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Updated: June 20, 2025
Overtheway looked back at the fire, to which, indeed, she had been talking for some time past. "A child's story?" she thought. "A tale of the blind, wilful folly of childhood? Ah, my soul! Alas, my grown-up friends! Does the moral belong to childhood alone?
The birds were right, Spring had come, and there were flowers flowers for Mrs. Overtheway. Ida was a very quiet, obedient little girl, as a general rule; indeed, in her lonely life she had small temptation to pranks or mischief of any kind.
But she went sadly on with some paper she was cutting into shapes. She was in low spirits this morning. Comfort was at hand, however. In the course of the day there came a message from Mrs. Overtheway, asking Nurse to allow Ida to go to tea with her that evening. And Nurse consented. Ida could hardly believe her senses when she found herself by the little old lady's own fireside.
She had not quite understood the little old lady's speech; indeed, she did not understand many things that Mrs. Overtheway said, but they were very satisfactory companions for all that. "Yes, it is about myself. And since there is a dear child who cares about old Mrs.
"Well, I'm very glad. It would have been too rude. And you know I don't know how it was, for I am so fond of stories; I like nothing so well." "Well, shall I try again?" said Mrs. Overtheway. "Perhaps I may find a more amusing one, and if it does put you to sleep, it won't do any harm. Indeed, I think the doctor will say I'm very good company for you." "You are very good!
She crossed the street, and seemed to be coming to the house. Then the bell rang, and in she came. Ida's curiosity became intense, and was not lessened by the fact that the little old lady did not come to her, but stayed below talking with some one. The old gentleman had not returned, so it must be Nurse. At last the conversation came to an end, and Mrs. Overtheway came upstairs.
She lay still for a few moments to make quite sure, and then asked in a voice so faint that it surprised herself: "Has Mrs. Overtheway gone to church?" On which, to her great astonishment, Nurse burst into tears. For this was the first reasonable sentence that poor Ida had spoken for several days.
"I am only a little girl," said Ida, as she pressed her face sadly to the cold window-pane. "I am only a little girl, and very sad, you know, because Papa was drowned at sea; but Mrs. Overtheway is very old, and always happy, and so I love her." And in this there was both philosophy and truth.
Overtheway! Do you think Papa will ever come home?" "My child! my dear child!" sobbed the little old lady. "I think he will." ... "And he is alive he is coming home!" Ida cried, as she recounted Mrs. Overtheway's story to Nurse, who knew the principal fact of it already. "And she told it to me in this way not to frighten me.
Overtheway stroked her head tenderly for some time in silence, and then said, in a gentle voice "I have something to tell you, my dear." "Another story?" Ida asked. "Oh, thank you, if it is another story." The old lady was silent, but at last she said, as if to herself "Perhaps best so," and added: "yes, my love, I will tell you a story." Ida thanked her warmly, and another pause ensued.
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