“Steve, I want you to tell me something,” said Rose to Dandy, who was
making faces at himself in the glass, while he waited for an answer to
the note he brought from his mother to Aunt Plenty.
“P'raps I will, and p'raps I won't. What is it?”
“Haven't Arch and Charlie quarrelled?”
“Dare say; we fellows are always having little rows, you know. I do
believe a sty is coming on my star-board eye,” and Steve affected to be
absorbed in a survey of his yellow lashes.
“No, that won't do; I want to know all about it; for I'm sure something
more serious than a 'little row' is the matter. Come, please tell me,
Stenie, there's a dear.”
“Botheration! you don't want me to turn telltale, do you?” growled
Steve, pulling his top-knot, as he always did when perplexed.
“Yes, I do,” was Rose's decided answer for she saw from his manner that
she was right, and determined to have the secret out of him if coaxing
would do it. “I don't wish you to tell things to everyone, of course,
but to me you may, and you must, because I have a right to know. You
boys need somebody to look after you, and I'm going to do it, for girls
are nice peacemakers, and know how to manage people. Uncle said so, and
he is never wrong.”
Steve was about to indulge in a derisive hoot at the idea of her looking
after them, but a sudden thought restrained him, and suggested a way in
which he could satisfy Rose, and better himself at the same time.
“What will you give me if I'll tell you every bit about it?” he asked,
with a sudden red in his cheeks and an uneasy look in his eyes, for he
was half ashamed of the proposition.
“What do you want?” and Rose looked up rather surprised at his question.
“I'd like to borrow some money. I shouldn't think of asking you, only
Mac never has a cent. since he's set up his old chemical shop, where
he'll blow himself to bits some day, and you and uncle will have the fun
of putting him together again,” and Steve tried to look as if the idea
amused him.
“I'll lend it to you with pleasure, so tell away,” said Rose, bound to
get at the secret.
Evidently much relieved by the promise, Steve set his top-knot
cheerfully erect again, and briefly stated the case.
“As you say, it's all right to tell you, but don't let the boys know
I blabbed, or Prince will take my head off. You see, Archie don't like
some of the fellows Charlie goes with, and cuts 'em. That makes Prince
mad, and he holds on just to plague Arch, so they don't speak to one
another, if they can help it, and that's the row.”
“Are those boys bad?” asked Rose, anxiously.
“Guess not, only rather wild. They are older than our fellows, but
they like Prince, he's such a jolly boy; sings so well, dances jigs and
breakdowns, you know, and plays any game that's going. He beat Morse at
billiards, and that's something to brag of, for Morse thinks he knows
everything. I saw the match, and it was great fun!”
Steve got quite excited over the prowess of Charlie, whom he admired
immensely, and tried to imitate. Rose did not know half the danger
of such gifts and tastes as Charlie's, but felt instinctively that
something must be wrong if Archie disapproved.
“If Prince likes any billiard-playing boy better than Archie, I don't
think much of his sense,” she said severely.
“Of course he doesn't; but, you see, Charlie and Arch are both as proud
as they can be, and won't give in. I suppose Arch is right, but I don't
blame Charlie a bit for liking to be with the others sometimes, they are
such a jolly set,” and Steve shook his head morally, even while his eye
twinkled over the memory of some of the exploits of the “jolly set.”
“Oh, dear me!” sighed Rose, “I don't see what I can do about it, but
I wish the boys would make up, for Prince can't come to any harm with
Archie, he's so good and sensible.”
“That's the trouble; Arch preaches, and Prince won't stand it. He
told Arch he was a prig and a parson, and Arch told him he wasn't a
gentleman. My boots! weren't they both mad, though! I thought for a
minute they'd pitch into one another and have it out. Wish they had, and
not gone stalking round stiff and glum ever since. Mac and I settle our
rows with a bat or so over the head, and then we are all right.”
Rose couldn't help laughing as Steve sparred away at a fat sofa-pillow,
to illustrate his meaning; and, having given it several scientific
whacks, he pulled down his cuffs and smiled upon her with benign pity
for her feminine ignorance of this summary way of settling a quarrel.
“What droll things boys are!” she said, with a mixture of admiration and
perplexity in her face, which Steve accepted as a compliment to his sex.
“We're a pretty clever invention, miss, and you can't get on without
us,” he answered, with his nose in the air. Then, taking a sudden plunge
into business, he added, “How about that bit of money you were going to
lend me? I've told, now you pay up.”
“Of course I will! How much do you want?” and Rose pulled out her purse.
“Could you spare five dollars? I want to pay a little debt of honour
that is rather pressing,” and Steve put on a mannish air that was
comical to see.
“Aren't all debts honourable?” asked innocent Rose.
“Yes, of course; but this is a bet I made, and it ought to be settled up
at once,” began Steve, finding it awkward to explain.
“Oh, don't bet, it's not right, and I know your father wouldn't like it.
Promise you won't do so again; please promise!” and Rose held fast the
hand into which she had just put the money.
“Well, I won't. It's worried me a good deal, but I was joked into it.
Much obliged, cousin, I'm all right now,” and Steve departed hastily.
Having decided to be a peace-maker, Rose waited for an opportunity, and
very soon it came.
She was spending the day with Aunt Clara, who had been entertaining some
young guests, and invited Rose to meet them, for she thought it high
time her niece conquered her bashfulness and saw a little of society.
Dinner was over, and everyone had gone. Aunt Clara was resting before
going out to an evening party, and Rose was waiting for Charlie to come
and take her home.
She sat alone in the elegant drawing-room, feeling particularly nice and
pretty, for she had her best frock on, a pair of gold bands her aunt had
just given her, and a tea-rose bud in her sash, like the beautiful Miss
Van Tassel, whom everyone admired. She had spread out her little skirts
to the best advantage, and, leaning back in a luxurious chair, sat
admiring her own feet in new slippers with rosettes almost as big as
dahlias. Presently Charlie came lounging in, looking rather sleepy and
queer, Rose thought. On seeing her, however, he roused up and said with
a smile that ended in a gape,
“I thought you were with mother, so I took forty winks after I got those
girls off. Now, I'm at your service, Rosamunda, whenever you like.”
“You look as if your head ached. If it does, don't mind me. I'm not
afraid to run home alone, it's so early,” answered Rose, observing the
flushed cheeks and heavy eyes of her cousin.
“I think I see myself letting you do it. Champagne always makes my
headache, but the air will set me up.”
“Why do you drink it, then?” asked Rose, anxiously.
“Can't help it, when I'm host. Now, don't you begin to lecture; I've had
enough of Archie's old-fashioned notions, and I don't want any more.”
Charlie's tone was decidedly cross, and his whole manner so unlike his
usual merry good-nature, that Rose felt crushed, and answered meekly,
“I wasn't going to lecture, only when people like other people, they
can't bear to see them suffer pain.”
That brought Charlie round at once, for Rose's lips trembled a little,
though she tried to hide it by smelling the flower she pulled from her
sash.
“I'm a regular bear, and I beg your pardon for being so cross, Rosy,” he
said in the old frank way that was so winning.
“I wish you'd beg Archie's too, and be good friends again. You never
were cross when he was your chum,” Rose said, looking up at him as he
bent toward her from the low chimney-piece, where he had been leaning
his elbows.
In an instant he stood as stiff and straight as a ramrod, and the heavy
eyes kindled with an angry spark as he said, in his high and mighty
manner,
“You'd better not meddle with what you don't understand, cousin.”
“But I do understand, and it troubles me very much to see you so cold
and stiff to one another. You always used to be together, and now you
hardly speak. You are so ready to beg my pardon I don't see why you
can't beg Archie's, if you are in the wrong.”
“I'm not!” this was so short and sharp that Rose started, and Charlie
added in a calmer but still very haughty tone: “A gentleman always begs
pardon when he has been rude to a lady, but one man doesn't apologize to
another man who has insulted him.”
“Oh, my heart, what a pepperpot!” thought Rose, and, hoping to make him
laugh, she added slyly: “I was not talking about men, but boys, and one
of them a Prince, who ought to set a good example to his subjects.”
But Charlie would not relent, and tried to turn the subject by saying
gravely, as he unfastened the little gold ring from his watch-guard,
“I've broken my word, so I want to give this back and free you from the
bargain. I'm sorry, but I think it a foolish promise, and don't intend
to keep it. Choose a pair of ear-rings to suit yourself, as my forfeit.
You have a right to wear them now.”
“No, I can only wear one, and that is no use, for Archie will keep his
word I'm sure!” Rose was so mortified and grieved at this downfall
of her hopes that she spoke sharply, and would not take the ring the
deserter offered her.
He shrugged his shoulders, and threw it into her lap, trying to look
cool and careless, but failing entirely, for he was ashamed of himself,
and out of sorts generally. Rose wanted to cry, but pride would not
let her, and, being very angry, she relieved herself by talk instead of
tears. Looking pale and excited, she rose out of her chair, cast away
the ring, and said in a voice that she vainly tried to keep steady,
“You are not at all the boy I thought you were, and I don't respect you
one bit. I've tried to help you be good, but you won't let me, and I
shall not try any more. You talk a great deal about being a gentleman,
but you are not, for you've broken your word, and I can never trust
you again. I don't wish you to go home with me. I'd rather have Mary.
Good-night.”
And with that last dreadful blow, Rose walked out of the room, leaving
Charlie as much astonished as if one of his pet pigeons had flown in his
face and pecked at him. She was so seldom angry, that when her temper
did get the better of her it made a deep impression on the lads, for
it was generally a righteous sort of indignation at some injustice or
wrong-doing, not childish passion.
Her little thunderstorm cleared off in a sob or two as she put on her
things in the entry-closet, and when she emerged she looked the brighter
for the shower. A hasty good-night to Aunt Clara now under the hands of
the hairdresser and then she crept down to find Mary the maid. But
Mary was out, so was the man, and Rose slipped away by the back-door,
flattering herself that she had escaped the awkwardness of having
Charlie for escort.
There she was mistaken, however, for the gate had hardly closed behind
her when a well-known tramp was heard, and the Prince was beside her,
saying in a tone of penitent politeness that banished Rose's wrath like
magic,
“You needn't speak to me if you don't choose, but I must see you safely
home, cousin.”
She turned at once, put out her hand, and answered heartily,
“I was the cross one. Please forgive me, and let's be friends again.”
Now that was better than a dozen sermons on the beauty of forgiveness,
and did Charlie more good, for it showed him how sweet humility was, and
proved that Rose practised as she preached.
He shook the hand warmly, then drew it through his arm and said, as if
anxious to recover the good opinion with the loss of which he had been
threatened,
“Look here, Rosy, I've put the ring back, and I'm going to try again.
But you don't know how hard it is to stand being laughed at.”
“Yes, I do! Ariadne plagues me every time I see her, because I don't
wear ear-rings after all the trouble I had getting ready for them.”
“Ah, but her twaddle isn't half as bad as the chaffing I get. It takes
a deal of pluck to hold out when you are told you are tied to an apron
string, and all that sort of thing,” sighed Charlie.
“I thought you had a 'deal of pluck,' as you call it. The boys all say
you are the bravest of the seven,” said Rose.
“So I am about some things, but I cannot bear to be laughed at.”
“It is hard, but if one is right won't that make it easier?”
“Not to me; it might to a pious parson like Arch.”
“Please don't call him names! I guess he has what is called moral
courage, and you physical courage. Uncle explained the difference to
me, and moral is the best, though often it doesn't look so,” said Rose
thoughtfully.
Charlie didn't like that, and answered quickly, “I don't believe he'd
stand it any better than I do, if he had those fellows at him.”
“Perhaps that's why he keeps out of their way, and wants you to.”
Rose had him there, and Charlie felt it, but would not give in just
yet, though he was going fast, for somehow, in the dark he seemed to
see things clearer than in the light, and found it very easy to be
confidential when it was “only Rose.”
“If he was my brother, now, he'd have some right to interfere,” began
Charlie, in an injured tone.
“I wish he was!” cried Rose.
“So do I,” answered Charlie, and then they both laughed at his
inconsistency.
The laugh did them good, and when Prince spoke again, it was in a
different tone pensive, not proud nor perverse.
“You see, it's hard upon me that I have no brothers and sisters. The
others are better off and needn't go abroad for chums if they don't
like. I am all alone, and I'd be thankful even for a little sister.”
Rose thought that very pathetic, and, overlooking the uncomplimentary
word “even” in that last sentence, she said, with a timid sort of
earnestness that conquered her cousin at once,
“Play I was a little sister. I know I'm silly, but perhaps I'm better
than nothing, and I'd dearly love to do it.”
“So should I! and we will, for you are not silly, my dear, but a very
sensible girl, we all think, and I'm proud to have you for a sister.
There, now!” and Charlie looked down at the curly head bobbing along
beside him with real affection in his face.
Rose gave a skip of pleasure, and laid one seal-skin mitten over the
other on his arm, as she said happily,
“That's so nice of you! Now, you needn't be lonely any more, and I'll
try to fill Archie's place till he comes back, for I know he will, as
soon as you let him.”
“Well, I don't mind telling you that while he was my mate I never missed
brothers and sisters, or wanted anyone else; but since he cast me off,
I'll be hanged if I don't feel as forlorn as old Crusoe before Friday
turned up.”
This burst of confidence confirmed Rose in her purpose of winning
Charlie's Mentor back to him, but she said no more, contented to have
done so well. They parted excellent friends, and Prince went home,
wondering why “a fellow didn't mind saying things to a girl or woman
which they would die before they'd own to another fellow.”
Rose also had some sage reflections upon the subject, and fell asleep
thinking that there were a great many curious things in this world, and
feeling that she was beginning to find out some of them.
Next day she trudged up the hill to see Archie, and having told him
as much as she thought best about her talk with Charlie, begged him to
forget and forgive.
“I've been thinking that perhaps I ought to, though I am in the right.
I'm no end fond of Charlie, and he's the best-hearted lad alive; but he
can't say No, and that will play the mischief with him, if he does not
take care,” said Archie in his grave, kind way.
“While father was home, I was very busy with him, so Prince got into a
set I don't like. They try to be fast, and think it's manly, and they
flatter him, and lead him on to do all sorts of things play for money,
and bet, and loaf about. I hate to have him do so, and tried to stop it,
but went to work the wrong way, so we got into a mess.”
“He is all ready to make up if you don't say much, for he owned to me
he was wrong; but I don't think he will own it to you, in words,” began
Rose.
“I don't care for that; if he'll just drop those row-dies and come back,
I'll hold my tongue and not preach. I wonder if he owes those fellows
money, and so doesn't like to break off till he can pay it. I hope not,
but don't dare to ask; though, perhaps, Steve knows, he's always after
Prince, more's the pity,” and Archie looked anxious.
“I think Steve does know, for he talked about debts of honour the day I
gave him--” There Rose stopped short and turned scarlet.
But Archie ordered her to “fess,” and had the whole story in five
minutes, for none dared disobey the Chief. He completed her affliction
by putting a five-dollar bill into her pocket by main force, looking
both indignant and resolute as he said,
“Never do so again; but send Steve to me, if he is afraid to go to his
father. Charlie had nothing to do with that; he wouldn't borrow a penny
of a girl, don't think it. But that's the harm he does Steve, who adores
him, and tries to be like him in all things. Don't say a word; I'll make
it all right, and no one shall blame you.”
“Oh me! I always make trouble by trying to help, and then letting out
the wrong thing,” sighed Rose, much depressed by her slip of the tongue.
Archie comforted her with the novel remark that it was always best to
tell the truth, and made her quite cheerful by promising to heal the
breach with Charlie as soon as possible.
He kept his word so well that the very next afternoon, as Rose looked
out of the window, she beheld the joyful spectacle of Archie and Prince
coming up the avenue, arm-in-arm, as of old, talking away as if to make
up for the unhappy silence of the past weeks.
Rose dropped her work, hurried to the door, and, opening it wide, stood
there smiling down upon them so happily, that the faces of the lads
brightened as they ran up the steps eager to show that all was well with
them.
“Here's our little peace-maker!” said Archie, shaking hands with vigour.
But Charlie added, with a look that made Rose very proud and happy, “And
my little sister.”