Timothy Crump's Ward: A Story of American Life

“By Ida’s mother. I do not blame you for your caution,” she continued. “You must be so interested in the happiness of the dear child of whom you have taken such (sic) excelent care, I don’t mind telling you that I was the one who left her at your door eight years ago, and that I never left the neighborhood until I found that you had taken her in.”

“And it was this, that enabled you to find the house, to-day.”

“You forget,” said the nurse, “that you were not then living in this house, but in another, some rods off, on the left-hand side of the street.”

“You are right,” said the cooper. “I am disposed to believe in the genuineness of your claim. You must pardon my testing you in such a manner, but I was not willing to yield up Ida, even for a little time, without feeling confident of the hands she was falling into.”

“You are right,” said the nurse. “I don’t blame you in the least. I shall report it to Ida’s mother, as a proof of your attachment to your child.”

“When do you wish Ida to go with you?” asked Mrs. Crump.

“Can you let her go this afternoon?”

“Why,” said Mrs. Crump, hesitating, “I should like to have a chance to wash out some clothes for her. I want her to appear as neat a possible, when she meets her mother.”

The nurse hesitated.

“I do not wish to hurry you. If you will let me know when she will be ready, I will call for her.”

“I think I can get her ready early to-morrow morning.”

“That will answer excellently. I will call for her then.”

The nurse rose, and gathered her shawl about her.

“Where are you going, Mrs. Hardwick?” asked the cooper’s wife.

“To a hotel,” was the reply.

“We cannot allow that,” said Mrs. Crump, kindly. “It is a pity if we cannot accommodate Ida’s old nurse for one night, or ten times as long, for that matter.”

“My wife is quite right,” said the cooper; “we must insist upon your stopping with us.”

The nurse hesitated, and looked irresolute. It was plain she would have preferred to be elsewhere, but a remark which Mrs. Crump made, decided her to accept the invitation.

It was this. “You know, Mrs. Hardwick, if Ida is to go with you, she ought to have a little chance to get acquainted with you before you go.”

“I will accept your kind invitation,” she said; “but I am afraid I shall be in your way.”

“Not in the least. It will be a pleasure to us to have you here. If you will excuse me now, I will go out and attend to my dinner, which I am afraid is getting behindhand.”

Left to herself, the nurse behaved in a manner which might be regarded as singular. She rose from her seat, and approached the mirror. She took a full survey of herself as she stood there, and laughed a short, hard laugh.

Then she made a formal courtesy to her own reflection, saying, “How do you do, Mrs. Hardwick?”

“Did you speak?” asked the cooper, who was passing through the entry on his way out.

“No,” said the nurse, a little awkwardly. “I believe I said something to myself. It’s of no consequence.”

“Somehow,” thought the cooper, “I don’t fancy the woman’s looks, but I dare say I am prejudiced. We’re all of us as God made us.”

While Mrs. Crump was making preparations for the noon-day meal, she imparted to Rachel the astonishing information, which has already been detailed to the reader.

“I don’t believe a word of it,” said Rachel, resolutely.

“She’s an imposter. I knew she was the very first moment I set eyes on her.”

This remark was so characteristic of Rachel, that Mrs. Crump did not attach any special importance to it. Rachel, of course, had no grounds for the opinion she so confidently expressed. It was consistent, however, with her general estimate of human nature.

“What object could she have in inventing such a story?”

“What object? Hundreds of ‘em,” said Rachel, rather indefinitely. “Mark my words, if you let her carry off Ida, it’ll be the last you’ll ever see of her.”

“Try to look on the bright side, Rachel. Nothing is more natural than that her mother should want to see her.”

“Why couldn’t she come herself?” muttered Rachel.

“The letter explains.”

“I don’t see that it does.”

“It says that the same reasons exist for concealment as ever.”

“And what are they, I should like to know? I don’t like mysteries, for my part.”

“We won’t quarrel with them, at any rate, since they enable us to keep Ida with us.”

Aunt Rachel shook her head, as if she were far from satisfied.

“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Crump, “but I ought to invite Mrs. Hardwick in here. I have left her alone in the front room.”

“I don’t want to see her,” said Aunt Rachel. Then changing her mind, suddenly, “Yes, you may bring her in. I’ll find out whether she is an imposter or not.”

Mrs. Crump returned with the nurse. “Mrs. Hardwick,” said she, “this is my sister, Miss Rachel Crump.”

“I am glad to make your acquaintance, ma’am,” said the nurse.

“Aunt Rachel, I will leave you to entertain Mrs. Hardwick,” said Mrs. Crump. “I am obliged to be in the kitchen.”

Rachel and the nurse eyed each other with mutual dislike.

“I hope you don’t expect me to entertain you,” said Rachel. “I never expect to entertain anybody again. This is a world of trial and tribulation, and I’ve had my share. So you’ve come after Ida, I hear?” with a sudden change of subject.

“At her mother’s request,” said the nurse.

“She wants to see her, then?”

“Yes, ma’am.”