AUNT ROSE CALLS
There had been many sunny days with blue skies, and never a cloud in
sight, when one day, to the surprise of everyone, the sky appeared to
be a solid mass of dark, leaden clouds, and the sea that for such a
long time had been glistening and sparkling, now showed only a dark
sullen surface, with here and there a whitecap to break its monotony.
Rose and Polly had decided to remain indoors, and all the afternoon
they had been busy sorting the shells that they had been collecting.
"I wish I had more of these," said Polly, pointing to a little heap of
oddly shaped shells, white in color, with here and there markings of
soft brown.
"I wish so too," Rose said. "We've less of that kind than we have of
any of the others. I wonder how it happened that we didn't get more of
those?"
"I don't know, but if it is pleasant to-morrow, let's hunt for some,"
said Polly.
Mrs. Sherwood called, and Polly putting the tray full of shells upon
the table, went out across the hall to reply.
Rose hurried down stairs to the hall, out onto the piazza, along the
flower bordered path to the gate, then out and off down the beach.
Polly never liked to be out when the sky was cloudy and the wind raw,
but Rose cared not a bit, and she had gone out thinking to give Polly
a surprise.
She meant to find some of the coveted shells, and run home with them
before Polly should have missed her.
She looked back at the Sherwood cottage. How pretty it was, and quite
like a country house with its well kept lawn, its flowers in the
gardens, and even at the gate, a rose vine clambering over.
Swiftly she ran along the beach to a spot where usually they had found
the most shells.
A few there were, but none like those that Polly wanted, and she
trudged along, looking sharply at every shell that lay imbedded in the
hard, wet sand, from which the tide had receded.
She had been gone nearly an hour although she did not dream that it
was so long since she had left the house.
She had known that Polly would not follow her, because of the cold
wind that was blowing so briskly. A rift in the clouds had let the
sunlight through, and when she reached the gate, the garden was bathed
in sunlight.
Rose paused for a moment to look at the flowers, now gay in the bright
sunshine, when the sound of voices came toward her, and while one was
the pleasant voice of Mrs. Sherwood, the other was surely the voice
of--Great Aunt Rose!
"Captain Atherton asked that Rose might remain with us while he is
away," Rose heard Mrs. Sherwood say to which the cold voice of Great
Aunt Rose replied sternly:
"Well, and if he did, I see no reason why she can not spend a part of
the time with me at the old Atherton house which I have always felt
was her proper home."
Little Rose Atherton's heart beat faster. She still stood at the
gate, and she wondered that, for a moment, neither spoke.
Then Great Aunt Rose broke the silence.
"I was away at the time of the wedding, but had I been present, I
should have at that time _insisted_ that the Captain leave her with
me, not only during his cruise on the _Dolphin_, but after his return.
"The young woman whom he has married is a beauty, and so of course,
will be too full of dress and society to have any interest in little
Rose. If John has chosen to wed a flighty beauty, he should at least
give Rose to me."
"Miss Vandmere is indeed beautiful to look at, but she is lovely in
character as well, and I know that she loves Rose," Mrs. Sherwood said
quietly.
She would not argue, but she felt that, in justice she must give
utterance to the fine regard in which she held Iris Vandmere.
[Illustration: "She still stood at the gate."]
"There are, I suppose, some beauties who are neither vain nor foolish,
but however that may be, I am determined to see Rose to-day, and to
ask her if she does not wish to return with me."
At these words uttered in a shrill, angry voice, Rose turned and raced
down the beach.
She dropped the shells that she had been tightly holding, and without
a thought of recovering them, she ran at top speed, as if, at that
very moment stately Great Aunt Rose had been actually chasing her.
She had no idea how far she had run, she had not paused for even a
second, nor had she once looked back. Now as she looked up, she saw a
narrow side street that commenced at the shore, but well up from the
water, and ran toward the center of the little village.
She was almost breathless as she turned into the little street, but
she dared not stop running.
The very thought of ever returning to the stately old Atherton house,
with its great dark halls, its formal drawing-room, and for companion,
gentle Aunt Lois, kind but so deaf that it was almost impossible to
talk with her, and cold, dignified, haughty Great Aunt Rose, filled
little Rose with terror.
She was now completely tired out, and as she turned the corner of the
next street, she stumbled, and would have fallen but for two strong
arms that caught her. She looked up.
"Why little Rose!"
"Oh, Aunt Judith! Dear Aunt Judith, take me home with you now, right
off, this very minute!" cried Rose. "Don't stop to ask why! Just take
me now! Come! They may be here any minute! Come!"
"Why, Rose! What does this mean?" cried Aunt Judith.
"I was on my way to call upon Mrs. Sherwood, and ask you and Polly to
come up to my little cottage and spend to-morrow with me, and here you
are, looking for all the world as if you were running away. I musn't
run off with you like this."
"Oh, but _do_, Aunt Judith. Please do! It isn't safe to wait a minute.
I'll tell you everything when we're safe at your cottage. Come!"
The fear in Rose's brown eyes was so evident, that although it seemed
a strange thing to do, Aunt Judith turned about, and with Rose
clinging to her arm, started in the direction of the station. A train
was already made up, and about to start for Avondale.
They were soon seated, and Rose drew a sigh of relief when the train
started.
"Now, I'm safe," she said, leaning against Aunt Judith.
It was not until they were inside the cottage at Avondale, at
twilight, the shades drawn and the lamps lighted that Rose told what
had frightened her, and why she had run away.
"I don't wonder that you were frightened," Aunt Judith said. "If John
had been at home you would have been brave, but gentle Mrs. Sherwood
seemed to you to be no match for Great Aunt Rose. I do not think as
you do. For all her gentleness Mrs. Sherwood is a fine character, and
I do not think she would permit anyone to take you from her home when
you had been left in her care by your Uncle John.
"There is another thing to be thought of. Great Aunt Rose has left the
Sherwood cottage long before this, and Mrs. Sherwood and Princess
Polly I believe are greatly frightened by your absence. Don't you know
that they must have been searching for you now for at least two hours,
and not finding you, they will fear that you have come to harm.
"If only you had told me what it was that had so frightened you, I
would have returned with you to Mrs. Sherwood, and have helped
convince your aunt that you could not go home with her.
"Great Aunt Rose would not actually take you by force."
"Oh, she would!" cried Rose, "and I'm glad we're here, but we can let
them know that I am safe, and that I am here with you, and why I came.
I'd go back to them to-morrow if I knew Great Aunt Rose wouldn't go
there again, and try to get me.
"Oh, the great old Atherton house is so grand, and yet so lonely, and
she doesn't love me. She was always telling me while I was there that
the reason she wanted me to live there was because I was an Atherton,
and she said the proper place for me to live was in the old Atherton
house.
"She said there had always been a 'Rose Atherton' in the family even
'way, 'way back, and that every 'Rose Atherton' had lived in that
house, and when I said I pitied them, she was angry, and she said I'd
no reason to. She said the others were proud of this family, and glad
to live there, and that I was the odd one. She said it was strange
I'd rather live with Uncle John, and I said it _wasn't_ strange
because he was so loving.
"Oh, I can't bear to think of the time that I lived there, and I'm
glad I ran away from Polly's house before Great Aunt Rose saw me. I
know she would have snatched me away from the Sherwood's.
"I was peeping in at the gate when I heard her voice.
"She was telling Mrs. Sherwood that I ought to go home and stay with
her while Uncle John is away.
"I didn't wait a minute, but raced down the beach just as fast as I
could. Then I thought if she came out, she might see me on the beach
even at a distance, so I turned into a side street, and the next
corner I turned brought me straight to you."
There was indeed consternation in the Sherwood cottage when, after the
unpleasant caller had left the house, Polly commenced to look for
Rose, and no Rose could be found, though thorough search was made, the
servants gladly assisting, and just as Polly was crying, and declaring
that she could not taste the least bit of food until Rose was found,
the telephone rang.
Glad news it was that Rose was safe with Aunt Judith, and Mrs.
Sherwood and Polly accepted Aunt Judith's invitation to come and spend
the next day at her cottage.
Aunt Judith had gone a short distance to Mrs. Grafton's house, and she
had sent her message from there.
"Hurrah!" cried Harry, as Aunt Judith turned from the telephone. "I'm
glad it happened that Rose had to run away, for we've missed her all
these weeks that she's been spending at the shore. We'll be over
to-morrow to see her, won't we, Leslie?" and he gave one of Leslie's
long curls a sly twitch.
"We surely will, unless you pull all my hair out when I'd want to hide
my head," Leslie said, laughing.
"Oh, pshaw! The way I pull your curls amounts to just love pats,"
Harry cried.
"You wouldn't say so if I twitched your hair like that," Leslie
responded.
"I guess I'll go down and get my hair shingled so you won't be able to
get hold of it," he said. "Lend me a quarter, Leslie? I spent all I
had to-day on candy and a new bat."
Leslie refused and Harry chased her, the two laughing as they ran.
"I never saw a brother and sister who played together so prettily,"
Aunt Judith said.
"They are great chums," Mrs. Grafton said. "Of course Harry has his
boy friends, and Leslie is very fond of Lena Lindsey, but for all that
my boy and girl are fast friends, and they love each other dearly."
"I like to see it," Aunt Judith said.
She hurried back to the cottage where Rose at the window was eagerly
watching for her.
"Mrs. Sherwood's voice sounded very anxious when she replied to my
call at the telephone, and the tone of quick relief when I told her
that you were safe here at the cottage with me was very evident.
"Polly had cried until she was about sick, but of course, she will be
all right now, and they will both be with us here to-morrow, for the
day."
"That will be fine," cried Rose, "and you'll set the larger table
to-morrow, and make it look fine, but to-night, Aunt Judith, just
to-night let's have the little tea table, just as we used to when I
lived here with you, with the pretty pale green dishes, and the dear
little sugar and cream set with the pink moss-rose buds on it. May we,
Aunt Judith?"
Aunt Judith came and took the pretty face between her two hands, and
looked into the eager brown eyes for a moment.
"We'll have our little tea just as we used to, because it will please
you, and because I'd like nothing better," she said.
"And let me help at the table, just as I used to," Rose said, and
together they worked, Rose bringing the rosebud china, while Aunt
Judith brought the pale green plates, and cups and saucers from the
little china closet, and placed them upon the dainty, spindle-legged
table. There were tiny, fresh rolls, chocolate with cream, a dish of
raspberry jam of which Rose was very fond, and even the little round
pound cakes that Rose so well remembered. Aunt Judith had sent a small
boy to purchase them for her while she was telephoning at Mrs.
Grafton's.
When all was ready, they took their places, Aunt Judith pouring the
chocolate, while Rose served the cream from the dainty jug, and
dropped the cubes of sugar from the quaint little silver tongs.
"Aunt Judith, I'm so happy with Uncle John, that everything I have at
his home seems perfect, but there's one queer thing that I don't
understand. No raspberry jam ever seems just like the jam I always
had at this cottage."
Aunt Judith was delighted.
"To think that you would always remember the jam, and think it a bit
nicer than any other!" she said.
"Perhaps it was because we were choice of it, and served it on Sundays
and holidays that made you think it extra nice."
Rose leaned toward her and laid her hand upon her arm. "And perhaps it
was because you always kept the jam in that lovely cream colored crock
that has the butterflies upon it. I do believe things taste nicer for
being kept in pretty jars like that."
"I think so, too," Aunt Judith said, "but your Uncle John has
beautiful china, so doubtless his housekeeper could find plenty of
pretty dishes for serving."
"Oh, she does," Rose replied, "but in the closet, the jam is kept in a
stone crock, while yours was always in the butterfly jar that I always
thought so lovely."
"The dearest thing about this cosy little tea is the fact----" Aunt
Judith bent to kiss her cheek, "that I have you for my guest, little
Rose."