IX.
OCT.10.
WE have very sad news from Aunty.She says my Uncle is quite broken down with some obscure disease that has been creeping stealthily along for months.All his physicians agree that he must give up his business and try the effect of a year's rest.Dr.Elliott proposes his going to Europe, which seems to me about as formidable as going to the next world.Aunty makes the best she can of it, but she says the thought of being separated from Uncle a whole year is dreadful Ipray for her day and night, that this wild project may be given up.
Why, he would be on the ocean ever so many weeks, exposed to all the discomforts of narrow quarters and poor food, and that just as winter is drawing nigh!
OCT.12.~Aunty writes that the voyage to Europe has been decided on, and that Dr.Elliott is to accompany Uncle, travel with him, amuse him, and bring him home a well man.I hope Dr.E.'s power to amuse may exist somewhere, but must own it was in a most latent form when Ihad the pleasure of knowing him.Poor Aunty! How much better it would be for her to go with Uncle! There are the children, to be sure.
Well, I hope Uncle may be the better for this great undertaking, but I don't like the idea of it.
OCT.15.-Another letter from Aunty, and new plans! The Dr.is to stay at home, Aunty is to go with Uncle, and we-mother and myself-are to take possession of the house and children during their absence! In other words, all this is to be if we say amen.Could anything be more frightful? To refuse would be selfish and cruel.If we consent Ithrust myself under Dr.Elliott's very nose.
OCT.16.-Mother is surprised that I can hesitate one instant.She seems to have forgotten all about Dr.E.She says we can easily find a family to take this house for a year, and that she is delighted to do anything for Aunty that can be done.
Nov.4.-Here we are, the whole thing settled.Uncle and Aunty started a week ago, and we are monarchs of all we survey, and this is a great deal.I am determined that mother shall not be worn out with these children, although of course I could not them without her advice and help.It is to be hoped they won't all have the measles in a body, or anything of that sort; I am sure it would be annoying to Dr.E.to come here now.
Nov.25.-Of course the baby must go on teething if only to have the doctor sent for to lance his gums.I told mother I was sure I could not be present when this was being done, so, though she looked surprised, and said people should accustom themselves to such things, she volunteered to hold baby herself.
Nov.26.-The baby was afraid of mother, not being used to her, so she sent for me.As I entered the room she gave him to me with an apology for doing so, since I shrank from witnessing the operation.What must Dr.E.think I am made of if I can't bear to see a child's gums lanced? However, it is my own fault that he thinks me such a coward, for I made mother think me one.It was very embarrassing to hold baby and have the doctor's face so close to mine.I really wonder mother should not see how awkwardly I am situated here.
Nov.27.-We have a good many visitors, friends of Uncle and Aunty.
How uninteresting most people are! They all say the same thing, namely, how strange that Aunty had courage to undertake such a voyage, and to leave her children, etc., etc., etc., and what was Dr.
Elliott thinking of to let them go, etc, etc., etc.
Dr.Embury called to-day, with a pretty little fresh creature, his new wife, who hangs on his arm like a work-bag.He is Dr.Elliott's intimate friend, and spoke of him very warmly, and so did his wife, who says she has known him always, as they were born and brought up in the same village.I wonder he did not marry her himself, instead of leaving her for Dr.Embury!
She says he, Dr.Elliott, I mean, was the most devoted son she ever saw, and that he deserves his present success because he has made such sacrifices for his parents.I never met any one whom I liked so well on so short acquaintance-I mean Mrs.Embury, though you might fancy, you poor deluded journal you, that I meant somebody else.
Nov.30.-I have so much to do that I have little time for writing.
The way the children wear out their shoes and stockings, the speed with which their hair grows, the way they bump their heads and pinch their fingers, and the insatiable demand for stories, is something next to miraculous.Not a day passes that somebody doesn't need something bought; that somebody else doesn't choke itself, and that Idon't have to tell stories till I feel my intellect reduced to the size of a pea.If ever I was alive and wide awake, however, it is just now, and in spite of some vague shadows of, I don't know what, Iam very happy indeed.So is dear mother.She and the doctor have become bosom friends He keeps her making beef-tea, scraping lint, and boiling calves feet for jelly, till the house smells like an hospital.
I suppose he thinks me a poor, selfish, frivolous girl, whom nothing would tempt to raise a finger for his invalids.But, of course, I do not care what he thinks.
Dec.4.-Dr.Elliott came this morning to ask mother to go with him to see a child who had met with a horrible accident.She turned pale, and pressed her lips together, but went at once to get ready.Then my long-suppressed wrath burst out.
"How can you ask poor mother to go and see such sights?" I cried.
"You must think her nothing but a stone, if you suppose that after the way in which my father died-""It was indeed most thoughtless in me," he interrupted; "but your mother is such a rare woman, so decided and self-controlled, yet so gentle, so full of tender sympathy, that I hardly know where to look for just the help I need to-day.If you could see this poor child, even you would justify me.""Even you!" you monster of selfishness, heart of stone, floating bubble, "even you would justify it!"How cruel, how unjust, how unforgiving he is!
I rushed out of the room, and cried until I was tired.
