CHAPTER III

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A FOUNDATION THAT BROUGHT KAT TO GRIEF.

Slam! went the gate, knocking the dead leaves right and left, and whiz! went two girls up the walk, like unruly sky-rockets, with the odd ends flying. Rattle-de-tap, went four feet with steel-capped heels over the old shady porch, and bang! went the door back against the wall; then:----

"Mama,----"

"Bea,--Er,----"

"Nestine, Olive,----"

"Jean, hurry;--let me tell first. Miss----"

"I beat to the steps, I ought to tell," shrieked Kat, as Kittie choked for breath. "Miss Howard is going to give us a,----"

"Nutting party!" shouted Kittie, with a triumphant breath. "Hurrah, three cheer-r-s!"

"Mercy on me," cried a voice from up stairs. "What is the matter; what are you doing?"

"Kittie's dancing a jig, and Kat's sliding down the bannisters," exclaimed a horrified voice from somewhere else. "Mercy! Bea, call mama; I think they've gone crazy."

"Nutting party," cried Kittie, dancing furiously and nodding her head like a demented monkey. "To-morrow,----want to go?"

The girls had all collected by this time around the boisterous pair, and Bea flapped her sewing warningly, as Kat came whizzing down the bannisters for a final time, and landed with a dexterous jump, in the middle of the group.

"I'm going down town," said Ernestine, after hearing of the near and great event. "I can't go."

"Of course not," said Kittie, with great scorn. "You'd rather go down town, and be all the afternoon buying a shoe string, than get a Saratoga trunk full of nuts; but you'll want some of mine this winter."

Olive was busy on a picture, Bea had some sewing, so the twins must represent the Dering family, and accepted the matter quite blissfully, to judge from the way they raced off for parts unknown, and remained absent for some time, as if strange and wonderful preparations were necessary, and being undergone for to-morrow. They came back when the tea-bell rang, at least Kittie did, slowly and solemnly through the back yard, and lingered several minutes on the porch, with many mysterious signals to some one, down where the long yard sloped to the pond, and a fringe of willows shaded the water.

"Where's Kathy," inquired Ernestine, who strongly objected to the extremely abbreviated form of 'Kat.'

"Down at the pond, she's coming," answered Kittie, with a strangely worried look; but Ernestine flitted by without noticing it, and pretty soon Kittie quit leaning over the lattice and went in slowly.

Just as Mrs. Dering was leaving her room to go down to tea, she heard a peculiarly suspicious noise out in the back hall, unmistakably the careful opening of a window, as of someone on the low roof without, and pausing to listen, Mrs. Dering became convinced, that someone was surely making entrance to the house in that questionable manner. A midnight burglary was a rare occurrence in Canfield, but one in the early fall of evening, was beyond imagination, and yet Mrs. Dering was conscious of a little trepidation, as she tiptoed her way round to the back hall, and fancy pictured a man, with sly intent, coming over the window-sill. Whoever the intruder was, he was working with great care, and wholly unconscious of any one's approach, for when Mrs. Dering reached the corner and peeped around, the intruding head was just leveled, and coming through, carefully followed by a nimble body, but not clothed in the habiliments usually donned by burglars; instead, there appeared a blue calico much drenched and ornamented with wet weeds, an apron wholly unrecognizable as to color or design, and a drabbled hat hanging to the intruder's neck. As this queer apparition landed on the floor, Mrs. Bering stepped around the corner, whereupon the bold burglar jumped and screamed faintly, and the lady laughed, though she said with grave inquiry:

"Why Kathleen! What does this mean?"

"Oh, mama!" gasped the burglar, with a despairing glance at her dripping self. "I didn't want you to see me."

"Nor any one else, from the way you came in I should think. What is the matter?"

Kat grasped her wet hat, and looked desperately sorry and resigned all at once.

"Why, I went out in the boat," she said, twisting the wet ribbons around her fingers and dropping her eyes to the floor, with a little flush of shame, "and it upset, and I had to wade in, but I couldn't get it, and it's sailing upside down, way out in the pond. I don't know whatever you'd better do to me, I'm sure."

"Disobeyed papa. O Kathleen!"

"Well I didn't mean--," there Kat stopped, and swallowed several times very hastily; she would rather have been shaken, than to have heard that grieved tone. "I was only going to ride a little ways, but the wind blew me out; I know it was wrong, though, cause pap said, not to touch it."

"Go to your room and get off your wet clothes as quickly as possible, and after supper I will come and talk to you about it," said Mrs. Dering, turning away to hide the smile, that poor, dripping, shame-faced Kat could not but provoke.

The announcement that "Water-Rat" was face down out in the pond, caused dire dismay at the supper-table, so that when the meal was finished, and Mrs. Dering went up to talk to repentant Kat, the rest of the family all hurried down to the pond to view the disaster. There was the gayly painted boat, floating idly back and forth with the wind, out in the pond, and the girls expressed their great dismay in a dismal chorus of "Oh's," long prolonged, as it floated farther away. "Never mind," said papa Dering, briskly. "We'll get her all safe again, a little bath won't hurt her. Here Kittie, you're the best runner, go to the house and bring me the largest hammer and longest nails in the tool-chest. Be quick now." Kittie was off like a flash, and when she came back, there were three or four logs lying ready for use, with some planks and a long pole, and Mr. Bering with coat off, fell to work with a will and such speed, that in ten minutes, a small raft lay in the water, and Mr. Dering was making preparations for his voyage, by pulling off his boots and tucking his pants up.

"You don't suppose you could get drowned, do you papa," questioned Jean, somewhat overcome with these unusual proceedings, and clinging to her seat in a low willow with some trepidation.

"Not much, little one. I guess if Katty can wade out of this water, papa can, providing he's tipped in. Now good-bye, girls. Wish me well."

Kittie in the willow, and Bea and Ernestine on a log, gave three parting cheers with such force, that Kat, crying forlornly up in her room, ran to the window to see the fun, and watched with great interest the rescue of the "Water Rat," which Mr. Dering effected with great skill and many flourishes, to the delight of his audience. After being pulled out on the grass, face up again to dry, the rescued "Rat" was left to the twilight, while the party returned to the house.

The new arrangements had been in hand about a week, and so far, the girls were delighted and enthusiastic over "helping," though they did miss "Prince" and the buggy very much. As Mrs. Dering had said, papa decidedly objected to any such arrangements and privations, but one man against seven determined women!--oh, my! just think of it! So they had their way, and it was such a comfort to see, that already he began to look a little less worried and anxious when out of the store.

That night, when the girls went to bed, Kat was very much subdued, and kept her face quite persistently out of sight. Kittie administered comfort in broken and complete doses, but without much effect, for just now, when under the new enthusiasm, every one was doing her best in all ways, Kat felt her disgrace, more deeply than was customary for her, who fell into it, and out again pretty nearly every day, and so she refused to be comforted. Perhaps there was another reason for the complete and deep contrition. At any rate, she whispered to Kittie with a choke, that fought against being a sob,--before they went to sleep; "Oh, Kittie!--I can't go--go, nutting!"

Sure enough. Kat ate her breakfast with red eyes and a poor appetite the next morning, while the sun shone, as it surely never did before, and Kittie gayly laughed and chatted, but trying to be not too happy, as was consistent with the deep sympathy felt and expressed for suffering Kat, who had vanished beyond the power of sight or search, when at eight o'clock, a merry party halted at the gate, and the home girls, gayly escorted Kittie and her baskets down the walk.

That was a dismal morning to be sure. Kat did her portion of the work before any of the other girls came up stairs, and no one saw her again that morning, for with a volume of history, "St. Elmo," and six apples, she departed for the back roof, where she sat down and cried as hard as ever she could for five minutes, then opened the history, and took a fierce bite out of the biggest apple.

"There, I won't cry another tear, it's a blessing that I wasn't shut up for the day, instead of being allowed to roam around, when I can't let things alone that I'm told to. I'm going to learn a chapter of this history, now, before I read a word of 'St. Elmo,' though I don't see the use. Whatever do I care about the Edwards' and Henrys' and all that!" And then Kat shook herself, opened her book, and valiantly attacked Henry the Fifth, with every possible intention of doing just exactly what she said; but in about ten minutes a little puff of wind sailed across the roof, tossed open the cover of 'St. Elmo,' fluttered the leaves, then flew away, leaving them open, just where Edna goes to the old church for the last time, and Kat's eyes strayed right down to the tempting words, and somehow they did not come back at once.

That old roof was just like all the rest of the house, roomy, shady and cool. The flourishing top of a huge apple-tree reached over one side of it, with tempting seats in its boughs, and on another side, was the wide roomy window, with its worn sill, that led into the garret of the main part of the house. Solid comfort had it always been to the girls, and sometimes on warm Sunday afternoons, all the family might be found, distributed over its flat, roomy surface, with old comforts and pillows, and a good supply of books and fans.

Crash! went something suddenly and away sailed "St. Elmo," to bump his villainously fascinating head against the chimney, while Kat jerked her history open again and heard the profoundest and most melancholy sigh.

"What's the use! 'Henry the Fifth was born,'--I wonder who cares, dear me, I wish Kittie was here! 'Was born on'"--But, as if in answer to that wish so heartily uttered, there came two arms around her neck, and there was Kittie, laughing gayly as she nodded her head.

"I just wonder if you thought I would go to a nutting party, when you couldn't," she exclaimed. "I guess I haven't forgotten who was whipped in school the other day to save me. Bless me! Studying history!"

"Why, Kittie Dering!" was all the answer, she received from astonished Kat, "Didn't you go!"

"Looks as if I didn't, don't it?"

"And just for me?"

"Just for you!"

Thereupon, Bea, who was watching at the window, went down stairs, and reported that Kittie and Kat were having a "love feast" out on the roof.

That afternoon, amusements flagged. It was unusually warm for so late in the year, and Kat stretched lazily out on a bench, under the trees, while Kittie sat on the grass, and enjoyed herself pleasantly with nothing. "I tell you," exclaimed the latter, with a hearty jump, occasioned partly, by a new idea, partly by the sight of a huge spider, that was lumbering over the grass towards her. "Let's go over to the new church."

"What for?"

"Walk on the foundation; it's all finished and splendid to race on all the way round."

"Jolly idea," cried Kat, jumping from her bench, forgetting a previous assertion, that it was, "too hot to move!" and away they went, down the walk, at the usual break-neck speed taken by them, when in a hurry; Kittie rushing through the gate, while Kat nimbly cleared the fence.

Nobody was around to see, or be horrified, for it was on the edge of town, and anyhow, it seemed utterly impossible to convince these girls that they were nearly thirteen years' old, and ought to stop being such hoydens. Bea's little cautions, Ernestine's careful talks and examples of grace and dignity, Olive's open ridicule, and Jean's childish wonder, were all set aside, by a quiet smile from mama, or papa's hearty exclamation of--"let them alone--they're the only boys I've got." So Kittie and Kat romped to their heart's content, while mama took care that it did not make them too rude, and mended their torn clothes, with a patient smile, sometimes saying to herself: "Never mind, it makes them happy and strong; so, as long as I am well, and have the time, I'll not complain of a few rips and tears."

The new church, was only around the corner in a large green field, and the foundation, broad, and not too nigh, was a tempting place to run; so they clambered up, and raced back and forth, and all around several times, 'till out of breath, then Kat paused, and looked about with a contemplative and venturesome air.

"See here, Kittie, I'm going to walk across that narrow wall, where they haven't finished."

"Pretty high; you'd better not;" replied Kittie, measuring the proposed walk with a careful eye. "How will you get up?"

"Climb; it's only a step or two higher than this."

Kittie leisurely followed the more adventuresome twin, and called out suddenly: "Kat, there's an immense mud-hole at one side; looks as if it might be deep too; better hold on."

"Hurrah!" shouted Kat, in answer, as she balanced herself on the top of the narrow wall. "Here I go!" And there she did go, sure enough, for turning to nod triumphantly at Kittie, away went her balance, and after two or three of the wildest, most fearful struggles, down came Kat, head and heels right into the mud-hole.

"Oh, my goodness,--ha, ha,--my gracious; Oh-h! Kat Dering!" shrieked Kittie, dancing wildly up and down. "Oh, Kat; if I ever--what a--a sight! Oh--my!" and away went Kittie in another shriek, that pretty nearly knocked her off the wall, and even made Kat smile while the tears trickled down her muddy cheeks.

"I'm sunk clear to my knees," she cried despondently. "And my wrist feels so funny; Kittie, come, help me."

Kittie jumped down in a hurry; examined the limp and already swelling wrist with anxious gravity, and then nearly strangled with laughter when, after several vigorous tugs and struggles, Kat came out of the mud, leaving both her slippers hopelessly buried, and her clothes so heavy she could hardly walk.

[Illustration: KAT AND KIT.]

"Oh, Kittie! what shall I do," she cried, giving up entirely, between the sharp pain in her wrist, and the speedy arrival of this second disgrace. "It's only yesterday, that I crawled into the house in this fix; I can't go again."

"Never mind; I'll go," said Kittie, lost in sympathy. "Everybody is in the front part of the house, and I'll slip in the back way, go in over the roof, and bring you some clothes. Just sit down here and wait; I'll hurry, and it'll be all right."

So Kat sat down, quite pale with the painful wrist, and meditated, in a desperate fashion, on her inability to keep out of trouble and mischief; But Kittie was back in an incredibly short space of time, all flushed and panting, and with a little bundle of clothes tucked under her arm.

"Here Kat is a skirt, and dress, and stockings, and my slippers," she cried, running inside the wall where Kat sat forlornly.

"No one saw me; here hurry. How's your wrist?"

"Hurts," said Kat briefly, finding tears inclined to obstruct her utterance; and then they were silent, while the muddy garments were hastily laid aside and the dry ones slipped on; and the two started round-a-bouts for home.

A little while later, Kittie appeared at the sitting-room door, where the girls were sewing with mother, while Ernestine trilled and warbled at the piano. Mrs. Dering came out to the hall in answer to Kittie's beckon, and received this somewhat incoherent report:

"Kat's upstairs; we walked the foundation, and she fell off the high part; I took her some clothes, but I don't know what she's done to her wrist;" and Mrs. Dering did not waste any time trying to get a straighter report, but hurried up stairs, where Kat was lying on the bed, moaning and trying not to cry, with the painfully swollen wrist, laid out on a pillow. Twenty minutes' later the doctor was there with splints and bandages, and Kat, looking into his eyes with a vague alarm, asked, after he had examined it: "How long before I can use it?"

"Many weeks, Kathleen."

"Why, is it badly sprained?"

"Worse, I think, my dear little girl, for it is pretty badly broken."

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