anybody in the Fairy Tales: Cinderella, or Blue-Beard, or dear Red Riding-Hood herself. Only there was a sort of mixture of Sunday-school book in their idea of her, for Cousin Helen was very, very good.
None of them had ever seen her. Philly said he was sure she hadn’t any legs, because she never went away from home, and lay on a sofa all the time. But the rest knew that this was because Cousin Helen was ill. Papa always went to visit her twice a year, and he liked to talk to the children about her, and tell how sweet and patient she was, and what a pretty room she lived in. Katy and Clover had “played Cousin Helen” so long, that now they were frightened as well as glad at the idea of seeing the real one.
“Do you suppose she will want us to say hymns to her all the time?” asked Clover.
“Not all the time,” replied Katy, “because you know she’ll get tired, and have to take naps in the afternoons. And then, of course, she reads the Bible a great deal. Oh dear, how quiet we shall have to be! I wonder how long she’s going to stay?”
“What do you suppose she looks like?” went on Clover.
“Something like ‘Lucy,’ in Mrs. Sherwood’s story, I guess, with blue eyes, and curls, and a long, straight nose. And she’ll keep her hands clasped so all the time, and wear ‘frilled wrappers,’ and lie on the sofa perfectly still, and never smile, but just look patient. We’ll have to take off our boots in the hall, Clover, and go up stairs in stocking feet, so as not to make a noise, all the time she stays.”
“Won’t it be funny!” giggled Clover, her sober little face growing bright at the idea of this variation on the hymns.
The time seemed very long till the next afternoon, when Cousin Helen was expected. Aunt Izzie, who was in a great excitement, gave the children many orders about their behavior. They were to do this and that, and not to do the other. Dorry, at last, announced that he wished Cousin Helen would just stay at home. Clover and Elsie, who had been thinking pretty much the same thing in private, were glad to hear that she was on her way to a Water Cure, and would stay only four days.
Five o’clock came. They all sat on the steps waiting for the carriage. At last it drove up. Papa was on the box. He motioned the children to stand back. Then he helped out a nice-looking young woman, who, Aunt Izzie told them, was Cousin Helen’s nurse, and then, very carefully, lifted Cousin Helen in his arms and brought her in.
“Oh, there are the chicks!” were the first words the children heard, in such a gay, pleasant voice. “Do set me down somewhere, uncle. I want to see them so much!”
So Papa put Cousin Helen on the hall sofa. The nurse fetched a pillow, and when she was made comfortable, Dr. Carr called to the little ones.
“Cousin Helen wants to see you ,” he said.
“Indeed I do,” said the bright voice. “So this is Katy? Why, what a splendid tall Katy it is! And this is Clover,” kissing her; “and this dear little Elsie. You all look as natural as possible – just as if I had seen you before.” And she hugged them all round, not as if it was polite to like them because they were relations, but as if she had loved them and wanted them all her life.
There was something in Cousin Helen’s face and manner, which made the children at home with her at once. Even Philly, who had backed away with his hands behind him, after staring hard for a minute or two, came up with a sort of rush to get his share of kissing.
Still, Katy’s first feeling was one of disappointment. Cousin Helen was not at all like “Lucy,” in Mrs. Sherwood’s story. Her nose turned up the least bit in the world. She had brown hair, which didn’t curl, a brown skin, and bright eyes, which danced when she laughed or spoke. Her face was thin, but except for that you wouldn’t have guessed that she was sick. She didn’t fold her hands, and she didn’t look patient, but absolutely glad and merry. Her dress wasn’t a “frilled wrapper,” but a sort of loose travelling thing of pretty gray stuff, with a rose-colored bow, and bracelets, and a round hat trimmed with a gray feather. All Katy’s dreams about the “saintly invalid” seemed to take wings and fly away. But the more she watched Cousin Helen the more she seemed to like her, and to feel as if she were nicer than the imaginary person which she and Clover had invented.
“She looks just like other people, don’t she?” whispered Cecy, who had come over to have a peep at the new arrival.
“Y-e-s,” replied Katy, doubtfully, “only a great, great deal prettier.”
By and by, Papa carried Cousin Helen up stairs. All the children wanted to go too, but he told them she was tired, and must rest. So they went out-doors to play till tea-time.
“Oh, do let me take up the tray,” cried Katy at the tea-table, as she watched Aunt Izzie getting ready Cousin Helen’s supper. Such a nice supper! Cold chicken, and raspberries and cream, and tea in a pretty pink-and-white china cup. And such a snow-white napkin as Aunt Izzie spread over the tray!
“No indeed,” said Aunt Izzie. “you’ll drop it the first thing.” But Katy’s eyes begged so hard, that Dr. Carr said, “Yes, let her, Izzie; I like to see the girls useful.”
So Katy, proud of the commission, took the tray and carried it carefully across the hall. There was a bowl of flowers on the table. As she passed, she was struck with a bright idea. She set down the tray, and picking out a rose, laid it on the napkin beside the saucer of crimson raspberries. It looked very pretty, and Katy smiled to herself with pleasure.
“What are you stopping for?” called Aunt Izzie, from the dining-room. “Do be careful, Katy, I really think Bridget had better take it.”
“Oh, no, no!” protested Katy. “I’m most up already.” And she sped up stairs as fast as she could go. Luckless speed! She had just reached the door of the Blue-room when she tripped upon her boot-lace, which, as usual, was dangling, made a misstep, and stumbled. She caught at the door to save herself; the door flew open; and Katy, with the tray, cream, raspberries, rose and all, descended in a confused heap upon the carpet.
“I told you so!” exclaimed Aunt Izzie from the bottom of the stairs.
Katy never forgot how kind Cousin Helen was on this occasion. She was in bed, and was of course a good deal startled at the sudden crash and tumble on her floor. But after one little jump, nothing could have been sweeter than the way in which she comforted poor crest-fallen Katy, and made so merry over the accident, that even Aunt Izzie almost forgot to scold. The broken dishes were piled up and the carpet made clean again, while Aunt Izzie prepared another tray just as nice as the first.
“Please let Katy bring it up!” pleaded Cousin Helen, in her pleasant voice, “I am sure she will be careful this time. And Katy, I want just such another rose on the napkin. I guess that was your doing – wasn’t it?”
Katy was careful. – This time all went well. The tray was placed safely on a little table beside the bed, and Katy sat watching Cousin Helen eat her supper with a warm, loving feeling at her heart. I think we are scarcely ever so grateful to people as when they help us to get back our own self-esteem.
Cousin Helen hadn’t much appetite, though she declared everything was delicious. Katy could see that she was very tired.
“Now,” she said, when she had finished, “if you’ll shake up this pillow, so; – and move this other pillow a little, I think I will settle myself to sleep. Thanks – that’s just right. Why, Katy dear, you are a born nurse. Now kiss me. Good-night! To-morrow we will have a nice talk.”
