The Four Corners

At this time Nan and Mary Lee, too, were fired with an ambition to further improve their minds, this following certain talks with their Aunt Helen, and they determined upon a course of reading.

"We'll take Macaulay's History of England," said Mary Lee; "it will be the most useful."

The two girls were on their knees before the old bookcase which held mostly old standard works, and few modern books.

"We must have some maps and dictionaries and things," said Nan, clapping the covers of a volume together to beat out the dust. So with maps and books of reference, they established themselves in a quiet corner upon two or three consecutive Saturdays, but at the end of the third Saturday, they found themselves always starting with a sentence which read: "The king had no standing army." Beyond this, they never seemed able to go, mainly because the book to girls of their age meant simply a very dry record, and they found it more interesting to read some anecdote from one of the books of reference, and to talk about what their aunt had told them of England of the present day. Therefore, at last Macaulay was laid aside, and the only fact they remembered reading from the book was that the king had no standing army.

Although Miss Sarah had never set foot across the brook, she tacitly permitted the intercourse between the two families, and even admitted that Miss Helen was not to be included in the censure which she so sweepingly bestowed upon her mother. Of the children's grandmother, she would never speak, and only by a toss of the head and a sarcastic smile did they know that she had not altered her opinion of the elder Mrs. Corner. Every attention or gift the girls received was attributed to the influence of Miss Helen, and Miss Sarah honestly believed that in her opinion she was right.

As for Miss Helen, she never came to her sister-in-law's house. "I am biding my time," she told her mother. "When Mary comes back, I think we shall have matters on a different footing."

"I'm afraid I can never bring myself to going there," sighed Mrs. Corner. "I'm too old to give up all my prejudices, Helen, but I shall try to meet my son's wife half way."

"If I know Mary Gordon Lee," said Helen, "you will not have to go even half way."

And indeed there was no going half way for anybody, as an occurrence soon changed everything for those who lived at Uplands. It took place one night when the winds of March were sweeping through the mountain forests, sighing through the pines in Nan's summer retreat, and uncovering the young pushing blades, already started from the ground down by the brook.

Nan, who was a light sleeper, was startled from her slumbers by the dashing by of engines, and by hearing cries of "Fire!" She slipped out of bed and drew aside the curtains to look out, wondering if the barn on their own place could have caught, but it was beyond the brook that the sky was red and the flames were mounting high. In an instant, she realized where the danger was. She rushed to the boys' door. "Ran, Ran," she cried, banging on the door, "Uplands is on fire!" She stopped to pound on her Aunt Sarah's door. "Uplands is on fire!" she cried. Then she ran back to her own room and slipped on her clothes.

In a few minutes the bolt rattled at Ran's door and he went flying down-stairs, two steps at a time. Then Aunt Sarah appeared in her dressing gown. "What was it you were saying, Nan?" she asked.

Nan was at the window. "Just come here and see," she said, and Aunt Sarah joined her. "Goodness!" she exclaimed. The fire was burning more fiercely now, fanned by the high winds. They could hear the "Chug, Chug" of the engines, the crackle of the burning, the hoarse cries of the men.

A sob arose in Nan's throat. "I can't bear to look at it, and yet it fascinates me," she said. "Oh, Aunt Sarah, do you suppose they are safe? I wish I could go and see."

"Not a step do you go," decided Aunt Sarah. "I'm going down to put some water to boil and be on hand if I'm wanted. You'd better go back to bed. The others are all fast asleep and that's what you ought to be."

"As if I could sleep," said Nan. "Please let me come down-stairs."

"Come along, then," said Aunt Sarah. And Nan followed.

In a short time there was a sound of voices outside and a knock at the door, then Ran came rushing in. "They are bringing Mrs. Corner and Miss Helen here," he said. "I told them to. That was right, wasn't it? This is the nearest house."

"It was quite right," returned Miss Sarah, stiffening herself, but going to the living-room to make a light, and then to the front door, candle in hand. "Bring them right in," she said, speaking to the forms moving about in the darkness.

"It took a little while to get a carriage," spoke up one of the men, "and the ladies had to stand outside for a time. They'd better have something warm."

Miss Sarah opened the door to admit first Mrs. Corner, helped along slowly by two men, and then Miss Helen. Both had blankets thrown around them over their night-dresses, and both were in their bare feet. "Right in here," repeated Miss Sarah.

The men established Mrs. Corner upon the old threadbare sofa, and Miss Helen sank into a rocking-chair. Nan had immediately gone back to the kitchen and presently appeared with two cups of steaming coffee. She went over at once to the sofa. "Won't you drink this, grandmother?" she said. "It will do you good."

"I am very cold, very cold," returned Mrs. Corner weakly. "Where am I?" she asked as the sense of warmth pervaded her.

"At our house grandmother," Nan answered.

"Where's Helen?" she asked with a bewildered look.

Miss Helen came to her. "Here I am, mother dear, perfectly safe. Drink this hot coffee and you will feel better."

Mrs. Corner took the coffee obediently and then lay back with closed eyes. Nan threw her arms around her Aunt Helen. "Darling," she said, "please drink your coffee, too, before it gets cold, and come over here by the stove."

"I'll sit by mother," returned Miss Helen. "Never mind about me."

"But I do mind about you," said Miss Sarah, standing over her with the coffee. "Drink this right down, Miss Helen." And Miss Helen, with a forlorn little smile, obeyed.

"We must get your mother straight to bed," Miss Sarah continued. "I'll go up and get ready for her. Do you think you could help me carry her up, Ran?" she asked the boy, who was standing by.

"Indeed I can!" he answered. And in a few minutes both Mrs. Corner and her daughter were in Miss Sarah's own bed, and that capable person was grimly seeing to their comfort.

Little was said on either side, but after Miss Sarah had placed hot bricks to Miss Helen's icy feet, she leaned over her and said: "Now, go to sleep and don't worry."

"But we are giving you so much trouble, Miss Dent," said Miss Helen, "and besides – "

"What are we in this world for?" said Miss Sarah. "And as for the rest of it, you're where you ought to be. I know what Mary would want. All you have to do is to get warm and go to sleep." But as she crossed the hall, Miss Sarah drew a long sigh. "I wonder what next," she said. "I suppose the Lord thought He'd teach me and that proud old woman a lesson, and we're learning it here side by side."

Nan laid her cheek against her Aunt Sarah's hand. She had a very good idea of what a bitter lesson it was, and of how hard it was to Aunt Sarah Dent to offer hospitality to Mrs. Corner.

"You're very good to do all this," she said, "and to give up your own room, Aunt Sarah."

"I'll slip into your place by Mary Lee," said Aunt Sarah, "and you can get in with the twins; theirs is a mighty wide old bed. I wouldn't turn a dog out under such circumstances, and if Grace Corner can stand it, I can."

They were all at breakfast when Miss Helen came down the next morning. Nan had laid out some of her mother's clothing for her, which sat strangely upon Miss Helen's little figure. "Mother is sleeping," she said, "and I would not disturb her. I am afraid she is a little feverish." She turned to Ran. "Was anything saved, do you know?" she asked.

"Quite a lot of furniture and some of the pictures, I believe," he told her.

"Grandmother's portrait, I hope," spoke up Nan.

"Yes, that was saved, I am sure. It is a little hard to know just what is safe, for everything is so soaked with water in the rooms that were not actually burned, that we can't tell just yet. Half the house is burned out entirely, only the walls stand on that side."

Miss Helen drew a long sigh. "We were to have been very happy there for the rest of our lives," she said plaintively.

"What's become of Baz?" asked Jack anxiously. The children were much excited over the strange news that had met them when they awoke that morning.

"I found Baz in a fence corner," Ran told Jack. "He was scared to death at first but I managed to catch him, and bring him over here. Lady Gray seemed to recognize him at once and they are snuggled up in the box with Ruby."

Jack looked greatly pleased. Her own had come to her again.

Miss Helen said little. There were great circles around her eyes and she was very pale. After breakfast she went to Miss Sarah.

"I know it is hard for you to have us here," she said, "and I cannot consent to giving you extra care. I know how you must feel."

"My dear," said Miss Sarah, "I have no right to feel. It is Mary's house, and I am simply doing as I know she would wish to do. I am not to be considered at all in the matter."

Miss Helen looked at her wistfully and Miss Sarah's face softened. "Please don't give yourself any anxiety," she went on. "When I saw your mother, feeble and dependent; when I saw your white hair, Helen Corner, and realized what the years had done for you, and that you were homeless by the power of the Almighty's elements, do you think I did not understand that He meant to teach me, too, not to set up my puny little will against His? We are all children of one Father and you are one of my sisters."

"Thank you," said Miss Helen gently. "I understand, too, and I thank you. Now, please, may I tell you of a little project of mine?"

Miss Sarah drew up her chair and the two sat down. "I have been thinking," began Miss Helen, "that we could be very comfortable in the wing of this house. There are the two rooms up-stairs besides the attic and the three rooms down-stairs, including the office which we could use as a kitchen. Couldn't we move over such of our things as are saved from the fire and settle there, for the present, at least? Do you think Mary would object?"