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"But your garden, I remember how badly you felt to leave that. You can't have a garden in Redding." "No, but I have my little girls. I'd rather have them than a garden, a great deal!" "What does she mean?" asked the Bishop, turning to Mrs. Forcythe. "Her sewing-class," replied Mrs. Forcythe, smiling. "There they are!" cried Mary eagerly. "They're waiting for me.
But the hard mood melted the moment she saw her mother's pale face and feeble smile. "I hope I'm not going to be very ill," said Mrs. Forcythe; "probably it's only that I have tired myself out. You'll have to be 'Mamma' for a day or two, Mary dear. Make Papa as comfortable as you can. See that Frank has his lunch put up for school, and don't let Peter take cold.
This brought her to the gate. The wagon stood waiting to carry them to the railroad, three miles away. Mrs. Forcythe, with the baby in her arms, was just getting in. "Hurry, Mary," called her father. Slowly she opened the gate, slowly shut it. Her father helped her over the wheel. She sat down beside Frank. Mrs. Clapp waved her handkerchief, then put it to her eyes.
Clapp, from behind, reached over and gave her a bunch of fennel. But the fennel only made Mary cry harder. In Redding, she was sure, would be no kind Mrs. Clapp, no "meeting-house seed;" and her sobs grew thicker at the thought. "I observe that your little daughter seems to be distressed," said Bishop Judson, as Mrs. Forcythe led the sobbing Mary down from the gallery at the end of service.
A. F. stood for Anne Forcythe. Now, mother would never see the letters or know any thing about it. Oh dear, oh dear! Mrs. Forcythe's own disappointment was great, for they had all made sure that they should stay. But, like a true mother, she put her share of the grief aside, and thought only of comforting Mary. "Don't feel so badly, dear," she said.
"O mother, I will, indeed I will!" she cried, kissing the pale face; and, only waiting to draw the blind so that the sun should not shine in, she flew downstairs, eager to do all she could to make up for past ill-conduct. The Doctor came. He said Mrs. Forcythe was threatened with fever, and must be kept very quiet for several days.
She was not a woman to give much advice, even to her own child. "Drop in a seed and let it grow," was her motto. "There's that old gingham of yours," she suggested. "You could spare that for one of them, if there were anybody to make it over." "I'll make it!" cried Mary, "only " her, face falling, "I don't know how to cut dresses." "I'll cut it for you if you like," said Mrs. Forcythe quietly.
Clapp used to scold me, and say I 'gobbled' my darns?" "You mustn't 'gobble' before the seamen's daughters," said Mrs. Forcythe, smiling. "It will be a capital lesson for you to try to teach what you haven't quite learned yourself." Punctual as the clock Mrs. Wallis appeared on Saturday, and bore the unwilling Mary away to the sewing-school. Mrs. Forcythe watched them from the window.
The people they met were strangers; and, altogether, the effect of Mary's walk was to send her back more homesick than ever for Valley Hill. By Friday night the little parsonage was in order. Mrs. Forcythe was a capital manager. She planned and contrived, turned and twisted and made things comfortable in a surprising way.
It was the beginning of a better understanding between her and her new home; and there is a great deal in beginnings, even though they may work slowly toward their ends. By the close of the week Mrs. Forcythe was downstairs again, weak and pale, but able to sit in her chair and direct things, which Mary felt to be a great comfort. The parishioners began to call.
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