"Susanna would cut off her hand if you asked it; but I know she has more than usual to do this morning, and we agreed the shop was to be our part. I am not in the least tired. Please, Marion!" Norah stood between her and the door.

"Very well. I shall attend to it myself," and Marion swept by her.

"O dear!" sighed Norah, "I feel like a tyrant; but she must not give up."

Marion returned presently and began washing the palms and clipping away the dead leaves. She worked listlessly, her face wore an expression of deep melancholy.

A diversion was created by the entrance of James Mandeville. He had been kept in several days by a cold, and the joy of release radiated from his small person.

"Mammy says she reckons the sun's going to shine by and by, so she let me come," he announced.

"Mammy and I are of the same opinion, then," said Norah, helping him off with his coat. "Can't you think of something to cheer Miss Marion?

She is very tired of this rainy weather."

"I'll sing her a song, that's what I'll do," James Mandeville cried eagerly. "You wait."

He disappeared into the next room, where presently his voice was heard uplifted in "Onward, Christian Soldiers," and if the tune was a trifle uncertain, nothing was lacking in spirit. Through the open door he marched, holding the morning paper before him, and proceeding the length of the shop.

"One in hope of _doctor_, one in _cherry tree_,"

he proclaimed l.u.s.tily.

Even Marion must smile a little at this.

"It is beautiful," said Norah, "though I don't quite understand it. I seem to feel a sort of connection between the doctor and the cherry tree, too."

"There's a heap more of verses," James Mandeville a.s.sured her. "Do you feel better?" This to Marion.

Who could resist? She laughed as she drew him to her and kissed him.

"I am cross this morning, and you are a nice boy to sing for me. I make life very hard for Miss Norah. Suppose you go tell her I am sorry."

James Mandeville trotted off obediently to find Norah, who had left the room a moment before. Marion, having finished with the plants, was absently looking out of the window when the door opened with a jerk and some one bounced into the shop. Turning with a start, she recognized the personage Norah called Giant Despair.

"What do you mean?--" he began, then paused and stared about in bewilderment. "Where am I?" he demanded; and as Marion advanced he removed his hat, displaying a ma.s.sive head covered with s.h.a.ggy gray hair.

"We call this the Pleasant Street Shop," she answered.

"See here--I thought it was the plumber's. I am getting so blind I shall soon have to be led around. So you call this a shop? Does it belong to you? For I can tell you now you have made a mistake in coming here." His voice was gruff, and as he spoke he peered this way and that, as if to get some idea of his surroundings.

"If we can't make a success here, we will go elsewhere, but we are doing very well," Marion said, "The plumber is on the next block."

"I know that now. I am not losing my mind as well as my sight."

Something impelled Marion to say, "I am sorry about your eyes. Can't something be done?"

"Sorry? How can you be sorry? n.o.body knows anything about it who hasn't tried it."

"I have lived in constant fear of blindness for a year." Marion seldom spoke of her eyes, but the sight of trouble like her own broke down her usual reticence.

The old man softened. "You have? A young thing like you?" He peered at her in his intent way. "I guess you have grit," he said.

"Not much," she answered. "But my eyes are better, they tell me. Time will show. Can't something be done for yours?"

"Oh, yes, they are going to operate on the right one in the spring, but it is not likely to do any good; and then I shall have just half an eye left."

Norah and James Mandeville now entered un.o.bserved.

"I have got to row up that plumber," Giant Despair continued, looking at his hat. "As I told you, I don't approve of a shop in this neighborhood, but I don't see anything that looks like one. Good day,"

and with a grim smile he went out more quietly than he had entered.

"Who would ever have expected a visit from Giant Despair?" cried Norah, "and he seems to have a bit of humor about him, too."

"I am sorry for him. He looks as if he had no one to take care of him, and he is nearly blind, as you can tell," said Marion.

When Mammy Belle came for her charge at noon, Marion asked her if she knew anything about old Mr. Goodman.

"Yes'm," answered Belle, "I knows him, Miss Marion," smoothing her ap.r.o.n.

"Does he live alone in that big house on the Terrace?"

"Yes'm, and he's mighty rich and crusty. He don't waste no pleasant words, and he don't waste no money. Law, Miss Marion, he's got rusty dollars layin' up in bank."

"Rusty dollars?" repeated Norah.

"Yes, honey, been layin' thar so long they's rusty. Get up offen the floor, James Mandeville. You won't have no skin on your knees, fust you knows."

"Then will I have to be born again to get some?" inquired the small boy, sitting back on his heels to consider the matter.

"Law, chile, what you talkin' 'bout? You mus' think you's Nickorydemus! Miss Norah's settin' there laughin' at you. Come 'long home with mammy."

"Isn't there a delightful variousness about our neighborhood?" said Norah. "Do you see that sun? Tell me I am not a prophet!"

"You are an angel to put up with me," sighed Marion, but her face was no longer gloomy.

"I have been constructing a grab-bag, and you shall have the first grab;" and Norah brought out a bag made of rainbow ribbons. "This is outwardly symbolic of the cheer within. The principle on which it works is simple. Whenever I find a consoling sentiment, I write it on a card and drop it in, then when I am low in my mind, I take one out.

Help yourself."

"What an absurd person you are!" said Marion, obediently putting her hand in and drawing out a card. She read:--

"Cleave ever to the sunnier side of doubt, And cling to faith."

Norah looked over her shoulder. "That is good, isn't it?"

Marion caught her hand. "You preacher," she said, adding, "I accept it, dear, and I'll try." The visit of Giant Despair seemed the culmination of Marion's depression. It was Sat.u.r.day afternoon, and leaving Susanna in charge, they set out on an exploring expedition in the mood of two light-hearted children.

CHAPTER SIXTEENTH