9 What Katy Did Next - Bedtime Tales Stephanie Poppins

What Katy Did Next takes place a few years after What Katy Did and has Katy traveling to London, France, and Italy after receiving a once-in-a-lifetime offer to tour Europe.

In this episode, things get tense as the arrival of a local nun brings little relief for Amy.

Transcript

Hello.

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph.

A romantic bedtime podcast guaranteed to help you drift off into a calm relaxing sleep.

Come with me as we go back in time to visit Katie Carr.

She is all grown up now but she still has the same trials and tribulations she had as a child.

But before we begin let's take the time to focus on where we are now.

Take a deep breath in through your nose.

Take a deep breath in through your nose.

That's it.

Then let it out on a long sigh.

It is time to relax and really let go.

Feel yourself sink into the support beneath you.

And let the pressures of the day seep away.

Happy listening.

What Katie Did Next by Susan Coolidge Read and abridged by Stephanie Poppins Chapter Nine A Roman Holiday Oh dear,

Said Mrs.

Ash as she folded her letters and laid them aside.

I wish those pages would go away from niece or else that the frigates were not there.

Why?

What's the matter?

Asked Katie looking up from the many-leaved journal from Clover over which she was pouring.

Nothing is the matter except that those everlasting people haven't gone to Spain yet as they said they would and Ned seems to keep on seeing them,

Replied Mrs.

Ash petulantly.

But dear Polly,

What difference does it make?

Said Katie.

They never did promise you to go on any particular time,

Did they?

No,

They didn't,

But I wish they would all the same.

Not that Ned is such a goose as really to care anything for that foolish Lily.

Then Mrs.

Ash gave a laugh at her own inconsistency and added,

But I oughtn't to abuse her when she is your cousin.

Don't mention it,

Said Katie cheerfully.

But really,

I don't see why poor Lily need worry you so,

Polly dear.

The room in which this conversation took place was on the very topmost floor of the Hotel de Hondo in Rome.

It was large and many-windowed and though there was a little bed in one corner half-hidden behind a calico screen with a bureau and a washing stand and a sort of stout mahogany hat tree on which Katie's dresses and jackets were hanging,

The remaining space with a sofa and easy chairs grouped round a fire and a round table furnished with books and a lamp was ample enough to make a good substitute for the private sitting room,

Which Mrs.

Ash had not been able to procure on account of the near approach of the carnival and the consequence crowding of strangers to Rome.

In fact,

She was assured that under the circumstances she was lucky in finding rooms as good as these and she made the most of the assurance as a consolation for the somewhat unsatisfactory food and service of the hotel and the four long flights of stairs which must be passed every time they needed to reach the dining room.

The party had been in Rome only four days,

But already they'd seen a host of interesting things.

They had stood in the strange sunken space with its marble floor and broken columns,

Which is all that is left of the great Roman forum.

They had visited the Colosseum,

At that period still overhung with ivy garlands and trailing greeneries.

They had seen the Temple of Janus and St.

Peter's and the Vatican marbles.

They had driven out on the Campania to gather purple and red anemones and to the English cemetery to see the grave of Keats.

They had also peeped into certain shops and attended a reception at the American ministers.

In short,

Like most unwarned travelers,

They had done about twice as much as prudence and experience would have permitted at those worthies being consulted.

All the romance of Katie's nature responded to the fascination of the ancient city,

The capital of the world as it may truly be called.

The shortest drive or walk brought them face to face with innumerable and unexpected delights.

Now it was a wonderful fountain with plunging horses and colossal nymphs and tritons.

Now it was an arched doorway with traceries as fine as lace.

Now it was a shrine at the meeting of these streets where dim lamps burned beneath the effigy of the Madonna.

Or again it would be a sunlit terrace lifted high on a hillside and crowded with carriages full of beautifully dressed people,

While below all Rome seemed spread out like a panorama,

Dim,

Mighty,

Majestic and bounded by the blue wavy line of the Campania and the Alban hills.

Or perhaps it might be a wonderful double flight of steps with massive balustrades and pillars with urns on which sat a crowd of figures in strange costumes,

Who all looked as though they'd stepped out of pictures,

But who were in reality models waiting for artists to come by.

No matter what it was,

A bit of oddly tinted masonry with a tuft of brown and orange wolfflower hanging upon it,

Or a vegetable stall where chicory and curly lettuces were arranged in wreaths,

It was all Rome and by virtue of that word different from any other place they had seen.

More suggestive,

More interesting,

Ten times more mysterious than any other possibly could be,

So Katie thought.

This fact consoled her for everything and anything,

For the fleas,

The dirt and the queer things they had to eat.

Nothing seemed of any particular consequence except the deep sense of enjoyment and the newly discovered world.

The only drawback to her happiness was that little Amy did not seem quite well or like herself.

She had taken a cold on the journey from Naples,

And though it did not seem serious,

She looked rather pale and thin.

Her mother said she was growing fast,

But the explanation did not quite account for the wistful look in the child's eyes.

Mrs Ash,

With vague uneasiness,

Began to talk of cutting short their Roman stay and getting Amy off to the more bracing air of Florence.

But there was the carnival close at hand,

Which they must by no means lose,

And the feeling their opportunity might be a brief one.

So this made Katie all the more anxious to make the very most of their time.

They filled the days full of sights,

Of things to see and do.

They came and went,

Sometimes taking Amy with them,

But more often than not leaving her at the hotel under the care of a kind German chambermaid.

The marble things are so cold and the old broken things make me so sorry,

Said Amy,

And I hate beggars because they're dirty and the stairs make my back ache,

And I'd a great deal rather stay with Maria and go up on the roof if you don't mind,

Mama.

This roof,

Which Amy had chosen as a play place,

Covered the whole of the great hotel and had been turned into a sort of upper-air garden.

A tame fawn was tethered there,

And Amy adopted him as a playmate.

Katie always repaired to the roof as soon as they came in from their long mornings,

And years afterwards she will remember with contrition how pathetically glad Amy always was to see her.

On many of their excursions,

Mrs.

Ash and Katie delighted in the flowers,

Wreathed along the house fronts and tied to the many horses' ears,

In ladies' hands and gentlemen's buttonholes,

While vendors went up and down the street bearing great trays of violets and carnations and camellias.

They enjoyed the air,

Which was full of cries and laughter and shrill calls of merchants advertising their wares.

Candy,

Fruit,

Birds,

Lanterns and confetti,

The latter being merely lumps of lime,

Large or small,

With a pea or a bean embedded in each lump to give it a weight.

Boxes full of this unpleasant confection would be sold to the rich and famous.

Candies suspended in front of each balcony,

With tin scoops to use in ladling it out.

Everybody now wore or carried a wire mask as protection against the incessant showers,

And before long the air became full of a fine dust which hung above the corso like a mist,

And filled the eyes and noses and clothes of all present with irritating particles.

The days ran on,

Each wonder running into the next,

But one day,

Almost as soon as it was light,

Mrs.

Ash tapped at Katie's door in her dressing gown,

Her eyes large and frightened.

Amy is ill,

She cried,

She's been hot and feverish all night and she says her head aches dreadfully.

What shall I do,

Katie?

We ought to have a doctor at once and I don't know the name even of any doctor here.

Katie sat up in bed and for one bewildered moment did not speak.

Her brain felt in a whirl of confusion,

But presently it cleared and she saw what to do.

I will write a note to Mrs.

Sands,

She said.

Mrs.

Sands was the wife of the American minister and one of the few acquaintances they'd made when they came to Rome.

You remember how nice she was when we saw her?

She's lived here so long,

Of course she must know all about the doctors.

Don't you think that's the best thing to do?

The very best,

Said Mrs.

Ash,

Looking relieved.

I wonder I did not think of it myself.

But I'm so confused I can't think.

Write the note at once,

Please,

Dear Katie.

I will ring your bell for you and I must hurry back to Amy.

So Katie made haste with the note and the answer came promptly in half an hour.

While Mrs.

Ash pacified Amy to the best of her ability,

Katie hurried out in a quest of the pillow which she needed because hers,

She said,

Was too hard.

It proved an almost unattainable luxury.

But at last,

After a long search,

Katie secured an air cushion,

About 12 inches square,

And one old feather pillow which had come from some auction and had apparently lain for years in the corner of an old shop.

When this was encased in a fresh cover of flannel,

It did very well.

And this stilled Amy's complaints a little.

But all night she grew worse.

Dr.

Hillary came the next day and was forced to utter plainly the dreaded words,

Roman fever.

Amy was in for an attack,

A light one,

He hoped,

But they'd better know the truth and make ready for it.

Mrs.

Ash was utterly overwhelmed by this verdict and for the first bewildered moments did not know which way to turn.

But Katie happily kept a steady ahead.

She had the advantage of a little preparation of thought and decided beforehand what would be necessary to do.

There was a large room with corner windows,

And a smaller one opening from it,

And another still smaller close by.

These rooms,

Without much consultation with Mrs.

Ash,

She decided we would arrange.

From the larger room she had the carpet,

Curtains and furniture taken away,

And the floor scrubbed with hot soap suds.

The bed was pulled out from the wall to allow free circulation of air.

The smaller room she made as comfortable as possible for the use of Mrs.

Ash.

And when everything was ready,

Little Amy,

Wrapped in her coverings,

Was made as comfortable as possible.

By the next day the necessity of a nurse became apparent,

And in the afternoon Katie started out a little hired carriage in search of one.

A shower of lime dust aroused her.

It came from a party of burly figures in white cotton dominoes whose carriage had been stayed by the crowd close to her own.

It was then she remembered the convent nearby.

She approached them,

And they promised to send a sister the next morning,

With the proviso that every second day she was to come back to sleep and rest.

Katie was too thankful for any aid to make objections,

And she drove home with visions of saintly nuns,

With pure pale faces full of peace and resignation,

Floating before her eyes.

Sister Ambrosia,

When she appeared the next day,

Did not exactly realise these imaginations.

She was a plump little person with rosy cheeks,

A pair of demure black eyes,

And very obstinate mouth.

It soon appeared that natural inclination,

Combined with the rules of her convent,

Made her theory of a nurse's duties a very limited one.

"'We sisters care for the sick,

' she said.

"'We are not allowed to converse with porters and hotel people.

'" In fact,

All that Sister Ambrosia seemed able or willing to do beyond the bathing of Amy's face and brushing her hair,

Was to sit by the bedside telling her rosary,

Or plying a little ebony shuttle in the mattress of her bed.

Or plying a little ebony shuttle in the manufacture of a long strip of tatting.

Even this amount of usefulness was interfered with by the fact that Amy,

Who by this time was in a semi-delirious condition,

Had taken an aversion to her at the first glance,

And was not willing to be left with her for a single moment.

Her little voice was raised to a shrill scream,

And Mrs.

Ashen Katie,

Hurrying back,

Found Amy sitting up on her pillow with wet scarlet flushed cheeks and eyes,

Bright with fever,

Ready to throw herself out of bed.

Sister Ambrosia,

Meanwhile,

Was placidly telling her beads and muttering prayers to herself.

Some of these prayers,

I do not doubt,

Related to Amy's recovery,

If not to her conversion,

And were well-meant.

But all being what it was,

They were rather irritating under the circumstances.

Reviews

I love the description of Rome. Intriguing, and so fond of flowers. 🌺💞