Who Would Have Thought It?. María Ruiz de Burton
the drivers of the two wagons, and Dandy Jim,—the doctor's body-servant,-it was found necessary to call in Bingham, the gardener; and the doctor himself lent the aid of his muscular arms to roll the boxes into the hall. Mrs. Norval came out to remonstrate against such heavy boxes full of stones being brought into the hall to scratch the oilcloth, which was nearly new; but the doctor would have them in the hall, so that Mrs. Norval was obliged to desist, and the work of rolling in the boxes continued.
Mrs. Norval asked the two reverend gentlemen to stay to tea. Mr. Hackwell accepted readily, but Mr. Hammerhard declined, as Mrs. Hammerhard's baby was only three weeks old, and she felt lonely without him.
Whilst Dr. Norval was busy rolling in his heavy boxes, the ladies and the Rev. Mr. Hackwell turned their attention to the little black girl, upon whom the doctor evidently had bestowed great care, making now and then occasional remarks upon the wellknown idiosyncrasy of the doctor for collecting all sorts of rocks.
"The doctor is not content with bringing four boxes more, full of stones; but now he, I fear, having exhausted the mineral kingdom, is about to begin with the animal, and this is our first specimen," said Mrs. Norval, pointing at the boxes in the hall and at the little girl, who was looking at her with a steady, thoughtful gaze.
" The next specimen will be a baboon," added Ruth; "for papa's samples don't improve."
"I have been looking at this one, and I think it is rather pretty, only very black," the Rev. Hackwell observed.
"Of course she is pretty," put in Mattie. "Look what magnificent eyes she has, and what red and prettily-cut lips!"
"How could she have such lips?-negroes' lips are not like those. What is your name?" cried out Miss Lavinia, as if the child were deaf.
The girl did not answer: she only turned her lustrous eyes on her, then again riveted her gaze upon Mrs. Norval, who seemed to fascinate her.
"How black she is!" uttered Mrs. Norval, with a slight shiver of disgust.
"I don't think she is so black," said Mattie, taking one of the child's hands and turning it to see the palm of it. "See, the palm of her hand is as white as mine,-and a prettier white; for it has such a pretty pink shade to it."
"Drop her hand, Mattie! you don't know what disease she might have," said Mrs. Norval, imperiously.
"Nonsense! As if papa would bring any one with a contagious disease to his house!" said Mattie, still holding the child's hand. "How pretty her little hand is, and all her features are certainly lovely! See how well cut her nose and lips are; and as for her eyes, I wish I had them: they are perfectly superb!"
"Isn't she pretty?" exclaimed the doctor, bringing in the last box. "And her disposition is so lovely and affectionate, and she is so grateful and thoughtful for one so young!"
"How old is she? Her face is so black that, truly, it baffles all my efforts to guess her age," said Mrs. Norval, dryly, interrupting the doctor.
"She is only ten years old; but her history is already more romantic than that of half of the heroines of your trashy novels," answered the doctor.
"She is a prodigy, then,- a true emanation of the black art!" said Mrs. Norval, smiling derisively, "if so much is to be told of a child so young."
"Not of her personally, but of her birth and the history of her parents,—that is to say, so far as I know it."
"Who were her parents, papa?" asked Mattie.
"Indians or negroes, or both," Ruth said. "Any one can see that much of her history."
"And those who saw that much would be mistaken or fools," retorted the doctor, warmly.
"Well, well, even if she be a Princess Sheba, let us not have a discussion about it the minute you return home. Suppose we change the subject to a more agreeable one," said Mrs. Norval.
"I am perfectly willing," the doctor replied, drawing to his side the little girl, who had stood silently listening to the conversation, looking wistfully from one face to the other.
"I suppose you got my letter telling you I had sent for Julian?—and now he is in Boston, where every New Englander should be educated," Mrs. Norval said, boldly.
"But where not every New Englander is willing to be educated. Julian writes to me that he doesn't like his college," the doctor replied.
"Julian is perfectly ruined by his unfortunate trip to Europe," said Mrs. Norval, addressing Mr. Hackwell, "and, like Isaac, he will never get over his fondness for foreigners."
Happily, Hannah, the waiter-girl, came to interrupt the conversation by announcing that tea was ready.
"Take this child to the kitchen," said Mrs. Norval to Hannah, pointing to the little girl.
"What for? She is very well here," the doctor said, putting his arms around the child's waist.
Doctor, you certainly do not mean that we are to keep this creature always near us,-you can't mean it!" exclaimed Mrs. Norval, half interrogatively and half deprecatingly.
"And why not?" was the doctor's rejoinder.
Mrs. Norval was too astounded to say why not. She silently led the way to the tea-table.
"I beg you to remember, Mr. Hackwell," said the doctor, following his wife and holding the poor little girl by the hand, "and to draw from that fact a moral for a sermon, that my wife is a lady of the strictest Garrisonian school, a devout follower of Wendell Phillips's teachings, and a most enthusiastic admirer of Mr. Sumner. Compare these facts with the reception she gives this poor little orphan because her skin is dark; whilst I, - a good-fornothing Democrat, who don't believe in Sambo, but believe in Christian charity and human mercy,-I feel pity for the little thing."
CHAPTER III.
THE MYSTERIOUS BIG BOXES.
"WHERE is the child to eat her supper?" asked Mrs. Norval of her husband, without making any answer to his last remarks.
"Here by my side, of course," the doctor replied.
"I am glad you have abjured your old prejudices against the African race," said Mr. Hackwell, without making allusion to Mrs. Norval's sentiments upon the subject.
"Yes; but the evil spirit has not left our house, for it has only jumped out of me to take possession of my better half," said the doctor, laughing. "Since when have you changed, wife, that a dark skin has become so objectionable to you?"
"As for that, you are mistaken. I do not object to her dark skin, only I wish to know what position she is to occupy in my family. Which wish I consider quite reasonable, since I am the one to regulate my household," said Mrs. Norval, taking hold of the teapot to serve tea, but with a look that suggested a wish on her part to welcome her husband by throwing it at his devoted head.
"Her position in our family will be that of an adopted child," said the doctor.
Mrs. Norval's hand shook so violently on hearing this that she poured the tea all over the tray, but little of it falling in the cup where she meant to pour it. With assumed calmness, however, she said,
"In that case your daughters and myself will have to wait upon your adopted child; for I am sure we will not find in all New England a white girl willing to do it."
"And that, of course, speaks very highly for New England,-abolitionist New England, mind you. But I'll warrant, madam, that you shall have plenty of servants."
Mrs. Norval was too angry to speak. There was an awkward pause, which happily Mattie interrupted, saying,
"Has she got any name, papa?"
"I suppose her name is Rabbit, or Hare, or Squirrel; that is, if she is an Indian," said Ruth, laughing.
"You ask her," the doctor said.