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The mirror never passed out of D. Barbara’s possession, and was never known to leave her hand until her frame, gradually tired out by want of rest, succumbed to the fascination of little St. Francis’s gift and the wisdom of the friendly Moor.
It is not likely that the baby understood aunt Barbara’s funny stories, and wanted to listen,—but this is certain, it stopped crying, and soon closed its eyes and fell into a sweet sleep. When there was silence in the nursery, the noise in the hall sounded all the louder. Mrs.
Such an excellent fit—so loose and easy! “How kind in mother to make them!” he thought. “When could she have had the time.” Marcus was going to rush to the door of Aunt Barbara’s room to thank his mother, when he saw a little note lying on the table. He broke it open and read: “Dear Marcus: It has made me very sad all the week to think you were displeased with me.
Aunt Barbara’s room was in the back building, and the entrance to it was on the first landing to the front stairs. The old lady had chosen that room, when she came to Mrs. Lee’s, because no one had ever occupied it; for she said, “I never did turn anybody out, and I never mean to.”
“Aunt Barbara is not very well this morning; she did not get up as early as usual,” said Mrs. Lee. “Shan’t I go up to see if I can do anything for her?” said Hatty, eagerly. “She will be down soon, I think; but you may go,” said the mother, pleasantly. Hatty ran up stairs, and knocked very gently on Aunt Barbara’s door. “Who is it? What do you want?” answered Aunt Barbara’s voice from within.
Hatty’s example had a great influence on the other children. Meg learned to skip more softly as she passed Aunt Barbara’s door; and Harry never ate an orange without pattering along to Aunt Barbara’s room, to give her a taste.
A little gentleness, a little patience on the part of those who were young, healthy and happy, would have done much to make poor old Aunt Barbara more pleasant and cheerful. Now came an anxious period in Hatty’s home. Mrs. Lee, and a nurse who was hired for the purpose, spent their time in Aunt Barbara’s room, while the Doctor came and went with a troubled, serious air.
The old lady evidently wanted something she could not find in her pocket, and yet did not feel like getting up. Hatty glanced her eyes round the room, and saw Aunt Barbara’s spectacles on the mantel-piece. She jumped up and handed them to her. “You may give me my Bible, if you choose,” said Aunt Barbara, in a pleasanter tone than she had used that morning.
Hatty laid the great Bible on Aunt Barbara’s lap, and for a few moments the old lady seemed nodding; but she soon began to rub her spectacles as if they were not clean, and then she put her hand to her head, and said, “old folks can’t sit and read all day like young ones.”
Meg, with her childlike warble, and even little Harry, felt that he wanted to be like Jesus, and tried to lisp in “sweet accord” his Saviour’s name, blending his baby notes with those that fell from Aunt Barbara’s faltering tongue. How welcome to the father’s ear, as he returned from his daily toil, was that evening hymn!
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