"The plagued, bothering, ugly thing! My Lucia never shall wear such
a fit."
Beulah caught the discarded waist, and said quietly: "You can very easily make it fit, by taking up this seam and cutting
it out in the neck."
"I don't believe it."
"Then, hand me the doll and the scissors, and I will show you."
"Her name is Miss Lucia-di-Lammermoor. Mr. Green named her. Don't
say 'doll'; call her by her proper name," answered the spoiled
child, handing over the unfortunate waxen representative of a not
less unfortunate heroine.
"Well, then, Miss Lucia-di-Lammermoor," said Beulah, smiling. A few
alterations reduced the dress to proper dimensions, and Annie
arrayed her favorite in it, with no slight degree of satisfaction.
The obliging manner of the new nurse won her heart, and she began to
chat pleasantly enough. About two o'clock Mrs. Martin returned,
inquired after Johnny, and again absented herself to "see about
dinner." Beulah was very weary of the close, disordered room, and as
the babe amused himself with his ivory rattle, she swept the floor,
dusted the furniture, and arranged the chairs. The loud ringing of a
bell startled her, and she conjectured dinner was ready. Some time
elapsed before any of the family returned, and then Laura entered,
looking very sullen. She took charge of the babe, and rather
ungraciously desired the nurse to get her dinner.
"I do not wish any," answered Beulah.
At this stage of the conversation the door opened, and a boy,
seemingly about Eugene's age, entered the room. He looked curiously
at Beulah, inclined his head slightly, and joined his sister at the
fire.
"How do you like her, Laura?" he asked, in a distinct undertone.
"Oh, I suppose she will do well enough! but she is horribly ugly,"
replied Laura, in a similar key.
"I don't know, sis. It is what Dr. Patton, the lecturer on
physiognomy, would call a 'striking' face."
"Yes, strikingly ugly, Dick. Her forehead juts over, like the eaves
of the kitchen, and her eyebrows--"
"Hush! she will hear you. Come down and play that new waltz for me,
like a good sister." The two left the room. Beulah had heard every
word; she could not avoid it, and as she recalled Mrs. Grayson's
remark concerning her appearance on the previous day, her
countenance reflected her intense mortification. She pressed her
face against the window-pane and stared vacantly out. The elevated
position commanded a fine view of the town, and on the eastern
horizon the blue waters of the harbor glittered with "silvery
sheen." At any other time, and with different emotions, Beulah's
love of the beautiful would have been particularly gratified by this
extended prospect; but now the whole possessed no charms for her
darkened spirit. For the moment, earth was black-hued to her gaze;
she only saw "horribly ugly" inscribed on sky and water. Her soul
seemed to leap forward and view nearer the myriad motes that floated
in the haze of the future. She leaned over the vast whirring lottery
wheel of life, and saw a blank come up, with her name stamped upon
it. But the grim smile faded from her lips, and brave endurance
looked out from the large, sad eyes, as she murmured, "Be not like dumb, driven cattle, Be a hero in the strife."