.

Anderson and Nettie go to meet him at the station. They were both rather excited, for Mr. Anderson had, to tell the truth, felt somewhat guilty towards his little daughter over the question of the profession. While he had flattered himself that the idea was a pa.s.sing fancy, she had cherished his words of encouragement, and had made easier the realisation of her dream by her steady improvement of the opportunity at hand, viz., her school work.

Tom kissed Nettie and shook hands with his father, and then it was that Nettie said,--

"Tom, I've won a Scholars.h.i.+p!"