A Sweet Little Maid Page 4

  CHAPTER IV

  Housebreakers

  Despite all this unpleasant experience, it was only about a week laterthat Dimple and Florence came near getting into trouble again. Thistime, however, it was Florence who set the ball rolling. It was notexactly from a spirit of mischief, but because her fancy was appealedto, and because she did not see any harm in what she proposed.

  The two little girls had been to take a note to Mrs. Hardy, and on theirway home they passed a pretty house and grounds which greatly attractedFlorence.

  "Oh, do let us stop and look in," she said. "I think this is the veryprettiest place here, don't you, Dimple?"

  "Yes," was the reply, "I like it best. The grounds are so lovely. Seethose roses."

  The two pressed their faces against the iron railing, and let theireyes wander over the lawn and to the garden beyond.

  "How very quiet it is," Florence remarked, presently. "We can't hear asound except the wind among the trees, and the robins singing. Theredoesn't seem to be a soul about. Who lives here, Dimple?"

  "The Atkinsons. Mamma and papa know them."

  "Are there any little children?"

  "Not now; there used to be a little girl named Stella, but she died twoyears ago, and now there is only their eldest son living; he has justgone abroad with his mother. That is why it's so quiet. They are allaway. You see the house is shut up."

  "Ah, I wonder if they would mind if we went in and looked around. Do youthink they would mind? I should love so to go and sit on that porch fora few minutes."

  Dimple hesitated. She wasn't quite sure that it would be right for themto go in, especially when no one was at home.

  "You know," Florence went on, "it would be just exactly the same as ifwe went there to call, and they should happen to be out. It won't hurtanybody or anything for us to walk around and look at the grounds."

  At last Dimple consented. So they lifted the latch of the gate and shutit behind them very gingerly.

  "Do you often come here?" asked Florence, when they had made their tourof the grounds and were sitting on the porch in the shadow of the vines.

  "Not so very often, but I have been here with mamma when she came tocall. I remember Stella very well. She died of diphtheria, and they havea lovely portrait of her. She was such a pretty little girl, and theportrait shows her with a great big dog she used to have."

  "How I should like to see the portrait. Wouldn't it be nice if the doorshould suddenly open, and we could walk right in?"

  Dimple laughed. "I'd be scared if that should happen. The house isbeautiful inside. I never saw so many pretty things. Mrs. Atkinson'sfather was a naval officer, and she has curiosities from all over theworld."

  "I wish Mrs. Atkinson had said, 'Dimple, here are the keys, come in asoften as you like while we are away; in fact, I wish you would try tocome in and look around once in a while to see if everything is allright.'"

  "Maybe she would have said that if she had thought of it," returnedDimple, "for she is always so nice and pleasant."

  Florence cast wistful eyes up and down the side of the house; then shewent out on the lawn, at the side, and looked up. "Dimple, come here,"she called, and her cousin obeyed. "We could get in as easily asanything," said Florence. "See, that's a very easy tree to climb, andthat long branch goes right over the upper porch. We could reach that;then we could go in by raising the window."

  "If the window is not fastened down. Maybe there is some one in thehouse, after all. I shouldn't think they would leave it with no one everto look after it. We might go around to the back door and see."

  "Let's try climbing the tree anyhow. It will be easy enough to do that,and won't do a bit of harm. See, I'm going," and Florence put her footagainst the rough bark, and swung herself up, reaching the porchwithout difficulty. But Dimple would not follow and her cousin climbeddown again, not, however, as easily as she had gone up.

  "It was nothing at all to do," she declared. "I think you might try it,Dimple. I'll tell you what we'll do: let's bring our dolls to-morrow,and go up there and play. I'm sure if I had a pretty place like this, Ishould be glad if two little girls, like us, could come and enjoy it.Ah, Dimple, you don't know how fine it is on that upper porch. It wouldbe the finest place in the world to play in."

  The idea took such possession of her that the next morning she broachedthe subject again.

  "I'll ask mamma," said Dimple, at last consenting with this proviso. ButMrs. Dallas had gone out to spend the morning with a friend, and finallyFlorence's persuasions overcame Dimple's scruples, and with Celestineand Rubina they set forth.

  At first Florence was contented to play on the corner porch, but thememory of the day before was too much for her, and she again climbed tothe upper porch. "Do come up, Dimple," she coaxed. "You've no idea howfine it is, with the tree all around. It's just like a nest," and Dimpledecided that she would try it too.

  "Wait, we mustn't leave the dolls," Florence said. "I wish we had apiece of string. See if you can find a piece, Dimple."

  After much searching Dimple hunted up an end of rope, which she found bythe kitchen shed, and brought around. "Will this do?" she asked.

  "Finely. Can you throw it so I can catch it?"

  "I don't know. Maybe I could if I tied a stone to it. Don't let it hityou, Florence."

  After several attempts the rope was landed, and when the dolls werefastened to it, they were drawn safely up, and then Dimple made herascent successfully.

  "It is nice," she declared. "Isn't it fun to be here, where no one cansee us? I wonder if that window will open." She gave the shutters alittle shake and lo! they offered no resistance, but opened easily, and,the latch being out of order, the window, too, yielded to their efforts,and before they knew it, they were inside.

  "Now we're here, we might as well go through the house," said Florence."And you can show me the portrait."

  They proceeded stealthily through rooms whose furniture was swathed insheets to keep away the dust. It all looked rather bare and desolateupstairs in the dim rooms, but it was better below, especially in thedining-room, where a big bay window let in a flood of light when theinside shutters were opened.

  "Let's pretend it's our house, and keep house really," Florenceexclaimed. "Here is a broom and a duster. I'll sweep and you can dust.Then if we can find some dishes, we'll set the table. I wish we hadbrought something to eat. Oh, Dimple, you haven't shown me the portraityet; where is it?"

  "In the library. Come, we'll go there now."

  "My, but it's dark in here!" Florence exclaimed, as they entered theroom. "Let us open the shutters a little so we can see the picture."

  This they managed to do, shutting the window carefully.

  "It seems dark still," Dimple remarked. "I wonder what makes this such adark room." Just then they heard a mighty crash and both started, thenclung to each other, whispering, "What's that?"

  "It is thunder," said Dimple, when a second peal was heard. "Oh, howdark it is. Come, Florence; we must hurry. Open the window and shut theshutters as quick as you can and I'll go to the dining-room. We mustleave everything as we found it."

  "Don't leave me," Florence implored. "I can't bear to be alone when thelightning flashes so." And together they fastened the shutters and thewindows, then ran to the porch, where they had left their dolls.

  An angry gust was blowing the dust about furiously. The trees swayed andcreaked, lashing their branches about in a very terrifying way. Thethunder growled and muttered, while sharp flashes of lightning zigzaggedacross the sky almost incessantly.

  "We would never dare to go down the tree while it is blowing so," saidFlorence, after they had surveyed the scene for a moment in silence.

  "But it is beginning to rain. Oh, dear! What shall we do? It's comingdown a perfect torrent. Come back, Florence; we'll have to go inside,"cried Dimple. And snatching up their dolls, they retreated into thehouse in no enviable state of mind, between fear of the tempest andalarm at being obliged to stay alone where they were.


  "We might as well make ourselves comfortable," Florence said at last."Suppose we go down to the library or the dining-room. We can open theinside shutters, and it won't seem so gloomy. I'd rather see thelightning than stay up here in the dark."

  "Oh, dear! I wish we hadn't come at all," sighed Dimple. "I wish we weresafe at home. Mamma will be so worried, for she won't know where we are.I do wish we hadn't come."

  Florence was very uncomfortable, but she tried to brave it out."Anyhow," she said, "it's a great deal better than to be out in thestorm. I am sure auntie will be very glad when she knows we were safehere, and it isn't as if you had come to a perfectly strange house. TheAtkinsons are your friends, and they won't mind a bit our coming herefor shelter. I know they won't. They'd be very hard-hearted if they didmind."

  "Yes, I s'pose so," returned Dimple, somewhat comforted.

  "Very likely your mamma isn't bothering at all about us," Florence wenton. "She probably hasn't gone home herself, on account of the storm."

  They had been conversing together at the top of the stairs, and now madetheir way to the dining-room, where, after opening the shutters, theystood looking out at the rain. The peals of thunder had died away intodistant mutterings, but it was still raining hard.

  "Somehow we always get into trouble when it rains," Dimple remarked.

  "Don't let's talk about that," returned Florence. "See how the raindropsdance up and down. Little water fairies they are. Don't they look as ifthey were having a good time?"

  "Yes; but I'm getting hungry. I wonder if it isn't most dinner time. Doyou suppose it will rain all afternoon, Florence?"

  "I don't know. If it holds up we'll have to run between the drops."

  "But how can we get out? We could never climb down that sopping wettree, and we would be very wicked to leave any part of the house downhere unfastened. Some one might see us and try to get in."

  They lapsed into a grave silence which was presently broken by astartled "What's that?" from Dimple. She heard a sound like the click ofa key turning in a latch. They listened fearfully, as the sound wasfollowed by the shutting of a door, and the noise of footsteps along thehall. The two girls looked at each other. "Let's hide," whisperedFlorence, but before they had decided what to do, a man was seenstanding in the doorway. It was Mr. Atkinson.

  "Well, well, well," he exclaimed, "where did you little girls come from?You came in out of the rain, I suppose, but how did you manage it? Why,Eleanor, is it you? I declare, I didn't know you. It is fortunate youmanaged to escape the storm; it was a hard one."

  Dimple stood very much confused, her color coming and going, and hereyes very bright. But she summoned up courage to make the confession:"We did come in out of the rain, Mr. Atkinson, but no one let us in, andwe didn't happen to come here on account of the storm."

  "You didn't! Come here, then, and tell me about it." He drew her to hisside and looked down at her very kindly.

  She dropped her eyes and hung her head in confusion, but she went on,"We,--we thought it was so pretty here, and--and we thought you wouldn'tmind if we came and brought our dolls and sat on the porch a littlewhile; we didn't think you'd care if we were very good and didn't touchanything. Then it was so easy to climb the tree and get on the otherporch, and when we got there,--why I wanted to show Florence theportrait of your little girl, and we did not have to force the shutterat all; it opened just as easy, and so did the window; and we wentdownstairs, and while we were looking at the portrait the storm came upand we were afraid to climb down the tree; it was blowing about so, andwe didn't like to go out any other way and leave the windows downstairsunfastened. So--we stayed."

  Mr. Atkinson listened quietly. "So you were housebreakers. Don't youknow that's a prison offence? Burglary is a pretty serious crime." Helooked very serious, and Dimple did not see the twinkle in his eyes.Her own grew round with horror.

  "Oh!" she gasped. "Oh! we didn't mean--" The tears began to gather, andthe child's lips quivered. She was overcome with dismay. "I am so sorry,so dreadfully sorry," she quavered.

  Mr. Atkinson put his hand on her sunny head. "There, dear, never mind,"he said, "you were a very innocent pair of housebreakers, and you are avery brave and honest little girl to tell me the truth about it, whenyou might easily have allowed me to think it happened another way. Ofcourse, on general principles, it isn't right to break into any one'shouse, but I think you may have done me a good turn by letting me knowabout that weak place upstairs, and you may have prevented a real thieffrom breaking in. You see, I come down from the city every Saturday tolook after things while my wife and son are away, and I am glad Ihappened to be here just now. Let us forget all about the unpleasantpart of this, and make ourselves comfortable. You are my guests. Who isyour little friend?"

  "My cousin Florence."

  "Ah, yes. I am glad to see you, Florence. Now don't you think it wouldbe wise, Eleanor, if I were to speak to your father over the 'phone, andlet him know you are safe?"

  "Oh, yes, thank you. Is there a telephone in the house?"

  "Yes, and I can call up your father at his office. You can speak to himyourself, if you like. What time does he go home to dinner?"

  "About half-past one o'clock."

  Mr. Atkinson consulted his watch. "We shall catch him, I think." And ina few minutes Dimple, listening, heard her father's voice in reply toMr. Atkinson's "Hallo! is that you, Dallas?"

  "Don't you want to speak to him yourself?" asked Mr. Atkinson, when hehad told Mr. Dallas that Dimple and her cousin were safely housed. Helifted the little girl up so she could call her father. "I'm safe here,papa, and so is Florence," she said; "please tell mamma."

  The answer came, "I will, daughter; I'm glad you are in good hands. I'lltell mamma to send Bubbles for you when it has stopped raining."

  "Let them stay till I take them home," spoke up Mr. Atkinson. "I cantake care of them, and it will be a great pleasure to have them here."

  "Very well, if you like. I shall be satisfied to have them in such safehands. Good-bye," came Mr. Dallas's parting words.

  "Good-bye," and Mr. Atkinson hung up the receiver, and turned to hisguests. "Now, young ladies, I suspect you are hungry. I am, for one.Suppose we see what we can find to eat." He took out his keys andunlocked the pantry door. The girls looked at each other. There weredelightful possibilities before them.

  "I'll forage in here," continued Mr. Atkinson, "while you set the table.You'll find dishes in there." And he pointed to a china-closet.

  This was such an unexpected outcome of the morning's affair, that thetwo little girls retired behind the door and hugged each other, and thenbriskly went to work to set the table, upon which Mr. Atkinson placedvarious articles.

  "I keep a lot of such truck in here," he told them. "So, in case I gethungry, I can find a bite to eat. Do you like sardines or canned salmonbest?"

  "Sardines!" exclaimed both the girls.

  "That settles it. We haven't any ice, or we could have some lemonade.We'd better have chocolate. What do you say?"

  "It would be very nice, but we have no fire."

  "Fire enough. See here." He turned on the gas, and lighted a littlestove over which the chocolate was made, condensed milk being at handfor use.

  "Now, let me see. I've some ginger-snaps somewhere, and some marmalade.This is rather a mixed meal, I am thinking, but it will keep us fromstarving."

  "I should think so," said Florence, surveying the table. "I think it isfine."

  "And we can wash the dishes afterward. Will you let us?" asked Dimple.

  "I shall be charmed to have you," Mr. Atkinson assured her. "It was oneof the points upon which I felt uncertain. I confess to disliking, verymuch, that part of the business; and now you relieve my anxiety."

  They made a merry meal of it, and became very well acquainted with theirhost before it was over. He told them funny stories and kept themlaughing so that they were a long time getting their appetitessatisfied, and as it had become much cooler, Bubbles appeared with wrap
sfor them before they had finished with the dishes.

  "We have had such a lovely, lovely time," said Dimple, as she raised abeaming face to Mr. Atkinson. "You know just what to do to make littlegirls have a good time, don't you?"

  He stooped and kissed her. "I had a little girl once," he replied,gravely.

  Dimple put her two arms closely around his neck. She felt so very, verysorry when she remembered pretty little Stella. "I'd like to be yourlittle girl, if I had to be any one's but papa's and mamma's," shewhispered.

  "Thank you, dear child, I appreciate that. It is a very greatcompliment," he answered, slowly. "I want you two little girls to comeover whenever you can. I am always here on Saturday afternoons. Will youcome to see me often?"

  "If mamma will let us. I'm afraid maybe she will not, because we werenaughty about coming when we had no right to."

  "Well, we'll see how we can manage it. I will tell your father aboutit, myself, or, better still, I will walk home with you, and you cantell your story to your mother, and let me beg pardon for you. How willthat do?"

  Dimple's eyes spoke her thanks, and she turned to Florence who answeredwith a satisfied smile.

  And so by Mr. Atkinson's kind request the culprits were forgiven, andwere promised that they should go again since Mr. Atkinson really wantedthem. "And you must feel at liberty to play about the grounds all youchoose," he told the girls. "They can run about, and sit on the porchesand do as they please, so long as they do not trample the flower-beds,or get into any mischief," he said to Mrs. Dallas.

  "We wouldn't hurt anything for the world," put in Florence and Dimple,eagerly. And they bade their good friend farewell, feeling very humbleand thankful that matters had turned out so well for them.

  "We don't deserve it, and I feel dreadfully ashamed of myself," saidFlorence, meekly.

  "I think Mr. Atkinson put our heads in the fire," said Dimple, soberly.

  "What do you mean?" her mother asked.

  "Why, isn't that what the Bible says when any one does something verykind to you after you have been mean to him?"

  Mrs. Dallas laughed. "You mean he heaped coals of fire on your head;that is the expression the Bible uses."

  "It's a funny one," Dimple responded, thoughtfully. "Anyhow, mamma, Ishall never, never try to break into any one's house again."

  "I hope not."

  "I really meant to ask you if we could go over there, mamma, but you hadgone out. We were in a dreadful trouble for a while."

  "Yes, I know, dear. One very little wrong beginning sometimes leads to agreat deal of trouble; even grown people find that out."

  "Do they? It always seems as if you must know everything, mamma."

  She smiled and shook her head. Thus ended this incident, but neitherDimple nor Florence ever forgot it.