in the middle of june kenneth came down with the scarlet fever. this was very unpleasant for kenneth, and for kenneth’s papa and mamma, who were just making ready to move the family down to the island for the summer. it was very hard for rose, too; for of course she could not play with kenneth nor even see him for fear lest she too should catch the fever. it was a terrible thing for rose not to see kenneth for days and weeks.
they decided to send her away into the country, to the farm where aunt mary and uncle john with rose’s cousin charlie carroll had gone to live. aunt mary said that she would be glad to play for a while that rose was her own little girl, for poor aunt mary had no little girl of her own. and charlie[67] thought that it would be great fun to have a little sister; for you see he had never had one. and that is why he did not make a very good kind of brother at first.
rose had not been in the country long before she began to miss kenneth more than ever,—more even than she had expected. it was all charlie’s fault.
charlie had his naughty days,—every one has naughty days, sometimes, until he learns better. but it happened unfortunately that charlie’s naughtiest time came the very day after rose arrived in the country, when she was feeling especially lonesome, and before she was acquainted with the new house and the barn and the new pets and playthings. she began to be homesick almost as soon as her father said good-by to her and went away to the train which would carry him home to mamma and kenneth and the city. but she was still more homesick the next morning, when she woke up and remembered that she was not going to see kenneth all that long,[68] bright, beautiful, out-of-doorsy day. so you see she needed very much that charlie should be extra kind and good to her.
charlie’s mamma lay awake that morning smiling to herself to think how nice it was that rose was going to be charlie’s little sister for a time, and how happy he would make her in this beautiful country, showing her the new kittens, and the rabbits, and old brindle’s little calf, and the flower-garden,—all the things which charlie had enjoyed so much since he had come into the county to live. but that was before she knew this was charlie’s naughty day.
from the moment when he first opened his eyes and got out of the wrong side of the bed, charlie was in trouble, and his mother had to speak to him so many times that she was ashamed to have rose hear.
after breakfast, when rose cried eagerly, “oh, charlie, now will you show me everything?” charlie sulked and said, “oh, bother!” and when rose followed him out[69] into the garden, he tried to run away from her. but rose could run fast too, and he soon found her panting at his heels.
“what makes you run so fast, charlie?” she asked. “i can hardly keep up with you.”
“well, i don’t want you to keep up with me,” he answered, turning his back on her and slapping his stick at a poor sunflower. “you had better go back to the house. i don’t want to play with you.”
rose’s eyes filled with tears and she said, “what makes you so bad to me, charlie? i haven’t seen you for a long time, but i thought you were a nice, pleasant boy, like kenneth. oh, how i wish i could go back to kenneth!”
“go home as soon as you please,” said charlie rudely. “i don’t want you for a sister if you are so fussy and cross.”
“i am not fussy and cross!” cried rose indignantly. “you have been very impolite and horrid to me, and i am ashamed of you!”
then, i am sorry to say, charlie did a very[70] naughty thing. he pushed rose roughly, so that she fell down and bruised her poor little knee. she tried not to cry, but the tears would come. and when she saw charlie disappear around the corner of the house with his hands in his pockets, as if he did not care at all, she began to sob.
“i wish i had not come to the country!” she whimpered.
now from the parlor window charlie’s mother had seen this last naughtiness, and straightway she went after her boy, who was kicking his toe against the piazza steps.
“charlie, you have been a very naughty boy,” she said. “you have hurt your little cousin, and i must punish you. what makes you so bad to-day? i thought you and rose would have such pleasant times together!”
“i don’t like girls,” said charlie sulkily. “they are telltales and cry-babies. i am glad i pushed her.”
“charlie!” exclaimed his mother, much shocked. “go right up to the dark room[71] and sit down in a chair and stay there until you are sorry. when you are truly sorry you can come out and tell rose.”
“i shan’t ever be sorry,” said charlie obstinately. “and i will never tell her that i am.”
“then you will have no supper to-night,” said his mother firmly. “go, now. do as i tell you, charlie.”
charlie knew that it was not safe to linger when his mother spoke in that tone. he stamped up the three flights of stairs and opened the door of the dark room. it was a spare chamber that was seldom used, save on charlie’s naughty days. the blinds were closed tight, and not a ray of the beautiful summer sunshine could enter. instead, there was a gloomy, greenish dimness, which was not at all pleasant. and the room was very, very still. the rest of the world seemed a long way off.
charlie dragged a chair into the middle of the room and sat down, kicking the rungs with his feet. it was all rose’s fault. he had given[72] her only a tiny push, and it could not have hurt her much. she was such a cry-baby and telltale! of course it must have been she who had told his mother all about it. he could hear the faint sound of old carlo barking outside, and fancied he caught echoes of rose’s happy laughter. yes, undoubtedly the mean little thing was playing with carlo, enjoying herself in the beautiful sunshine as if nothing had happened, while he was shut up in the old dark room! charlie thought of all the fine things he had planned to do this day, if something had not gone wrong from the very beginning.
a great fly buzzed against the window pane, and for a time charlie was interested in watching it bump its foolish head again and again. but he soon grew tired of the sight and sound. what a stupid way to spend a beautiful day, watching an old fly in a dark room! how the minutes dragged that usually galloped away too fast! he had only to say that he was sorry, and he might come out. but he was not sorry, and he would never tell rose so.
[73]the time dragged on. the fly had ceased to buzz, and carlo to bark. there was no sound inside or outside the dark room. probably rose had gone to ride. mamma had promised to take them to the lake, where they could learn to row. what fun that would have been! now rose was enjoying it alone. selfish little thing!
charlie began to fidget. the chair was hard and uncomfortable; he thought he must have been sitting there for hours. luncheon time was over and gone. it must be almost evening. surely it was growing even darker in the dark room. how could he ever bear to stay there all night alone—without any supper, too! he began to feel very hungry indeed. suppose he should starve to death! that would make rose feel badly enough. he hoped it would break her heart. a tear rolled down the side of his nose at the thought of his sad fate.
just then he heard a sound outside the door. the knob turned, and in tiptoed a little figure[74] in white, with yellow hair and blue ribbons. it was rose. her face was tear-stained, and she looked piteously at him without speaking. charlie frowned, and turned his head away. he was not sorry.
rose stood first on one foot and then on the other, glancing shyly at charlie, as if hoping that he would speak. but he only sulked and kicked the chair-rung harder. at last she dragged another chair from a corner of the room, placed its back to his, climbed up into it and sat down.
“h’m!” thought charlie, “she has been naughty too. now mamma sees that i am not the only bad one. i wonder how long she will have to stay here.”
they sat silent for a long time, back to back. then charlie heard a sniff behind him. he knew that rose was crying. “i am glad of it!” he said to himself. “i am glad she was naughty and had to be punished. usually girls are not punished like boys. they are lucky, and manage to escape.”
another little sniff from rose; then a long silence. at last she spoke, in a half-sobbing voice: “it is beautiful out of doors. but it is horrid in this dark room.” charlie made no reply. presently rose tried again. “how long have you got to stay here, charlie?”
“i don’t know,” he answered gruffly; “all night, perhaps.”
“oh!” rose’s tone was startled, and again there was a long silence.
“aren’t you going to have any supper, charlie?” she asked wistfully.
“no,” said charlie. “are you?”
“n-no,” said rose hesitating, and then she gave a very long sigh.
charlie chuckled. she had “told” of him. it was her fault. since he had to suffer, it was some comfort to think that she must do so also. he was not a bit sorry.
“i wish we could have gone to the lake,” sighed rose again. “i s’pect aunt mary went without us.” at this tantalizing thought charlie retorted angrily:—
[76]“if you had not been a cry-baby and a telltale, mother wouldn’t have punished me, and we could both have gone.”
“i didn’t tell!” cried rose indignantly. “i wouldn’t have told if you had broken my leg off. i can’t bear telltales, and i wouldn’t be one for anything.”
“well, how did mother know, then?” asked charlie, somewhat less crossly.
“i s’pose she looked out of the window and saw you push me, and i s’pose she saw that i was mis’able.”
“cry-baby!” taunted charlie scornfully.
“i am not a cry-baby,” said rose, with a quaver in her voice. “it took all the skin off my knee—look!—and it hurts awfully when i bend it around, so. but i never told aunt mary, and she doesn’t know. i cried a little because—because you hurt my feelings; that was why.”
“humph!” grunted charlie, looking at the bruised, tender little knee. he tried to make light of it, but his cheeks reddened,[77] and he felt ashamed. rose was such a little thing, after all.
rose writhed in her seat. “must you stay in the chair all the time?” she asked over her shoulder.
“yes,” said charlie briefly.
“it is so hard! i thought—if we could stand up, or sit down on the floor—maybe—but anyway we might play something else, some kind of quiet game; twenty questions, or—or something. would you like to do that, charlie?” she twisted about in the chair and eyed the back of his head wistfully. charlie hardened his heart.
“no,” he said crossly. “i don’t want to play anything in this horrid old dark room.”
“it isn’t quite so lonesome now that i am here, is it?” asked rose anxiously. charlie made no reply. “i thought you might be glad for company,” she went on. “i don’t mind being here—much. but it is nicer outside. there is carlo—hear him bark! and there are the sunshine and the birds and flowers—and[78] everything. oh, it is lovely here in the country! i thought we would have such good times together, charlie, as we used to do when you lived in the city, only here it is much nicer. you have so many lovely things to show me, aunt mary said. but now”— she stopped short as if afraid of hurting his feelings.
“how long have you got to stay here?” asked charlie, wishing that she would go away.
“oh, i don’t know,” she answered; “perhaps all night. but i hope not.”
“why, what did you do that was so bad?” asked charlie, turning half around, in surprised interest.
“i? oh, i—i—i didn’t do anything,” stammered rose.
“then why did mamma send you here?” he demanded.
“she didn’t send me. she doesn’t know i’m here. she thinks that i am in the summer-house with carlo and my dolls, where she left me—hours ago.”
[79]“then what did you come here for?” charlie looked at her sternly. she dropped her eyes and fidgeted with the ruffle of her dress.
“i—i came because i didn’t want you to be punished all alone. p’rhaps if i hadn’t come to your house you would not have been naughty at all; so it was partly my fault. i am so sorry, charlie! i shall stay here as long as you do.”
charlie whirled around in his chair and sat back resolutely. he would not be sorry. yes, it had been her fault; she had made him angry. let her stay and be unhappy!
they sat very still for a time, then charlie felt a little hand steal around the chair-back and touch his gently. but he jerked away.
“are you angry, charlie, because i came?” asked the soft little voice. “if you are very angry, i will go away. but i had much rather stay here in the dark with you. i—i am so lonesome without kenneth, and you are all the brother i have now. won’t you let me be your[80] little truly sister and do as i would if you were kenneth? when i knew you were shut up here it made me so unhappy that i couldn’t play. i couldn’t even enjoy the sunshine and the flowers. if you go without your supper, so shall i. and if you stay here all night, i—i think i shall not be afraid to stay with you. but i hope auntie will let you out before then.”
“no, she will not,” said charlie, positively. “i know she will not.”
“not if i ask her? not if i tell her that it makes me very sad to have you here?” rose’s voice trembled.
“no,” said charlie, “i don’t think i shall ever come out.”
“oh!” cried rose in horror. “then we shall die here together. we shall starve to death like the babes in the woods; but there will be no robin redbreasts to cover us with leaves. oh, charlie! surely aunt mary would not be so cruel.”
charlie could not bear to have any one[81] think so of his kind mother. “mamma is not cruel,” he said. “if i stay here it is my own choice. i could come out now, if i chose to—to say—something.”
rose clapped her hands. “oh, say it, say it now, charlie!” she cried.
at that moment a bell rang invitingly from downstairs. “do say it, charlie,” she begged. “there is the supper bell, and i am so hungry, aren’t you?”
charlie was very hungry, but he bit his lip and answered, “no, i will not say it.”
“oh, why not?” begged rose. “what is it that you must say? is it so very hard?”
“well,—i must say that i am sorry because i pushed you.” charlie blurted out the words with a gulp of shame.
“oh, charlie! and you are not sorry?” rose pleaded.
“no, i am not sorry.”
“not a little bit?”
“no, not one bit.”
rose gave a little sigh and sank back in her[82] chair. “well, then i s’pose we must stay here and be hungry. for of course you mustn’t say it unless you are really and truly sorry—not even for the sake of supper. but oh! i know there is going to be jelly-roll. i saw maggie making it this morning.”
charlie kicked the chair hard. “let’s try to think about something else,” went on rose cheerfully; “then perhaps we shall forget to be hungry. let’s talk about—about carlo.”
“oh, do keep still!” grumbled charlie. “i don’t want to talk at all.” rose was silent for some minutes. then she began to speak again, half to herself.
“i think i will go home to-morrow, if i don’t starve before that. i will go to kenneth, who will be so glad to see me, even if he is sick. maybe i shall catch the fever and die. but that would be better than living where i have no little brother to love me. after i am gone, charlie can come out, for of course auntie will not ask him to tell me he is sorry[83] if i am not here to listen. then carlo and the rabbits and brindle and the calf will all be glad to see charlie again, and no one will miss me, for i am only a silly little girl who spoils the beautiful country so that no one is happy here any more.” here rose gave a great sob. charlie wriggled uncomfortably in his chair.
“i say, rose, don’t talk like that. i don’t want you to go home. it wasn’t your fault. i was very bad to you,” he stammered.
“but it was my fault, too,” cried rose eagerly. “i ought not to have said you were impolite and horrid. even when you pushed me—”
“i am sorry i did that, rose,” interrupted charlie quickly. “i am, truly. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”
once more the little hand stole around the chair-back and crept into his own. charlie did not drop it this time. “you said it!” cried rose. “oh, charlie! i am so glad! now we can go down to supper.”
[84]charlie stared. “said it? what do you mean? what have i said?”
“why, you said it; that you were sorry,” cried rose, clapping her hands. “so it is all right now.”
charlie looked rather silly. “i—i didn’t mean to say it,” he faltered. “i said i would never say it, and i meant what i said. but i am sorry, and now i am glad i said i was.” this sounded very queer, but rose knew what he meant, and was quite satisfied.
at this moment the door opened and charlie’s mamma appeared, looking anxious.
“oh, here you are, rose, my child,” she said. “who would have thought to find you here! i was so worried. we have been looking for you all over the place. have you been here all this beautiful afternoon, you poor little thing?” she looked reproachfully at charlie.
“i wanted to stay here,” said rose cheerfully. “but i am glad it is time to come out now.”
[85]“come, then, dearie; you must be very hungry,” said charlie’s mother, taking rose’s hand and leading her towards the door. but rose hung back.
“you come too, charlie,” she smiled.
“mamma,” said charlie bravely, “i am sorry i was naughty to rose. i have just told her so. she is a brick, and i wish she was going to be my truly sister always. for the rest of her visit i am going to make her have the best time she ever knew.”
then the supper bell rang again, anxiously, and the two children took hold of hands, scampering down the stairs like hungry puppies when they hear their master’s whistle.
