face, that she intended
to stand upon her dignity till they had properly abased themselves. The
pause was becoming very awkward, when Charlie, who possessed all the
persuasive arts of a born scapegrace, went slowly down upon his knees
before her, beat his breast, and said, in a heart-broken tone,

"Please forgive me this time, and I'll never do so any more."

It was very hard to keep sober, but Rose managed it and answered gravely,

"It is Mac's pardon you should ask, not mine, for you haven't hurt me,
and I shouldn't wonder if you had him a great deal, with all that light
and racket, and talk about things that only worry him."

"Do you really think we've hurt him, cousin?" asked Archie, with a
troubled look, while Charlie settled down in a remorseful heap among the
table legs.

"Yes, I do, for he has got a raging headache, and his eyes are as red as
as this emery bag," answered Rose, solemnly plunging her needle into a
fat flannel strawberry.

Steve tore his hair, metaphorically speaking, for he clutched his
cherished top-knot, and wildly dishevelled it, as if that was the
heaviest penance he could inflict upon himself at such short notice.
Charlie laid himself out flat, melodramatically begging someone to take
him away and hang him; but Archie, who felt worst of all, said nothing
except to vow within himself that he would read to Mac till his own eyes
were as red as a dozen emery bags combined.

Seeing the wholesome effects of her treatment upon these culprits, Rose
felt that she might relent and allow them a gleam of hope. She found
it impossible to help trampling upon the prostrate Prince a little, in
words at least, for he had hurt her feelings oftener than he knew; so
she gave him a thimble-pie on the top of his head, and said, with an air
of an infinitely superior being,

"Don't be silly, but get up, and I'll tell you something much better to
do than sprawling on the floor and getting all over lint."

Charlie obediently sat himself upon a hassock at her feet; the other
sinners drew near to catch the words of wisdom about to fall from her
lips, and Rose, softened by this gratifying humility, addressed them in
her most maternal tone.

"Now, boys, if you really want to be good to Mac, you can do it in this
way. Don't keep talking about things he can't do, or go and tell what
fun you have had batting your ridiculous balls about. Get some nice book
and read quietly; cheer him up about school, and offer to