"Tut, tut! don't speak to me in that manner," said her grandfather. "If your dog continues to damage valuable property, he shall be sent away."

Rosie made no reply, but colored deeply as she turned and walked away with her pet in her arms.

"Now, Lulu," said Mr. Dinsmore, not unkindly, "remember that in future you are not to bring a valuable book such as this, out here. If you want to look at them, do so in the library."

"Yes, sir, I will. I'm very sorry about that; but if you'll tell me, please, how much it would cost to buy another just like it, I'll write to papa, and I know he will pay for it."

"I thought you proposed to pay for it yourself," remarked Mr. Dinsmore grimly.

"Yes, sir; but I don't wish to keep you waiting; papa wouldn't wish it.

He sends his children pocket-money every once in a while, and I'd ask him to keep back what he considered my share till it would count up to as much as the price of the book."

"Well, child, that is honorable and right," Mr. Dinsmore said in a pleasanter tone; "but I think we will let the matter rest now till your father comes, which I trust will be before a very great while."

Rosie, knowing that her grandfather was quite capable of carrying out his threat, lacking neither the ability nor the will to do so, curtailed the liberty of her pet, and exerted herself to keep him out of mischief.

Still, he occasionally came in Lulu's way, and when he did was very apt to receive a blow or kick.

He had a fashion of catching at her skirts with his teeth, and giving them a jerk, which was very exasperating to her--all the more so, that Rosie evidently enjoyed seeing him do it.

A stop would have been put to the "fun" if the older people of the family had happened to be aware of what was going on; but the dog always seemed to seize the opportunity when none of them were by, and Lulu scorned to tell tales.

One morning, about a week after the accident to the book, Lulu, coming down a little before the ringing of the breakfast-bell, found Max on the veranda.

"Don't you want to take a ride with me after breakfast, Lu?" he asked.

"Mamma Vi says I can have her pony; and, as Rosie doesn't care to go, of course you can ride hers."

"How do you know Rosie doesn't want to ride?" asked Lulu.

"Because I heard her tell her mother she didn't; that she meant to drive over to Roselands with grandpa Dinsmore instead; that he had told her he expected to go there to see Cal about some business matter, and would take her with him. So you see, her pony won't be wanted; and grandma Elsie has often said we could have it whenever it wasn't in use or tired, and of course it must be quite fresh this morning."

"Then I'll go," said Lulu with satisfaction; for she was extremely fond of riding, especially when her steed was Rosie's pretty, easy-going pony, Gyp.

So Max ordered the two ponies to be in readiness; and, as soon as breakfast was over, Lulu hastened to her room to prepare for her ride.

But in the mean time Mr. Dinsmore had told Rosie he had, for some reason, changed his plans, and should wait till afternoon to make his call at Roselands.

Then Rosie, glancing from the window, and seeing her pony at the door, ready saddled and bridled, suddenly decided to take a ride, ran to her room, donned riding hat and habit, and was down again a little in advance of Lulu.

Max, who was on the veranda, waiting for his sister, felt rather dismayed at sight of Rosie, as she came tripping out in riding-attire.

"O Rosie! excuse me," he said. "I heard you say you were going to drive to Roselands with your grandpa, and so, as I was sure you wouldn't be wanting your pony, I ordered him saddled for Lu."

"That happened very well, because he is here now all ready for me,"

returned Rosie, laughing, as she vaulted into the saddle, hardly giving Max a chance to help her. "Lu can have him another time. Come, will you go with me?"

For an instant Max hesitated. He did not like to refuse Rosie's request, as she was not allowed to go alone outside the grounds, yet was equally averse to seem to desert Lu.

"But," he thought, "she's sure to be in a pa.s.sion when she finds this out, and I can't bear to see it."

So he sprang upon his waiting steed; and as Lulu, ready dressed for her ride, and eager to take it, stepped out upon the veranda, she just caught a glimpse of the two horses and their riders disappearing down the avenue.

She turned white with anger at the sight, and stamped her foot in fury, exclaiming between her clinched teeth, "It's the meanest trick I ever saw!"

There were several servants standing near, one of them little Elsie's nurse, an old negress, Aunt Dinah, who, having lived in the family for more than twenty years, felt herself privileged to speak her mind upon occasion, particularly to its younger members.

"Now, Miss Lu," she said, "dat's not de propah way fo' you to talk 'bout dis t'ing; kase dat pony b'longs to Miss Rosie, an' co'se she hab de right to ride him befo' anybody else."

"You've no call to put in your word, and I'm not going to be lectured and reproved by a servant!" retorted Lulu pa.s.sionately; and turning quickly away, she strode to the head of the short flight of steps leading down into the avenue, and stood there leaning against a pillar, with her back toward the other occupants of the veranda. Her left arm was round the pillar, and in her right hand she held her little riding-whip.

She was angry at Dinah, furiously angry at Rosie; and when the next minute something--Rosie's dog, she supposed--tugged at her skirts, she gave a vicious backward kick without turning her head.

Instantly a sound of something falling, accompanied by a faint, frightened little cry, and chorus of shrieks of dismay from older voices flashed upon her the terrible knowledge that she had sent her baby sister rolling down the steps to the hard gravel-walk below.

She clutched at her pillar, almost losing consciousness for one brief moment, in her dreadful fright.

Violet's agonized cry, as she came rushing from the open doorway, "My baby! oh, my baby! she's killed!" roused her: and she saw Dinah pick up the little creature from the ground, and place it in its mother's arms, where it lay limp and white, like a dead thing, without sense or motion; the whole household, young and old, black and white, gathering round in wild excitement and grief.

No one so much as glanced at her, or seemed to think of her at all: their attention was wholly occupied with the injured little one.

She shuddered as she caught a glimpse of its deathlike face, then put her hand over her eyes to shut out the fearful sight. She felt as if she were turning to stone with a sense of the awful thing she had done in her mad pa.s.sion; then suddenly seized with an overwhelming desire to hide herself from all these eyes, that would presently be gazing accusingly and threateningly at her, she hurried away to her own room, and shut and locked herself in.

Her riding-whip was still in her hand. She tossed it on to the window-sill, tore off her gloves, hat, and habit, and threw them aside, then, dropping on her knees beside the bed, buried her face in the clothes, sobbing wildly, "Oh, I've killed my little sister! my own dear little baby sister! What shall I do? what shall I do?"

Moments pa.s.sed that seemed like hours: faint sounds came up from below.

She heard steps and voices, and, "Was that mamma Vi crying,--crying as if her heart would break? saying over and over again, 'My baby's dead!

my baby's dead! killed by her sister, her cruel, pa.s.sionate sister!'

Would they come and take her (Lulu) to jail? Would they try her for murder, and hang her? Oh! then papa's heart would break, losing two of his children in such dreadful ways.

"Oh! wouldn't it break anyhow when he heard what she had done,--when he knew the baby was dead, and that she had killed it, even if she should not be sent to prison, and tried for murder?"

At length some one tried the door; and a little, sobbing voice said, "Lulu, please let me in."

She rose, staggered to the door, and unlocked it. "Is it only you, Gracie?" she asked in a terrified whisper, opening it just far enough to admit the little slender figure.

"Yes: there's n.o.body else here," said the child. "I came to tell you the baby isn't dead; but the doctor has come, and, I believe, he doesn't feel sure she won't die. O Lu! how could you?" she asked with a burst of sobs.

"O Gracie! I didn't do it on purpose! how could you think so? I mean, I didn't know it was the baby: I thought it was that hateful dog."

"Oh, I'm glad! I couldn't b'lieve it, though some of them do!" exclaimed Gracie in a tone of relief.

Then, with a fresh burst of tears and sobs, "But she's dreadfully hurt, the dear little thing! I heard the doctor tell grandpa Dinsmore he was afraid she'd never get over it; but he mustn't let mamma know yet, 'cause maybe she might."

Lulu paced the room, wringing her hands and sobbing like one distracted.

"O Gracie!" she cried, "I'd like to beat myself black and blue! I just hope papa will come home and do it, because I ought to be made to suffer ever so much for hurting the baby so."

"O Lu, no!" cried Gracie, aghast at the very idea. "It wouldn't do the baby any good. Oh, I hope papa won't whip you!"