Chapter XII: Fourfold

DURING the next few weeks, there was a great deal to be done at Mrs. Lynn's. The sewing-machine and the seamstress were not idle, for there were a great many stitches to be taken to put the wardrobe of the family in order for the summer, and just as soon as all was done, they were to start on their journey, spending a little time in New York on their way to the sea-side.

Katy could hardly wait for the day to come. It would be so strange to go back to the great city where she used to live, when everything was so different with her now. She wondered if she should see Daisy again, and if Peter and Nancy were there,—if a certain bakery was where it used to be.

Katy had her own trunk and packed it herself, and it took a great many packings to get it to her mind. But the time came at last for them to start, and the morning train carried them swiftly on their way.

Toward evening, they arrived in the city. Taking a coach, they went to Mrs. Lynn's sister's, who lived in a handsome house up town. The travelers were shown into the brightly-lighted parlor, where they received a warm welcome from a lady and gentleman and little girl who sat around the table reading.

"And this is your little girl that you have adopted? My dear, this is your new auntie," said the lady, as she kissed Katy; "and it seems as if I had seen those eyes before, but that must be all fancy, of course."

In the commotion, nobody had thought to make the two little girls acquainted, and all were surprised when Katy exclaimed:

"It's 'Daisy,' mamma! I do believe it 'is' Daisy!"

Sure enough, there were the golden curls and the fair face and the sweet blue eyes. Nobody could forget her very well that had ever seen her.

"Yes, I'm Daisy," said the little girl, "but I don't know who you are."

"Why, don't you know? I'm Katy."

"Katy? Why—why—you're not the Katy that used to come here beg—with a basket, are you?"

"Yes," said Katy, blushing at the remembrance.

"Why, I never should have known you! Where have you been this long time? I was so sorry you didn't come any more," and the long-lost friends gave each other a warm greeting, while the older ones looked on, a good deal puzzled at all this.

"Now help us to understand this mystery," said Mrs. Grant to her sister. "How came Katy to stray off to you?"

So Katy's history was told and talked over with a great deal of wondering at the strange way in which things had turned out. And it was late before the pleasant party around the tea-table broke up and settled themselves for the night.

Perhaps you think that now Mr. and Mrs. Grant, since they knew all about Katy, felt as if they did not want a child who had once been a beggar to be a visitor in their house, and that Daisy, too, gave herself airs, and drew off from Katy, and tried to show her how far beneath her she was. But it was not so at all. They were a dear, Christian family, and were delighted to find that even one poor lamb had been snatched away from a life of misery.

Daisy and Katy were up with the first peep of day, and their tongues running very fast.

"O Daisy!" said Katy. "You can't think how much good that poor little dolly did me, that you gave to me."

"I remember it," said Daisy, "it had its legs or arms off, didn't it? How much I missed you, Katy, when you didn't come any more. I was afraid that old man had killed you,—and now you've come. It's so nice—it's just like a story-book; and we are cousins too, now, and can see each other real often."

And the two happy little girls wound their arms about each other, and skipped off to the garden, as Daisy called it. But it was the same little spot where Daisy had sat with her dolls the day Katy saw her. Now it was all gay with flowers.

Daisy spent a good deal of her time here at work, for she had planted the seeds and bulbs herself, and weeded and hoed and watered with great patience, as the pretty little garden plainly showed.

"Katy," said her mother one day, "you may come out with me a little while to do an errand."

When they were out by themselves, Mrs. Lynn said:

"Now we will attend to that business of ours about the bakery, you know."

"Oh, mamma!" said Katy. "Doesn't papa know?"

"No, indeed! This is our secret—yours and mine and the katy-dids. Now I want to see if we can find the place, and if the same man is there."

By means of street-car and omnibus they found themselves on the very corner that Katy had described. It was a bakery, and the sign read:

J. BARTON & SON.

"That is it," said Katy, "that is it!" And she would have rushed right in, if her Mother had not held her back.

"No, Katy, I will show you a better way. We will go now, and you may write to Mr. Barton enclosing as much money as you think you ought, and we will send it to him. That will be less embarrassing to you, and will answer the purpose just as well."

Before many hours had passed, Katy, after a good deal of study, brought the note to her mother, who said it was all right, and sent it to the post-office.

"Come with me," said Mr. Lynn to his wife and Katy, one day, as they were passing down Broadway. "Let us take this down-town omnibus, and see if Katy can find her way to where that old Peter used to live."

When they were once more in the neighborhood of the bakery, Katy soon found her way to the alley that she had traveled over so much.

"I should have supposed," said her mamma, "that you would have forgotten where to turn, by this time."

"Oh," said Katy, "I remembered that after I passed the bakery, I turned down by this big building with tall chimneys."

After walking a long distance down the alley, they came upon the old sign swinging in the wind,—

PETER HANKS, SHOEMAKER

And there, sunning himself in the doorway, sat old Peter himself. He was sound asleep, so they had a good chance to peep through the broken window, and see the home that Katy had left. The remains of the dinner were still on the table, and there was the whisky jug that accounted for the deep sleep of the master and mistress. For over on the bed in the corner, Nancy, too, was snoring, her mouth wide open. Her wash-tub stood in its usual place near the middle of the room—a large pond of suds under it, and the room was as dark and damp and mouldy-smelling as it used to be.

Katy noticed with a shudder the door of the closet standing open, where she had slept so many times on a heap of filthy rags.

Mr. and Mrs. Lynn turned away from the sickening sight with swelling hearts, and Katy grasped a hand of each, as if she feared that old Peter would wake and claim her even now. None of them spoke as they walked away, but each was in deep thought.

Katy was thinking:

"Oh, how good God was to let me get away from those bad old folks and that dreadful, 'dreadful' place, and then to give me such a home as He has. I must be very good all my life."

In Mr. Barton's bakery the lights were turned low. The business was done for the day, and Mr. Barton, a gray-haired man past sixty, with his face full of worldly care, seated himself by the fire to read some letters that had just been brought in.

"What does all this mean?" he said, as he opened one letter and some money dropped at his feet. Then he read it, and this is what it said:

"MR. BARTON: When I was a wicked little girl, I stole a loaf of bread from you. You never knew it, I guess. It was more than two years ago. Now I have learned how dreadful sin is, for I belong to Jesus, and I want to make it all right with you. I send you fifty cents. I know the loaf didn't cost so much, but I want to do as the man in the Bible did,—pay back four times as much. Please forgive me.

"KATY."

When Mr. Barton had read it, he said:

"What in the world is all this about, anyway, and who is Katy?"

Then he took off his spectacles and wiped them, and read it again. Then he wiped his eyes and looked all about, as if there was any one there to see him, and leaned his head on his hand, and thought a long time. He thought how many times he had done things that were worse than this; and here was a little girl who thought she had committed a great sin in taking one loaf of bread.

Then one little sentence in the letter, "I belong to Jesus, now," kept itself before him. To whom did "he" belong? He had never stopped thinking about his business long enough to ask himself that question. He sat a long time and thought about these things, more seriously than he had in many years.

The next week, the two families started for the sea-shore, and for many happy weeks after, Daisy and Katy enjoyed being together. They bathed and searched for shells, and played in the sand.

And there we will leave them, only saying that Katy "did" grow up to be a noble, Christian woman, and worked hard for the Master, and had a warm heart for all little homeless children.

THE END.