WHAT KATY DID - Complete Illustrated Trilogy: What Katy Did, What Katy Did at School & What Katy Did Next. Susan Coolidge
“Oh, Clover! how can you?” said Katy. But she gave Clover a great hug, and I think in her heart she was glad.
“Katy,” said Papa, next day, “you came into the room then, exactly like your new friend Miss Clark.”
“How? I don’t know what you mean,” answered Katy, blushing deeply.
“So,” said Dr. Carr; and he got up, raising his shoulders and squaring his elbows, and took a few mincing steps across the room. Katy couldn’t help laughing, it was so funny, and so like Imogen. Then Papa sat down again and drew her close to him.
“My dear,” he said, “you’re an affectionate child, and I’m glad of it. But there is such a thing as throwing away one’s affection. I didn’t fancy that little girl at all yesterday. What makes you like her so much?”
“I didn’t like her so much yesterday,” admitted Katy, reluctantly, “She’s a great deal nicer than that at school, sometimes.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” said her father. “For I should be sorry to think that you really admired such silly manners. And what was that nonsense I heard her telling you about Brigands?”
“It really hap–” began Katy. – Then she caught Papa’s eye, and bit her lip, for he looked very quizzical. “Well,” she went on, laughing, “I suppose it didn’t really all happen; – but it was ever so funny, Papa, even if it was a make-up. And Imogen’s just as good-natured as can be. All the girls like her.”
“Make-ups are all very well,” said Papa, “as long as people don’t try to make you believe they are true. When they do that, it seems to me it comes too near the edge of falsehood to be very safe or pleasant. If I were you, Katy, I’d be a little shy of swearing eternal friendship for Miss Clark. She may be good-natured, as you say, but I think two or three years hence she won’t seem so nice to you as she does now. Give me a kiss, Chick, and run away, for there’s Alexander with the buggy.”
Chapter VII.
Cousin Helen’s Visit
A little knot of the school-girls were walking home together one afternoon in July. As they neared Dr. Carr’s gate, Maria Fiske exclaimed, at the sight of a pretty bunch of flowers lying in the middle of the side-walk:
“Oh my!” she cried, “see what somebody’s dropped! I’m going to have it.” She stopped to pick it up. But, just as her fingers touched the stems, the nosegay, as if bewitched, began to move. Maria made a bewildered clutch. The nosegay moved faster, and at last vanished under the gate, while a giggle sounded from the other side of the hedge.
“Did you see that?” shrieked Maria; “those flowers ran away of themselves.”
“Nonsense,” said Katy, “it’s those absurd children.” Then, opening the gate, she called: “John! Dorry! Come out and show yourselves.” But nobody replied, and no one could be seen. The nosegay lay on the path, however, and picking it up, Katy exhibited to the girls a long end of black thread, tied to the stems.
“That’s a very favorite trick of Johnny’s,” she said; “she and Dorry are always tying up flowers, and putting them out on the walk to tease people. Here, Maria, take ‘em if you like. Though I don’t think John’s taste in bouquets is very good.”
“Isn’t it splendid to have vacation come?” said one of the bigger girls. “What are you all going to do? We’re going to the sea-side.”
“Pa says he’ll take Susie and me to Niagara,” said Maria.
“I’m going to make my aunt a visit,” said Alice Blair. “She lives in a real lovely place in the country, and there’s a pond there; and Tom (that’s my cousin) says he’ll teach me to row. What are you going to do, Katy?”
“Oh, I don’t know; play round and have splendid times,” replied Katy, throwing her bag of books into the air, and catching it again. But the other girls looked as if they didn’t think this good fun at all, and as if they were sorry for her; and Katy felt suddenly that her vacation wasn’t going to be so pleasant as that of the rest.
“I wish Papa would take us somewhere,” she said to Clover, as they walked up the gravel path. “All the other girls’ Papas do.”
“He’s too busy,” replied Clover. “Beside, I don’t think any of the rest of the girls have half such good times as we. Ellen Robbins says she’d give a million of dollars for such nice brothers and sisters as ours to play with. And, you know, Maria and Susie have awful times at home, though they do go to places. Mrs. Fiske is so particular. She always says ‘Don’t,’ and they haven’t got any yard to their house, or anything. I wouldn’t change.”
“Nor I,” said Katy, cheering up at these words of wisdom. “Oh, isn’t it lovely to think there won’t be any school to-morrow? Vacations are just splendid!” and she gave her bag another toss. It fell to the ground with a crash.
“There, you’ve cracked your slate,” said Clover.
“No matter, I sha’n’t want it again for eight weeks,” replied Katy, comfortably, as they ran up the steps.
They burst open the front door and raced up stairs, crying, “Hurrah! hurrah! vacation’s begun. Aunt Izzie, vacation’s begun!” Then they stopped short, for lo! the upper hall was all in confusion. Sounds of beating and dusting came from the spare room. Tables and chairs were standing about; and a cot-bed, which seemed to be taking a walk all by itself, had stopped short at the head of the stairs, and barred the way.
“Why, how queer!” said Katy, trying to get by. “What can be going to happen? Oh, there’s Aunt Izzie! Aunt Izzie, who’s coming? What are you moving the things out of the Blue-room for?”
“Oh, gracious! is that you?” replied Aunt Izzie, who looked very hot and flurried. “Now, children, it’s no use for you to stand there asking questions; I haven’t got time to answer them. Let the bedstead alone, Katy, you’ll push it into the wall. There, I told you so!” as Katy gave an impatient shove, “you’ve made a bad mark on the paper. What a troublesome child you are! Go right down stairs, both of you, and don’t come up this way again till after tea. I’ve just as much as I can possibly attend to till then.”
“Just tell us what’s going to happen, and we will,” cried the children.
“Your Cousin Helen is coming to visit us,” said Miss Izzie, curtly, and disappeared into the Blue-room.
This was news indeed. Katy and Clover ran down stairs in great excitement, and after consulting a little, retired to the Loft to talk it over in peace and quiet. Cousin Helen coming! It seemed as strange as if Queen Victoria, gold crown and all, had invited herself to tea. Or as if some character out of a book, Robinson Crusoe, say, or “Amy Herbert,” had driven up with a trunk and announced the intention of spending a week. For to the imaginations of the children, Cousin Helen was as interesting and unreal as 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