The Little Colonel Read online

  CHAPTER IV.

  Mom Beck was busy putting lunch on the table when the Little Colonellooked in at the kitchen door.

  So she did not see a little tramp, carrying her shoes in one hand, and abasket in the other, who paused there a moment. But when she took up thepan of beaten biscuit she was puzzled to find that several were missing.

  "It beats my time," she said, aloud. "The parrot couldn't have reachedthem, an' Lloyd an' the dog have been in the pa'lah all mawnin'.Somethin' has jus' natch'ly done sperrited 'em away."

  Fritz was gravely licking his lips, and the Little Colonel had her mouthfull, when they suddenly made their appearance on the front porch.

  Aunt Sally Tyler gave a little shriek, and stopped rocking.

  "Why, Lloyd Sherman!" gasped her mother, in dismay. "Where have youbeen? I thought you were with Becky all the time. I was sure I heard yousinging out there a little while ago."

  "I've been to see my gran'fathah," said the child, speaking very fast."I made mud pies on his front 'teps, an' we both of us got mad, an'I throwed mud on him, an' he gave me some 'trawberries an' all theseflowers, an' brought me home on Maggie Boy."

  She stopped out of breath. Mrs. Tyler and her niece exchanged astonishedglances.

  "But, baby, how could you disgrace mother so by going up there lookinglike a dirty little beggar?"

  "He didn't care," replied Lloyd, calmly. "He made me promise to comeagain, no mattah if you all did tell me not to."

  Just then Becky announced that lunch was ready, and carried the childaway to make her presentable.

  To Lloyd's great surprise she was not put to bed, but was allowed to goto the table as soon as she was dressed. It was not long until she hadtold every detail of the morning's experience.

  While she was taking her afternoon nap, the two ladies sat out on theporch, gravely discussing all she had told them.

  "It doesn't seem right for me to allow her to go there," said Mrs.Sherman, "after the way papa has treated us. I can never forgive himfor all the terrible things he has said about Jack, and I know Jack cannever be friends with him on account of what he has said about me. Hehas been so harsh and unjust that I don't want my little Lloyd to haveanything to do with him. I wouldn't for worlds have him think that Iencouraged her going there."

  "Well, yes, I know," answered her aunt, slowly. "But there are somethings to consider besides your pride, Elizabeth. There's the childherself, you know. Now that Jack has lost so much, and your prospectsare so uncertain, you ought to think of her interests. It would be apity for Locust to go to strangers when it has been in your family forso many generations. That's what it certainly will do unless somethingturns up to interfere. Old Judge Woodard told me himself that yourfather had made a will, leaving everything he owns to some medicalinstitution. Imagine Locust being turned into a sanitarium or atraining-school for nurses!"

  "Dear old place!" said Mrs. Sherman, with tears in her eyes. "No oneever had a happier childhood than I passed under these old locusts.Every tree seems like a friend. I would be glad for Lloyd to enjoy theplace as I did."

  "I'd let her go as much as she pleases, Elizabeth. She's so much likethe old Colonel that they ought to understand each other, and get alongcapitally. Who knows, it might end in you all making up some day."

  Mrs. Sherman raised her head haughtily. "No, indeed, Aunt Sally. I canforgive and forget much, but you are greatly mistaken if you think I cango to such lengths as that. He closed his doors against me with a curse,for no reason on earth but that the man I loved was born north of theMason and Dixon line. There never was a nobler man living than Jack,and papa would have seen it if he hadn't deliberately shut his eyes andrefused to look at him. He was just prejudiced and stubborn."

  Aunt Sally said nothing, but her thoughts took the shape of Mom Beck'sdeclaration, "The Lloyds is all stubborn."

  "I wouldn't go through his gate now if he got down on his knees andbegged me," continued Elizabeth, hotly.

  "It's too bad," exclaimed her aunt; "he was always so perfectly devotedto 'little daughter,' as he used to call you. I don't like him myself.We never could get along together at all, because he is so high-strungand overbearing. But I know it would have made your poor mother mightyunhappy if she could have foreseen all this."

  Elizabeth sat with the tears dropping down on her little white hands,as her aunt proceeded to work on her sympathies in every way she couldthink of.

  Presently Lloyd came out all fresh and rosy from her long nap, and wentto play in the shade of the great beech-trees that guarded the cottage.

  "I never saw a child with such influence over animals," said her mother,as Lloyd came around the house with the parrot perched on the broom shewas carrying. "She'll walk right up to any strange dog and make friendswith it, no matter how savage-looking it is. And there's Polly, so oldand cross that she screams and scolds dreadfully if any of us go nearher. But Lloyd dresses her up in doll's clothes, puts paper bonnets onher, and makes her just as uncomfortable as she pleases. Look! that isone of her favourite amusements."

  The Little Colonel squeezed the parrot into a tiny doll carriage, andbegan to trundle it back and forth as fast as she could run.

  "Ha! ha!" screamed the bird. "Polly is a lady! Oh, Lordy! I'm so happy!"

  "She caught that from the washerwoman," laughed Mrs. Sherman. "I shouldthink the poor thing would be dizzy from whirling around so fast."

  "Quit that, chillun; stop yo' fussin'," screamed Polly, as Lloyd grabbedher up and began to pin a shawl around her neck. She clucked angrily,but never once attempted to snap at the dimpled fingers that squeezedher tight. Suddenly, as if her patience was completely exhausted, sheuttered a disdainful "Oh, pshaw!" and flew up into an old cedar-tree.

  "Mothah! Polly won't play with me any moah," shrieked the child, flyinginto a rage. She stamped and scowled and grew red in the face. Then shebegan beating the trunk of the tree with the old broom she had beencarrying.

  "Did you ever see anything so much like the old Colonel?" said Mrs.Tyler, in astonishment. "I wonder if she acted that way this morning."

  "I don't doubt it at all," answered Mrs. Sherman. "She'll be over it injust a moment. These little spells never last long."

  Mrs. Sherman was right. In a few moments Lloyd came up the walk,singing.

  "I wish you'd tell me a pink story," she said, coaxingly, as she leanedagainst her mother's knee.

  "Not now, dear; don't you see that I am busy talking to Aunt Sally? Runand ask Mom Beck for one."

  "What on earth does she mean by a pink story?" asked Mrs. Tyler.

  "Oh, she is so fond of colours. She is always asking for a pink or ablue or a white story. She wants everything in the story tinged withwhatever colour she chooses,--dresses, parasols, flowers, sky, even theicing on the cakes and the paper on the walls."

  "What an odd little thing she is!" exclaimed Mrs. Tyler. "Isn't she lotsof company for you?"

  She need not have asked that question if she could have seen them thatevening, sitting together in the early twilight.

  Lloyd was in her mother's lap, leaning her head against her shoulderas they rocked slowly back and forth on the dark porch.

  There was an occasional rattle of wheels along the road, a twitter ofsleepy birds, a distant croaking of frogs.

  Mom Beck's voice floated in from the kitchen, where she was steppingbriskly around.

  "Oh, the clouds hang heavy, an' it's gwine to rain. Fa'well, my dyin' friends,"

  she sang.

  Lloyd put her arms closer around her mother's neck.

  "Let's talk about Papa Jack," she said. "What you 'pose he's doin' now,'way out West?"

  Elizabeth, feeling like a tired, homesick child herself, held her close,and was comforted as she listened to the sweet little voice talkingabout the absent father.

  The moon came up after awhile, and streamed in through the vines ofthe porch. The hazel eyes slowly closed as Elizabeth began to hum anold-time negro lullaby.

  "Wondah if she'll run
away to-morrow," whispered Mom Beck, as she cameout to carry her in the house.

  "Who'd evah think now, lookin' at her pretty, innocent face, that shecould be so naughty? Bless her little soul!"

  The kind old black face was laid lovingly a moment against the fair,soft cheek of the Little Colonel. Then she lifted her in her strongarms, and carried her gently away to bed.