Chapter 1 - Two Girls

by Louisa May Alcott

　　Rose sat all alone in the big best parlor, with her little handkerchieflaid ready to catch the first tear, for she was thinking of her troubles,and a shower was expected. She had retired to this room as a good place inwhich to be miserable; for it was dark and still, full of ancientfurniture, sombre curtains, and hung all around with portraits of solemnold gentlemen in wigs, severe-nosed ladies in top-heavy caps, and staringchildren in little bob-tailed coats or short-waisted frocks. It was anexcellent place for woe; and the fitful spring rain that pattered on thewindow-pane seemed to sob, "Cry away: I'm with you."Rose really did have some cause to be sad; for she had no mother, and hadlately lost her father also, which left her no home but this with hergreat-aunts. She had been with them only a week, and, though the dear oldladies had tried their best to make her happy, they had not succeeded verywell, for she was unlike any child they had ever seen, and they felt verymuch as if they had the care of a low-spirited butterfly.They had given her the freedom of the house, and for a day or two she hadamused herself roaming all over it, for it was a capital old mansion, andwas full of all manner of odd nooks, charming rooms, and mysteriouspassages. Windows broke out in unexpected places, little balconies overhungthe garden most romantically, and there was a long upper hall full ofcuriosities from all parts of the world; for the Campbells had beensea-captains for generations.Aunt Plenty had even allowed Rose to rummage in her great china closet aspicy retreat, rich in all the "goodies" that children love; but Roseseemed to care little for these toothsome temptations; and when that hopefailed, Aunt Plenty gave up in despair.Gentle Aunt Peace had tried all sorts of pretty needle-work, and planned adoll's wardrobe that would have won the heart of even an older child. ButRose took little interest in pink satin hats and tiny hose, though shesewed dutifully till her aunt caught her wiping tears away with the trainof a wedding-dress, and that discovery put an end to the sewing society.Then both old ladies put their heads together and picked out the modelchild of the neighbourhood to come and play with their niece. But AriadneBlish was the worst failure of all, for Rose could not bear the sight ofher, and said she was so like a wax doll she longed to give her a pinch andsee if she would squeak. So prim little Ariadne was sent home, and theexhausted aunties left Rose to her own devices for a day or two.Bad weather and a cold kept her in-doors, and she spent most of her time inthe library where her father's books were stored. Here she read a greatdeal, cried a little, and dreamed many of the innocent bright dreams inwhich imaginative children find such comfort and delight. This suited herbetter than anything else, but it was not good for her, and she grew pale,heavy-eyed and listless, though Aunt Plenty gave her iron enough to make acooking-stove, and Aunt Peace petted her like a poodle.Seeing this, the poor aunties racked their brains for a new amusement anddetermined to venture a bold stroke, though not very hopeful of itssuccess. They said nothing to Rose about their plan for this Saturdayafternoon, but let her alone till the time came for the grand surprise,little dreaming that the odd child would find pleasure for herself in amost unexpected quarter.Before she had time to squeeze out a single tear a sound broke thestillness, making her prick up her ears. It was only the soft twitter of abird, but it seemed to be a peculiarly gifted bird, for while she listenedthe soft twitter changed to a lively whistle, then a trill, a coo, a chirp,and ended in a musical mixture of all the notes, as if the bird burst outlaughing. Rose laughed also, and, forgetting her woes, jumped up, sayingeagerly"It is a mocking-bird. Where is it?"Running down the long hall, she peeped out at both doors, but saw nothingfeathered except a draggle-tailed chicken under a burdock leaf. Shelistened again, and the sound seemed to be in the house. Away she went,much excited by the chase, and following the changeful song, it led her tothe china-closet door."In there? How funny!" she said. But when she entered, not a bird appearedexcept the everlastingly kissing swallows on the Canton china that linedthe shelves. All of a sudden Rose's face brightened, and, softly openingthe slide, she peered into the kitchen. But the music had stopped, and allshe saw was a girl in a blue apron scrubbing the hearth. Rose stared abouther for a minute, and then asked abruptly"Did you hear that mocking-bird?""I should call it a phebe-bird," answered the girl, looking up with atwinkle in her black eyes."Where did it go?""It is here still.""Where?""In my throat. Do you want to hear it?""Oh, yes! I'll come in." And Rose crept through the slide to the wide shelfon the other side, being too hurried and puzzled to go round by the door.The girl wiped her hands, crossed her feet on the little island of carpetwhere she was stranded in a sea of soap-suds, and then, sure enough, out ofher slender throat came the swallow's twitter, the robin's whistle, theblue-jay's call, the thrush's song, the wood-dove's coo, and many anotherfamiliar note, all ending as before with the musical ecstacy of a bobolinksinging and swinging among the meadow grass on a bright June day.Rose was so astonished that she nearly fell off her perch, and when thelittle concert was over clapped her hands delightedly."Oh, it was lovely! Who taught you?""The birds," answered the girl, with a smile, as she fell to work again."It is very wonderful! I can sing, but nothing half so fine as that. Whatis your name, please?""Phebe Moore.""I've heard of phebe-birds; but I don't believe the real ones could dothat," laughed Rose, adding, as she watched with interest the scattering ofdabs of soft soap over the bricks, "May I stay and see you work? It is verylonely in the parlor.""Yes, indeed, if you want to," answered Phebe, wringing out her cloth in acapable sort of way that impressed Rose very much."It must be fun to swash the water round and dig out the soap. I'd love todo it, only aunt wouldn't like it, I suppose," said Rose, quite taken withthe new employment."You'd soon get tired, so you'd better keep tidy and look on.""I suppose you help your mother a good deal?""I haven't got any folks.""Why, where do you live, then?""I'm going to live here, I hope. Debby wants some one to help round, andI've come to try for a week.""I hope you will stay, for it is very dull," said Rose, who had taken asudden fancy to this girl, who sung like a bird and worked like a woman."Hope I shall; for I'm fifteen now, and old enough to earn my own living.You have come to stay a spell, haven't you?" asked Phebe, looking up at herguest and wondering how life could be dull to a girl who wore a silk frock,a daintily frilled apron, a pretty locket, and had her hair tied up with avelvet snood."Yes, I shall stay till my uncle comes. He is my guardian now, and I don'tknow what he will do with me. Have you a guardian?""My sakes, no! I was left on the poor-house steps a little mite of a baby,and Miss Rogers took a liking to me, so I've been there ever since. But sheis dead now, and I take care of myself.""How interesting! It is like Arabella Montgomery in the 'Gypsy's Child.'Did you ever read that sweet story?" asked Rose, who was fond of tales offound-lings, and had read many."I don't have any books to read, and all the spare time I get I run offinto the woods; that rests me better than stories," answered Phebe, as shefinished one job and began on another.Rose watched her as she got out a great pan of beans to look over, andwondered how it would seem to have life all work and no play. PresentlyPhebe seemed to think it was her turn to ask questions, and said, wistfully"You've had lots of schooling, I suppose?""Oh, dear me, yes! I've been at boarding school nearly a year, and I'malmost dead with lessons. The more I got, the more Miss Power gave me, andI was so miserable that I 'most cried my eyes out. Papa never gave me hardthings to do, and he always taught me so pleasantly I loved to study. Oh,we were so happy and so fond of one another! But now he is gone, and I amleft all alone."The tear that would not come when Rose sat waiting for it came now of itsown accord two of them in fact and rolled down her cheeks, telling the taleof love and sorrow better than any words could do it.For a minute there was no sound in the kitchen but the little daughter'ssobbing and the sympathetic patter of the rain. Phebe stopped rattling herbeans from one pan to another, and her eyes were full of pity as theyrested on the curly head bent down on Rose's knee, for she saw that theheart under the pretty locket ached with its loss, and the dainty apron wasused to dry sadder tears than any she had ever shed.Somehow, she felt more contented with her brown calico gown andblue-checked pinafore; envy changed to compassion; and if she had dared shewould have gone and hugged her afflicted guest.Fearing that might not be considered proper, she said, in her cheery voice"I'm sure you ain't all alone with such a lot of folks belonging to you,and all so rich and clever. You'll be petted to pieces, Debby says, becauseyou are the only girl in the family."Phebe's last words made Rose smile in spite of her tears, and she lookedout from behind her apron with an April face, saying in a tone of comicdistress"That's one of my troubles! I've got six aunts, and they all want me, and Idon't know any of them very well. Papa named this place the Aunt-hill, andnow I see why."Phebe laughed with her as she said encouragingly,"Everyone calls it so, and it's a real good name, for all the Mrs.Campbells live handy by, and keep coming up to see the old ladies.""I could stand the aunts, but there are dozens of cousins, dreadful boysall of them, and I detest boys! Some of them came to see me last Wednesday,but I was lying down, and when auntie came to call me I went under thequilt and pretended to be asleep. I shall have to see them some time, but Ido dread it so." And Rose gave a shudder, for, having lived alone with herinvalid father, she knew nothing of boys, and considered them a species ofwild animal."Oh! I guess you'll like 'em. I've seen 'em flying round when they comeover from the Point, sometimes in their boats and sometimes on horseback.If you like boats and horses, you'll enjoy yourself first-rate.""But I don't! I'm afraid of horses, and boats make me ill, and I hateboys!" And poor Rose wrung her hands at the awful prospect before her. Oneof these horrors alone she could have borne, but all together were too muchfor her, and she began to think of a speedy return to the detested school.Phebe laughed at her woe till the beans danced in the pan, but tried tocomfort her by suggesting a means of relief."Perhaps your uncle will take you away where there ain't any boys. Debbysays he is a real kind man, and always bring heaps of nice things when hecomes.""Yes, but you see that is another trouble, for I don't know Uncle Alec atall. He hardly ever came to see us, though he sent me pretty things veryoften. Now I belong to him, and shall have to mind him, till I am eighteen.I may not like him a bit, and I fret about it all the time.""Well, I wouldn't borrow trouble, but have a real good time. I'm sure Ishould think I was in clover if I had folks and money, and nothing to dobut enjoy myself," began Phebe, but got no further, for a sudden rush andtumble outside made them both jump."It's thunder," said Phebe."It's a circus!" cried Rose, who from her elevated perch had caughtglimpses of a gay cart of some sort and several ponies with flying manesand tails.The sound died away, and the girls were about to continue their confidenceswhen old Debby appeared, looking rather cross and sleepy after her nap."You are wanted in the parlor, Miss Rose.""Has anybody come?""Little girls shouldn't ask questions, but do as they are bid," was allDebby would answer."I do hope it isn't Aunt Myra; she always scares me out of my wits askinghow my cough is, and groaning over me as if I was going to die," said Rose,preparing to retire the way she came, for the slide, being cut for theadmission of bouncing Christmas turkeys and puddings, was plenty largeenough for a slender girl."Guess you'll wish it was Aunt Myra when you see who has come. Don't neverlet me catch you coming into my kitchen that way again, or I'll shut you upin the big b'iler," growled Debby, who thought it her duty to snub childrenon all occasions.