A Modern Cinderella - Amanda Minnie Douglas (accelerated reader books txt) 📗

would be in tomorrow morning.

"I thought I would take Marilla out shopping with me. Come in to dinner again and spend the whole evening."

Dr. Richards promised to.

The others went up to the sitting room. Mr. Warren took possession of the big Morris chair, May had one knee, Jessie the other and Edith seated herself on the broad arm and placed her arm over her father's shoulder. They always exacted an hour of their father and he gave it with the utmost fondness.

"And here is a place for you, little Marilla," he said. "Now the chair is full. I've wondered sometimes if Edith wouldn't tip us over."

"I'd have to be as fat as Auntie Belle to do that," she laughed, "and now papa I want Marilla to tell you about a queer Home she was put in where they wouldn't let the little girls have dolls nor playthings, and they made dollies out of clothes pins and had to hide them."

"That was cruel to little girls. Why they have dolls by right and no one should prevent them. Didn't you play any?"

"Oh yes, out of doors, tag and Uncle John and Scotland's burning, and Lady Jane, and Ring around a Rosy; and then in summer you had to pull weeds in the garden. When it rained you had to march in doors, but if you tried to dance a little you had to go and sit down. Oh, they were very strict."

"And what else did you do?"

"All the bigger girls made the beds and twice a week brushed up the floors, and every little while you went in the kitchen for a week and helped with the cooking so you would know how to work. When you were twelve they bound you out and you had to stay until you were eighteen."

"But didn't you study any?"

"Oh, yes, there was school every day."

"And did _you_ get bound-out?"

"Yes." She flushed a little.

"But you did not stay?"

"Oh, tell papa about the babies," cried Edith.

"And did you ever notice the Campbell's soup little girl with her round eyes?"

"Who gets fat on eating soup? Yes," and he laughed.

"They looked something like that," said Marilla. "They were so fat and they had such round eyes, and you could make them laugh so easily. I went to take care of them and amuse them, but they were so good, they hardly ever cried, and I used to ride them round--they had such a beautiful wagon! But sometimes it seemed so heavy, it had to be big, you know, and then there was Jack. He wasn't very good, but after awhile he went to kindergarten."

"But how did you get away if you were bound?"

She told the story very simply and how a lovely lady took her in and she was ill a long while, and she knew this was a fairy godmother, so she always called her that, because--

"Because what?"

"It was a curious dream I had. Bridget said it was a dream; but it seemed so real, and I was Cinderella."

"Oh, do tell us!" they pleaded.

"I am afraid it's silly," and she flushed.

"Cinderella is lovely, and did you see the Prince?"

They all looked so eager that she was persuaded. So she began by sitting in the corner of the kitchen and they listened as if they were enchanted. She was so vivid it seemed as if her face was transfigured. Mrs. Warren dropped her sewing and bent forward.

Edith drew a long breath and squeezed the new cousin's hand. "Oh" she cried, "it's lovelier than the real Cinderella, and you danced with the Prince? Can you dance--truly?"

"Oh, yes, after that, I used to dance for Bridget. Mrs. Johnson wouldn't let you, she thought it wicked. It's queer how people think about things, and I danced for the babies. Mrs. Borden and her sister went to dancing parties; they didn't think it wrong. It's so beautiful."

"Our cousins Isabel and Charlie Firth go to dancing school. Mother thinks I may go next winter. They are teaching it in some schools."

"Children," said Mrs. Warren, "do you know what time it is? You must go to bed. Marilla you have betwitched us all. And papa will have hardly time to read his paper. Come. Marilla will not run away, so you can have her tomorrow night."

Mr. Warren kissed all the little girls and they trooped off.

"You may sleep on the lounge in my room, Edith, and give Marilla your bed, I can't send her up stairs alone, and now you must not say a word after your prayers for I know she is clear tired out."

They were generally very good children to mind. Their mother left them with a good-night kiss. Mr. Warren had rolled his chair nearer the center table and taken up his paper.

"Mother," he exclaimed, "that Marilla is an unusual child. How beautifully she describes everything, but the sweetest trait about her is her utter lack of bitterness. Most children would have been sharp and disparaging about Mrs. Johnson, but she never uttered a bitter word. It really was wonderful. I hope that Dr. Richards will give her a first-class education, and I'd like to see that fairy godmother. Marilla needs good care, she isn't very strong, but there is happiness in every pulse of her small body. I wish we could keep her."

The next morning the children had to kiss her half a dozen times before they went to school, and make her promise over and over again that she would not let Dr. Richards take her home. While Mrs. Warren was doing up her morning's work Marilla wrote her letter to Miss Armitage, who smiled over the thrill of delight that ran through it. Aunt Grace was so sweet and lovely and she couldn't describe the girls for she didn't know any words that were beautiful enough and good enough to apply to them. Jessie was a real little beauty with the most wonderful eyes that were like brown velvet and sunshine, and she didn't know father's could be so sweet as Uncle Warren. Maybe Mr. Borden would love the twins that way when they grew older. They might be prettier then. But her dear fairy godmother lived in her mind all the time, she wanted her to see and hear everything. There would be so much to tell her that she couldn't write.

It was a wonderful day to Marilla. Such splendid stores and gowns that were fit for queens. Such beautiful dishes and jewelry, such stacks of books; and, oh, such dolls holding out their hands with a pleading look in their eyes. She could hardly tear herself away. Was she too big to have a doll?

Then they went into a cozy place and had a dainty lunch, only it did seem as if Marilla was too happy to eat. If fairy godmother were only here!

Afterward they went to the Eden Musee. You had to ride from place to place; why, it was full of strange people who never stirred. They could not be dead! What _was_ the matter with them? The wonder in her eyes made Mrs. Warren smile. Some were funny, too; you wanted to laugh with them. Marilla sat down in perfect despair as if she had gone to some strange country.

"I don't see how they can make them just like folks," she said. "You feel almost sure they are going to speak to you."

A very tired little girl it was who came home, but it was such a pleasant, happy tired she didn't mind. It wasn't like dragging the heavy babies around. Aunt Grace made her lie down on the lounge and the girls gathered round her talking it over. They had been several times.

Then Dr. Richards came in and they had such a delightful time. Why the whole world of pleasure was fairy land when you come to think of it. "And there's the Hippodrome," said Edith. "Oh mother don't you believe father could take us on Saturday?"

"And couldn't I go, too?"

The doctor asked in such a whimsical tone that they all laughed. Jessie sidled up to him, she was well so she need not be afraid of a doctor. She was very sweet but she wasn't quite Cinderella.

What a fine evening they had! It seemed as if they must have known each other for years. Bits of Marilla's life came out unconsciously; the doing for others without thinking of herself that really did glorify it. Unwittingly she showed more of it to Dr. Richards than she had ever before in her gratitude. Under the children's questions some of the trials came out.

Every morning she wrote to Miss Armitage out of her full heart, and the lady understood how she would thrive in natural companionship. Almost she felt as if she ought to yield her to these relatives, but she wanted her. It was strange how she had left her impress everywhere yet she was a very modest little girl, demanding nothing, taking all favors with a gratitude that was fascinating. Jane rehearsed so many pretty sayings and missed her everywhere. Bridget came around to hear whether the story of the fortune was absolutely true. The Bordens could hardly believe it. Mr. John Borden wished they had not let her go quite so soon. "She certainly was a nice child," he said.

They went to the great stores and to Central Park, and Marilla overflowed with happiness. Why it was like the fairy dream, and she wished the girls at the Home could have some of it, or could find a fairy godmother. There were so many things to interest the doctor. How the days did slip away and all the time Marilla grew sweeter, dearer; but at last he said they _must_ go home.

"Oh, how can we let you go?" cried Edith. "Why I do believe you came from fairy land yourself; but now you'll come and visit us often."

"And you can come to Newton. Fairy godmother has such a lovely house, and she is so sweet. You will like her."

Oh, the child ought not be on sufferance but have the genial freedom of a home of her very own where she could live over the childhood she had missed and learn the glad inspiration of youth.

What did Miss Armitage mean to do for her? Yes, she wanted her; why there would be a great loss in life without her, but she no longer needed charity. She could not do everything for her; as she had planned. Would she share a divided interest?

Dr. Richards heart yearned over her, coveted her. Marilla had crept in and taken possession of his inmost soul. It was not likely there would be any other occupant. For he had never seen any sign of relenting on Miss Armitage's part. They were excellent friends. Neither overstepped the prescribed bounds, and he must have something to love and to cherish.

But he had to tear himself away presently, and he carried her with him in his heart, and the next morning he dropped in and had her all to himself. Mrs. Warren had gone to the dressmakers.

"Oh," Marilla said with a long sigh of delight, "how lovely it is to have sisters! and--and a father! If I couldn't have but one I think I'd take the father. Isn't Mr. Warren just splendid and sweet and charming? There's a book of poems at Miss Armitage's that