Elsie's New Relations Part 25

"I don't want to tell you, 'cause you wouldn't ever do such a wicked thing, and you--you'd despise me if you knew I'd done it," sobbed Gracie.

"No, I wouldn't. You are better than I am. Papa said I was worse than you and Max both put together. So you needn't mind my knowing."

"I meddled and broke mamma's pretty bottle that her dead father gave her; but she didn't scold me for that; not a bit; but--but 'cause I tried to put the blame on puss, and--and said I--I never touched her things when she wasn't here."

"O Gracie, that _was_ wicked! to say what wasn't true! I think papa would have whipped you, for I've heard him say if there was anything he would punish severely in one of his children, it was falsehood. But don't cry so. I'm sure you're sorry and won't ever do it again."

"No, no! never, never! Mamma hugged me up in her arms and cried hard 'cause I'd been so wicked. And she asked Jesus to forgive me and make me good, so I shouldn't have to go to that dreadful place. Now go away, Lu, 'cause she said I must stay alone."

"Yes, I will; but stop crying or you'll be sick," Lulu said, kissing Gracie, then left the room and went to her own to make herself neat before going down to join the family at tea.

Her thoughts were busy with Gracie and her trouble while she brushed her hair, washed her hands, and changed her dress. "Poor, little weak thing, she was frightened into it, of course, for it's the very first time she ever told an untruth. I suppose Mamma Vi must have looked very cross about the broken bottle; and she needn't, I'm sure, for she has plenty of money to buy more. Such a shame! but I just knew she wouldn't always be kind to us."

Thus Lulu worked herself up into a pa.s.sion, quite forgetting, in her unreasonable anger, how very mild was the punishment Violet had decreed to Gracie (if indeed it was meant as such at all); so much less severe than the one she herself had said their father would have been likely to administer.

Max was riding without companion or attendant. He had taken the direction of the village, but not with any thought of going there until, as he reached its outskirts, it occurred to him that he was nearly out of wood for carving, and that this would be a good opportunity for laying in a supply.

The only difficulty was that he had not asked leave before starting, and it was well understood that he was not at liberty to go anywhere--visiting or shopping--without permission.

"How provoking!" he exclaimed half aloud. "I haven't time to go back and ask leave, and a long storm may set in before to-morrow, and so my work be stopped for two or three days. I'll just go on, for what's the difference, anyhow? I'm almost there, and I know I'd have got leave if I'd only thought of asking."

So on he went, made his purchase, and set off home with it.

He was rather late: a storm seemed brewing, and as he rode up the avenue Violet was at the window looking out a little anxiously for him.

Mr. Dinsmore, hearing her relieved exclamation, "Ah, there he is!" came to her side as Max was in the act of dismounting.

"The boy has evidently been into the town making a purchase," he said.

"Had he permission from you or any one, Violet?"

"Not from me, grandpa," she answered with reluctance.

"Did you give him leave, Elsie?" he asked, turning to his daughter. "Or you, wife?"

Both answered in the negative, and with a very stern countenance Mr.

Dinsmore went out to the hall to meet the delinquent.

"Where have you been, Max?" he asked, in no honeyed accents.

"For a ride, sir," returned the lad respectfully.

"Not merely for a ride," Mr. Dinsmore said, pointing to the package in the boy's hand; "you did not pick that up by the roadside. Where have you been?"

"I stopped at Turner's just long enough to buy this wood that I shall need for carving to-morrow. I should have asked leave, but forgot to do so."

"Then you should have come home and left the errand for another day. You were well aware that in going without permission you were breaking rules.

You will go immediately to your room and stay there until this time to-morrow."

"I think you're very hard on a fellow," muttered Max, flushing with mortification and anger as he turned to obey.

Lulu, coming down the stairs, had heard and seen it all. She stood still for a moment at the foot of the stairway, giving Mr. Dinsmore a look that, had it been a dagger, would have stabbed him to the heart, but which he did not see; then, just as the tea-bell rang, turned and began the ascent again.

"Why are you going back, Lulu? did you not hear the supper bell?" asked Mr. Dinsmore.

"Yes, sir," she answered, facing him again with flashing eyes, "but if my brother is not to go to the table neither will I."

"Oh, very well," he said; "you certainly do not deserve a seat there after such a speech as that. Go to your own room and stay there until you find yourself in a more amiable and respectful mood."

It was exactly what she had intended to do, but because he ordered it, it instantly became the thing she did not want to do.

However, she went into her room, and closing the door after her, not too gently, said aloud with a stamp of her foot, "Hateful old tyrant!" then walked on into Violet's dressing-room, where her sister still was.

Gracie had lain down upon a sofa and wept herself to sleep, but the supper bell had waked her, and she was crying again. Catching sight of Lulu's flushed, angry face, she asked what was the matter.

"I wish we could go away from these people and never, never come back again!" cried Lulu in her vehement way.

"I don't," said Gracie. "I love mamma and Grandma Elsie, and Grandma Rose, and Grandpa Dinsmore, too, and----"

"I hate him! I'd like to beat him! the old tyrant!" interrupted Lulu, in a burst of pa.s.sion.

"O Lu! I'm sure he's been kind to us; they're all kind to us when we're good," expostulated Grace. "But what has happened to make you so angry, and why aren't you eating your supper with the rest?"

"Do you think I'd go and sit at the table with them when they won't have you and Max there, too?"

"What about Max? did he do something wrong, too?"

"No; it wasn't anything wicked; he just bought some wood for his carving with some of his own money."

"But maybe he went without leave?" Gracie said, half inquiringly.

"Yes, that was it; he forgot to ask. A very little thing to punish him for, I'm sure; but Mr. Dinsmore (I sha'n't call him grandpa) says he must stay in his own room till this time to-morrow."

"Why," said Gracie, "that's worse than mamma's punishment to me for--for doing such a wicked, wicked thing!"

"Yes, she's not such a cruel tyrant. He'd have beaten you black and blue.

I hope she won't tell him about it."

A terrified look came into Gracie's eyes, and she burst out crying again.

"O Gracie, don't!" Lulu entreated, kneeling down beside the sofa and clasping her arms about her. "I didn't mean to frighten you so. Of course, Mamma Vi won't; if she meant to she'd have done it before now, and you'd have heard from him, too."

A step came along the hall, the door opened, and Agnes appeared bearing a large silver waiter.

"Ise brung yo' suppah, chillens," she said, setting it down on a table.

Then lifting a stand and placing it near Gracie's couch, she presently had it covered with a snowy cloth and a dainty little meal arranged upon it: broiled chicken, stewed oysters, delicate rolls, hot b.u.t.tered m.u.f.fins and waffles, canned peaches with sugar and rich cream, sponge cake, nice and fresh, and abundance of rich sweet milk.

The little girls viewed these dainties with great satisfaction, and suddenly discovered that they were very hungry.