Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha
herself to Mrs. Keith as the "Hinglish girl, Viny Apple, that Mrs. Prior had recommended."
Mrs. Keith received her kindly, "Can you cook and do general housework?" she asked.
"Yes, mum; of course, that's what I came for."
"I hope you understand how to work, but it is not to be expected that your way will always be what will suit me best; so I trust you are willing to be directed."
"If you're not too hard to please, mum, I'll suit, I'm sure."
"We will try it. Zillah, show Viny where she is to sleep."
"Is she to come to the table?" asked Mildred, when the two had disappeared up the stairway.
"We shall see; I have not spoken of it yet."
"You won't put up with that, mother surely?"
"I think I must if that is the only condition on which we can have help with our housework."
On coming down, Viny was directed to set the table for dinner, shown where to find the requisite articles, told how many were in the family, and left to the performance of her task.
Mildred noted the number of plates set on, and saw that Viny had counted herself in with the rest.
"You have one plate too many," she said with some sharpness of tone.
"No, Miss."
"You certainly have. Here are eleven; and we are only ten."
"And I make 'leven," returned Viny, a hot flush on her cheek and an angry gleam in her eyes.
"You?"
"Yes, Miss, I'm as good as the rest; and if I cook the victuals I 'ave a right to eat 'em."
A warning glance from her mother's eye checked the angry exclamation on the tip of Mildred's tongue.
"We will consent to your coming to the table with us, Viny, on condition that you are always neat and tidy in appearance," Mrs. Keith remarked in a quiet tone. "And now you may help me to dish up the dinner."
Aunt Wealthy was busied with her candle moulds in one corner of the kitchen; putting in the wicks.
"So that question's settled," she said in an aside to her niece; "and I think you have done wisely, Marcia."
The faces that surrounded the dinner-table that day were a study. Those of Miss Stanhope and Mrs. Keith wore their usual placid expression, but Mildred's was flushed and angry, Rupert's full of astonishment, reflected to some extent by the younger ones, while that of the new comer expressed self-assertion and defiance.
Mr. Keith glanced quizzically from one to another for a moment. Then gave his attention to filling the plates; talking at the same time in a cheerful strain.
"I have found a lot, wife, which I think will suit us for building on. If nobody feels too tired for a walk after tea we will all go and look at it. It is to be for the family, and the family must decide as to its merits."
This turned the current of thought and all the young people grew eager and animated. It was quite evident that no one intended to be too much fatigued to be of the party of inspection.
In the midst of the talk a low, half-terrified exclamation from Fan drew the attention of all, and following the direction of her glance they saw a tall Indian in the doorway, while beyond in the street, were many others, some on foot, some on horseback, some in the act of dismounting.
They were of both sexes and all ages; the papooses tied into little wooden troughs which the mothers stood up on end on the ground.
The babies were very quiet, not a whimper to be heard from any of them; though they were deprived of the use of their hands—their clothing being a straight strip of cloth folded around their bodies in such a way as to pin their poor little arms down to their sides—and had nothing to amuse them but a string of tiny bells stretched across the trough in front of their faces.
"Ugh!" said the Indian on the doorstep, "shawp!" and he pointed from a basket of berries his squaw had set down beside him to the loaf on the table.
"Oh do let's give it to 'im! no knowin' what 'e'll do if we don't!" cried Viny in a fright.
"It will be a good enough exchange," said Mr. Keith, taking the loaf and handing it to the Indian. "Bring a pan for the berries."
The Indian passed the loaf on to his squaw with a grunt of satisfaction, poured a quart or so of berries into the pan Viny had hastened to bring, then again pointed to the table.
"What now?" asked Mr. Keith, good-humoredly.
The Indian replied by a gesture as if lifting a cup to his lips; and Mildred saying, "He's thirsty," hastened to pour out a tumbler of milk and hand it to him.
He drank it, returned the glass with a nod of thanks and walked away.
"I'll just run hout and water 'em hall," said Viny, hurrying into the kitchen for a bucket and tin cup, "it's always best to keep on the good side of 'em, folks tell me, if you don't want to run no risk of losin' the 'air hoff yer 'ead."
Mr. Keith was standing in the doorway where the Indian had been a moment before.
"Come and look at them, wife, and all of you," he said, "it's quite a show and there's not the least danger."
Thus encouraged the children crowded to the door and window and found much amusement in watching the movements of the savages and Viny's efforts to win favor with them; efforts apparently well-directed, for the day was warm and they drank the cool water freshly drawn from the well in the yard, as if they found it very refreshing.
The troop—some thirty or forty in number—did not tarry long; in less than an hour they had all remounted and gone on their way.
"There! them savage wild Hinguns is all clear gone and hour scalps is safe for the present," remarked Viny, with a sigh of relief as the last one disappeared from view in a cloud of dust far down the street.
She had run out to the corner of the house, dishtowel in hand, to watch their movements as far as she could see them.
"Don't talk so; you'll frighten the children," said Mildred, reprovingly, speaking from the front door where she stood with the little ones grouped about her.
"I don't take my horders from you," muttered the girl, stalking back to her kitchen.
After an early tea the proposed family walk was taken.
The lot—a little farther to the north than any which had been built upon as yet, on the high river bank and overlooking the ferry—was pronounced all that could be desired.
It was on a corner, and on two sides afforded a fine view of the river, on the others of town and country.
"When we have our house built," remarked Mr. Keith, "we'll be able to see the Kankakee Marsh from the second story windows."
"Marsh?" repeated his wife in a tone of alarm, "how far off is it?"
"We're about two miles from this end; it is two hundred miles long, you remember, extending far over into Illinois. But why that sigh?"
"Ague!"
"Well, don't let us cross the bridge before we come to it. This is a beautiful spot. I think we can, in a few years, make it superior in point of beauty to any we have ever lived in."
"I think so too, if we can keep these fine old oaks."
There were several of them; grand old trees that had stood the storms of centuries, perhaps.
"We will; we'll manage our building in a way not to interfere with them."
At that Mildred's face brightened as it had not since her first sight of the yellow house.
She had been very homesick for the dear old home in Lansdale, though not a word of it had she breathed even into her mother's sympathetic ear.
"How soon can the house be done?" she asked.