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What Katy Did Next

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"Doctor, I'm not kind at all, and I don't want to be thanked. My desire
to take Katy with me to Europe is purely selfish. I am a lonely person,"
she went on; "I have no mother or sister, and no cousins of my own age.
My brother's profession keeps him at sea; I scarcely ever see him. I
have no one but a couple of old aunts, too feeble in health to travel
with me or to be counted on in case of any emergency. You see, I am a
real case for pity."

Mrs. Ashe spoke gayly, but her brown eyes were dim with tears as she
ended her little appeal. Dr. Carr, who was soft-hearted where women were
concerned, was touched. Perhaps his face showed it, for Mrs. Ashe added
in a more hopeful tone,--

"But I won't tease any more. I know you will not refuse me unless you
think it right and necessary; and," she continued mischievously, "I have
great faith in Katy as an ally. I am pretty sure that she will say that
she wants to go."

And indeed Katy's cry of delight when the plan was proposed to her said
that sufficiently, without need of further explanation. To go to Europe
for a year with Mrs. Ashe and Amy seemed simply too delightful to be
true. All the things she had heard about and read about--cathedrals,
pictures, Alpine peaks, famous places, famous people--came rushing into
her mind in a sort of bewildering tide as dazzling as it was
overwhelming. Dr. Carr's objections, his reluctance to part with her,
melted before the radiance of her satisfaction. He had no idea that
Katy would care so much about it. After all, it was a great
chance,--perhaps the only one of the sort that she would ever have.
Mrs. Ashe could well afford to give Katy this treat, he knew; and it
was quite true what she said, that it was a favor to her as well as to
Katy. This train of reasoning led to its natural results. Dr. Carr
began to waver in his mind.

But, the first excitement over, Katy's second thoughts were more sober
ones. How could papa manage without her for a whole year, she asked
herself. He would miss her, she well knew, and might not the charge of
the house be too much for Clover? The preserves were almost all made,
that was one comfort; but there were the winter clothes to be seen to;
Dorry needed new flannels, Elsie's dresses must be altered over for
Johnnie,--there were cucumbers to pickle, the coal to order! A host of
housewifely cares began to troop through Katy's mind, and a little
pucker came into her forehead, and a worried look across the face which
had been so bright a few minutes before. Strange to say, it was that
little pucker and the look of worry which decided Dr. Carr.

"She is only twenty-one," he reflected; "hardly out of childhood. I
don't want her to settle into an anxious, drudging state and lose her
youth with caring for us all. She shall go; though how we are to manage
without her I don't see. Little Clover will have to come to the fore,
and show what sort of stuff there is in her."

"Little Clover" came gallantly "to the fore" when the first shock of
surprise was over, and she had relieved her mind with one long private
cry over having to do without Katy for a year. Then she wiped her eyes,
and began to revel unselfishly in the idea of her sister's having so
great a treat. Anything and everything seemed possible to secure it for
her; and she made light of all Katy's many anxieties and apprehensions.

"My dear child, I know a flannel undershirt when I see one, just as well
as you do," she declared. "Tucks in Johnnie's dress, forsooth! why, of
course. Ripping out a tuck doesn't require any superhuman ingenuity!
Give me your scissors, and I'll show you at once. Quince marmalade?
Debby can make that. Hers is about as good as yours; and if it wasn't,
what should we care, as long as you are ascending Mont Blanc, and
hob-nobbing with Michael Angelo and the crowned heads of Europe? I'll
make the spiced peaches! I'll order the kindling! And if there ever
comes a time when I feel lost and can't manage without advice, I'll go
across to Mrs. Hall. Don't worry about us. We shall get on happily and
easily; in fact, I shouldn't be surprised if I developed such a turn for
housekeeping, that when you come back the family refused to change, and
you had just to sit for the rest of your life and twirl your thumbs and
watch me do it! Wouldn't that be fine?" and Clover laughed merrily. "So,
Katy darling, cast that shadow from your brow, and look as a girl ought
to look who's going to Europe. Why, if it were I who were going, I
should simply stand on my head every moment of the time!"

"Not a very convenient position for packing," said Katy, smiling.

"Yes, it is, if you just turn your trunk upside down! When I think of
all the delightful things you are going to do, I can hardly sit still. I
_love_ Mrs. Ashe for inviting you."

"So do I," said Katy, soberly. "It was the kindest thing! I can't think
why she did it."

"Well, I can," replied Clover, always ready to defend Katy even against
herself. "She did it because she wanted you, and she wanted you because
you are the dearest old thing in the world, and the nicest to have
about. You needn't say you're not, for you are! Now, Katy, don't waste
another thought on such miserable things as pickles and undershirts. We
shall get along perfectly well, I do assure you. Just fix your mind
instead on the dome of St. Peter's, or try to fancy how you'll feel the
first time you step into a gondola or see the Mediterranean. There will
be a moment! I feel a forty-horse power of housekeeping developing
within me; and what fun it will be to get your letters! We shall fetch
out the Encyclopaedia and the big Atlas and the 'History of Modern
Europe,' and read all about everything you see and all the places you
go to; and it will be as good as a lesson in geography and history and
political economy all combined, only a great deal more interesting! We
shall stick out all over with knowledge before you come back; and this
makes it a plain duty to go, if it were only for our sakes." With these
zealous promises, Katy was forced to be content. Indeed, contentment
was not difficult with such a prospect of delight before her. When once
her little anxieties had been laid aside, the idea of the coming
journey grew in pleasantness every moment. Night after night she and
papa and the children pored over maps and made out schemes for travel
and sight-seeing, every one of which was likely to be discarded as soon
as the real journey began. But they didn't know that, and it made no
real difference. Such schemes are the preliminary joys of travel, and
it doesn't signify that they come to nothing after they have served
their purpose.

Katy learned a great deal while thus talking over what she was to see
and do. She read every scrap she could lay her hand on which related to
Rome or Florence or Venice or London. The driest details had a charm for
her now that she was likely to see the real places. She went about with
scraps of paper in her pocket, on which were written such things as
these: "Forum. When built? By whom built? More than one?" "What does
_Cenacola_ mean?" "Cecilia Metella. Who was she?" "Find out about Saint
Catherine of Siena." "Who was Beatrice Cenci?" How she wished that she
had studied harder and more carefully before this wonderful chance came
to her. People always wish this when they are starting for Europe; and
they wish it more and more after they get there, and realize of what
value exact ideas and information and a fuller knowledge of the foreign
languages are to all travellers; how they add to the charm of everything
seen, and enhance the ease of everything done.

All Burnet took an interest in Katy's plans, and almost everybody had
some sort of advice or help, or some little gift to offer. Old Mrs.
Worrett, who, though fatter than ever, still retained the power of
locomotion, drove in from Conic Section in her roomy carryall with the
present of a rather obsolete copy of "Murray's Guide," in faded red
covers, which her father had used in his youth, and which she was sure
Katy would find convenient; also a bottle of Brown's Jamaica Ginger, in
case of sea-sickness. Debby's sister-in-law brought a bundle of dried
chamomile for the same purpose. Some one had told her it was the
"handiest thing in the world to take along with you on them steamboats."
Cecy sent a wonderful old-gold and scarlet contrivance to hang on the
wall of the stateroom. There were pockets for watches, and pockets for
medicines, and pockets for handkerchief and hairpins,--in short, there
were pockets for everything; besides a pincushion with "Bon Voyage" in
rows of shining pins, a bottle of eau-de-cologne, a cake of soap, and a
hammer and tacks to nail the whole up with. Mrs. Hall's gift was a warm
and very pretty woollen wrapper of dark blue flannel, with a pair of
soft knitted slippers to match. Old Mr. Worrett sent a note of advice,
recommending Katy to take a quinine pill every day that she was away,
never to stay out late, because the dews "over there" were said to be
unwholesome, and on no account to drink a drop of water which had not
been boiled.

From Cousin Helen came a delightful travelling-bag, light and strong at
once, and fitted up with all manner of nice little conveniences. Miss
Inches sent a "History of Europe" in five fat volumes, which was so
heavy that it had to be left at home. In fact, a good many of Katy's
presents had to be left at home, including a bronze paper-weight in the
shape of a griffin, a large pair of brass screw candlesticks, and an
ormolu inkstand with a pen-rest attached, which weighed at least a pound
and a half. These Katy laid aside to enjoy after her return. Mrs. Ashe
and Cousin Helen had both warned her of the inconvenient consequences of
weight in baggage; and by their advice she had limited herself to a
single trunk of moderate size, besides a little flat valise for use in
her stateroom.

Clover's gift was a set of blank books for notes, journals, etc. In one
of these, Katy made out a list of "Things I must see," "Things I must
do," "Things I would like to see," "Things I would like to do." Another
she devoted to various good shopping addresses which had been given her;
for though she did not expect to do any shopping herself, she thought
Mrs. Ashe might find them useful. Katy's ideas were still so simple and
unworldly, and her experience of life so small, that it had not occurred
to her how very tantalizing it might be to stand in front of shop
windows full of delightful things and not be able to buy any of them.
She was accordingly overpowered with surprise, gratitude, and the sense
of sudden wealth, when about a week before the start her father gave her
three little thin strips of paper, which he told her were circular
notes, and worth a hundred dollars apiece. He also gave her five English
sovereigns.

"Those are for immediate use," he said. "Put the notes away carefully,
and don't lose them. You had better have them cashed one at a time as
you require them. Mrs. Ashe will explain how. You will need a gown or so
before you come back, and you'll want to buy some photographs and so on,
and there will be fees--"

"But, papa," protested Katy, opening wide her candid eyes, "I didn't
expect you to give me any money, and I'm afraid you are giving me too
much. Do you think you can afford it? Really and truly, I don't want to
buy things. I shall see everything, you know, and that's enough."

Her father only laughed.

"You'll be wiser and greedier before the year is out, my dear," he
replied. "Three hundred dollars won't go far, as you'll find. But it's
all I can spare, and I trust you to keep within it, and not come home
with any long bills for me to pay."

"Papa! I should think not!" cried Katy, with unsophisticated horror.

One very interesting thing was to happen before they sailed, the thought
of which helped both Katy and Clover through the last hard days, when
the preparations were nearly complete, and the family had leisure to
feel dull and out of spirits. Katy was to make Rose Red a visit.

Rose had by no means been idle during the three years and a half which
had elapsed since they all parted at Hillsover, and during which the
girls had not seen her. In fact, she had made more out of the time than
any of the rest of them, for she had been engaged for eighteen months,
had been married, and was now keeping house near Boston with a little
Rose of her own, who, she wrote to Clover, was a perfect angel, and more
delicious than words could say! Mrs. Ashe had taken passage in the
"Spartacus," sailing from Boston; and it was arranged that Katy should
spend the last two days before sailing, with Rose, while Mrs. Ashe and
Amy visited an old aunt in Hingham. To see Rose in her own home, and
Rose's husband, and Rose's baby, was only next in interest to seeing
Europe. None of the changes in her lot seemed to have changed her
particularly, to judge by the letter she sent in reply to Katy's
announcing her plans, which letter ran as follows:--

"LONGWOOD, September 20.

"My dearest child,--Your note made me dance with delight. I stood on my
head waving my heels wildly to the breeze till Deniston thought I must
be taken suddenly mad; but when I explained he did the same. It is too
enchanting, the whole of it. I put it at the head of all the nice things
that ever happened, except my baby. Write the moment you get this by
what train you expect to reach Boston, and when you roll into the
station you will behold two forms, one tall and stalwart, the other
short and fatsome, waiting for you. They will be those of Deniston and
myself. Deniston is not beautiful, but he is good, and he is prepared to
_adore_ you. The baby is both good and beautiful, and you will adore
her. I am neither; but you know all about me, and I always did adore you
and always shall. I am going out this moment to the butcher's to order a
calf fatted for your special behoof; and he shall be slain and made into
cutlets the moment I hear from you. My funny little house, which is
quite a dear little house too, assumes a new interest in my eyes from
the fact that you so soon are to see it. It is somewhat queer, as you
might know my house would be; but I think you will like it.

"I saw Silvery Mary the other day and told her you were coming. She is
the same mouse as ever. I shall ask her and some of the other girls to
come out to lunch on one of your days. Good-by, with a hundred and fifty
kisses to Clovy and the rest.

"Your loving

"ROSE RED."

"She never signs herself Browne, I observe," said Clover, as she
finished the letter.

"Oh, Rose Red Browne would sound too funny. Rose Red she must stay till
the end of the chapter; no other name could suit her half so well, and I
can't imagine her being called anything else. What fun it will be to see
her and little Rose!"

"And Deniston Browne," put in Clover.

"Somehow I find it rather hard to take in the fact that there is a
Deniston Browne," observed Katy.

"It will be easier after you have seen him, perhaps."

The last day came, as last days will. Katy's trunk, most carefully
and exactly packed by the united efforts of the family, stood in the
hall, locked and strapped, not to be opened again till the party
reached London. This fact gave it a certain awful interest in the
eyes of Phil and Johnnie, and even Elsie gazed upon it with respect.
The little valise was also ready; and Dorry, the neat-handed, had
painted a red star on both ends of both it and the trunk, that they
might be easily picked from among a heap of luggage. He now proceeded
to prepare and paste on two square cards, labelled respectively,
"Hold" and "State-room." Mrs. Hall had told them that this was the
correct thing to do.

Mrs. Ashe had been full of business likewise in putting her house to
rights for a family who had rented it for the time of her absence, and
Katy and Clover had taken a good many hours from their own preparations
to help her. All was done at last; and one bright morning in October,
Katy stood on the wharf with her family about her, and a lump in her
throat which made it difficult to speak to any of them. She stood so
very still and said so very little, that a bystander not acquainted with
the circumstances might have dubbed her "unfeeling;" while the fact was
that she was feeling too much!

The first bell rang. Katy kissed everybody quietly and went on board
with her father. Her parting from him, hardest of all, took place in the
midst of a crowd of people; then he had to leave her, and as the wheels
began to revolve she went out on the side deck to have a last glimpse of
the home faces. There they were: Elsie crying tumultuously, with her
head on papa's coat-sleeve; John laughing, or trying to laugh, with big
tears running down her cheeks the while; and brave little Clover waving
her handkerchief encouragingly, but with a very sober look on her face.
Katy's heart went out to the little group with a sudden passion of
regret and yearning. Why had she said she would go? What was all Europe
in comparison with what she was leaving? Life was so short, how could
she take a whole year out of it to spend away from the people she loved
best? If it had been left to her to choose, I think she would have flown
back to the shore then and there, and given up the journey, I also think
she would have been heartily sorry a little later, had she done so.

But it was not left for her to choose. Already the throb of the engines
was growing more regular and the distance widening between the great
boat and the wharf. Gradually the dear faces faded into distance; and
after watching till the flutter of Clover's handkerchief became an
undistinguishable speck, Katy went to the cabin with a heavy heart. But
there were Mrs. Ashe and Amy, inclined to be homesick also, and in need
of cheering; and Katy, as she tried to brighten them, gradually grew
bright herself, and recovered her hopeful spirits. Burnet pulled less
strongly as it got farther away, and Europe beckoned more brilliantly
now that they were fairly embarked on their journey. The sun shone, the
lake was a beautiful, dazzling blue, and Katy said to herself, "After
all, a year is not very long, and how happy I am going to be!"




CHAPTER III.

ROSE AND ROSEBUD.


Thirty-six hours later the Albany train, running smoothly across the
green levels beyond the Mill Dam, brought the travellers to Boston.

Katy looked eagerly from the window for her first glimpse of the city of
which she had heard so much. "Dear little Boston! How nice it is to see
it again!" she heard a lady behind her say; but why it should be called
"little Boston" she could not imagine. Seen from the train, it looked
large, imposing, and very picturesque, after flat Burnet with its one
bank down to the edge of the lake. She studied the towers, steeples, and
red roofs crowding each other up the slopes of the Tri-Mountain, and the
big State House dome crowning all, and made up her mind that she liked
the looks of it better than any other city she had ever seen.

The train slackened its speed, ran for a few moments between rows of
tall, shabby brick walls, and with a long, final screech of its whistle
came to halt in the station-house. Every one made a simultaneous rush
for the door; and Katy and Mrs. Ashe, waiting to collect their books and
bags, found themselves wedged into their seats and unable to get out. It
was a confusing moment, and not comfortable; such moments never are.

But the discomfort brightened into a sense of relief as, looking out of
the window, Katy caught sight of a face exactly opposite, which had
evidently caught sight of her,--a fresh, pretty face, with light, waving
hair, pink cheeks all a-dimple, and eyes which shone with laughter and
welcome. It was Rose herself, not a bit changed during the years since
they parted. A tall young man stood beside her, who must, of course, be
her husband, Deniston Browne.

"There is Rose Red," cried Katy to Mrs. Ashe. "Oh, doesn't she look dear
and natural? Do wait and let me introduce you. I want you to know her."

But the train had come in a little behind time, and Mrs. Ashe was
afraid of missing the Hingham boat; so she only took a hasty peep
from the window at Rose, pronounced her to be charming-looking,
kissed Katy hurriedly, reminded her that they must be on the steamer
punctually at twelve o'clock the following Saturday, and was gone,
with Amy beside her; so that Katy, following last of all the
slow-moving line of passengers, stepped all alone down from the
platform into the arms of Rose Red.

"You darling!" was Rose's first greeting. "I began to think you meant
to spend the night in the car, you were so long in getting out. Well,
how perfectly lovely this is! Deniston, here is Katy; Katy, this is
my husband."

Rose looked about fifteen as she spoke, and so absurdly young to have a
"husband," that Katy could not help laughing as she shook hands with
"Deniston;" and his own eyes twinkled with fun and evident recognition
of the same joke. He was a tall young man, with a pleasant, "steady"
face, and seemed to be infinitely amused, in a quiet way, with
everything which his wife said and did.

"Let us make haste and get out of this hole," went on Rose. "I can
scarcely see for the smoke. Deniston, dear, please find the cab, and
have Katy's luggage put on it. I am wild to get her home, and exhibit
baby before she chews up her new sash or does something else that is
dreadful, to spoil her looks. I left her sitting in state, Katy, with
all her best clothes on, waiting to be made known to you."

"My large trunk is to go straight to the steamer," explained Katy, as
she gave her checks to Mr. Browne. "I only want the little one taken out
to Longwood, please."

"Now, this is cosey," remarked Rose, when they were seated in the cab
with Katy's bag at their feet. "Deniston, my love, I wish you were going
out with us. There's a nice little bench here all ready and vacant,
which is just suited to a man of your inches. You won't? Well, come in
the early train, then. Don't forget.--Now, isn't he just as nice as I
told you he was?" she demanded, the moment the cab began to move.

"He looks very nice indeed, as far as I can judge in three minutes and
a quarter."

"My dear, it ought not to take anybody of ordinary discernment a minute
and a quarter to perceive that he is simply the dearest fellow that ever
lived," said Rose. "I discovered it three seconds after I first beheld
him, and was desperately in love with him before he had fairly finished
his first bow after introduction."

"And was he equally prompt?" asked Katy.

"He says so," replied Rose, with a pretty blush. "But then, you know, he
could hardly say less after such a frank confession on my part. It is no
more than decent of him to make believe, even if it is not true. Now,
Katy, look at Boston, and see if you don't _love_ it!"

The cab had now turned into Boylston Street; and on the right hand lay
the Common, green as summer after the autumn rains, with the elm arches
leafy still. Long, slant beams of afternoon sun were filtering through
the boughs and falling across the turf and the paths, where people were
walking and sitting, and children and babies playing together. It was a
delightful scene; and Katy received an impression of space and cheer and
air and freshness, which ever after was associated with her recollection
of Boston.

Rose was quite satisfied with her raptures as they drove through Charles
Street, between the Common and the Public Garden, all ablaze with autumn
flowers, and down the length of Beacon Street with the blue bay shining
between the handsome houses on the water side. Every vestibule and
bay-window was gay with potted plants and flower-boxes; and a concourse
of happy-looking people, on foot, on horseback, and in carriages, was
surging to and fro like an equal, prosperous tide, while the sunlight
glorified all.

"'Boston shows a soft Venetian side,'" quoted Katy, after a while. "I
know now what Mr. Lowell meant when he wrote that. I don't believe there
is a more beautiful place in the world."

"Why, of course there isn't," retorted Rose, who was a most devoted
little Bostonian, in spite of the fact that she had lived in Washington
nearly all her life. "I've not seen much beside, to be sure, but that is
no matter; I know it is true. It is the dream of my life to come into
the city to live. I don't care what part I live in,--West End, South
End, North End; it's all one to me, so long as it is Boston!"

"But don't you like Longwood?" asked Katy, looking out admiringly at the
pretty places set amid vines and shrubberies, which they were now
passing. "It looks so very pretty and pleasant."

"Yes, it's well enough for any one who has a taste for natural
beauties," replied Rose. "I haven't; I never had. There is nothing I
hate so much as Nature! I'm a born cockney. I'd rather live in one room
over Jordan and Marsh's, and see the world wag past, than be the owner
of the most romantic villa that ever was built, I don't care where it
may be situated."

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