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She's a bad, naughty girl!" "Well, Katy Carr, I should think you'd be ashamed of yourself," said Aunt Izzie, "wreaking your temper on your poor little sister! I think your Cousin Helen will be surprised when she hears this. There, there, Elsie! Don't cry any more, dear. Come up stairs with me. I'll put on some arnica, and Katy sha'n't hurt you again." So they went up stairs.
They were very sorry for Katy, but the room was so gloomy, and Katy so cross, that they didn't mind much not being allowed to see her. In those days Katy made Aunt Izzie keep the blinds shut tight, and she lay in the dark, thinking how miserable she was, and how wretched all the rest of her life was going to be.
And I shall pick up the croquet-balls and put them in the box every night." "Yes," added Elsie, "so will I, when she gets well." It never occurred to either of them that perhaps Aunt Izzie might not get well. Little people are apt to feel as if grown folks are so strong and so big, that nothing can possibly happen to them. Katy was more anxious. Still she did not fairly realize the danger.
"So-o-oh, my golden one," she began, lying back in her chair with Izzie on her lap "so-o-oh, you had friends by the house when mamma was by hospital." "On'y one," Morris answered faintly. "Well, I ain't scoldin'," said his mother. "Where iss your friend? I likes I shall look on him. Ain't he comin' round to-night?"
So the two girls put their heads together and held a long, mysterious confabulation. What it was about, we shall see farther on. Valentine's-Day was the next Friday. When the children came home from school on Thursday afternoon, Aunt Izzie met them, and, to their great surprise, told them that Cecy was come to drink tea, and they must all go up stairs and be made nice.
I suppose cookies and vinegar had taken away their appetites, for none of them were hungry, and Dorry astonished Aunt Izzie very much by eyeing the table in a disgusted way, and saying: "Pshaw! only plum sweatmeats and sponge cake and hot biscuit! I don't want any supper." "What ails the child? he must be sick," said Dr. Carr; but Katy explained.
Clover was kneeling beside her with a pale, scared face, and Aunt Izzie was dropping something cold and wet on her forehead. "What's the matter?" said Katy, faintly. "Oh, she's alive she's alive!" and Clover put her arms round Katy's neck and sobbed. "Hush, dear!" Aunt Izzie's voice sounded unusually gentle. "You've had a bad tumble, Katy. Don't you recollect?" "A tumble?
Vacations are just splendid!" and she gave her bag another toss. It fell to the ground with a crash. "There, you've cracked your slate," said Clover. "No matter, I sha'n't want it again for eight weeks," replied Katy, comfortably, as they ran up the steps. They burst open the front door and raced up stairs, crying "Hurrah! hurrah! vacation's begun. Aunt Izzie, vacation's begun!"
She caught at the door to save herself; the door flew open; and Katy, with the tray, cream, raspberries, rose and all, descended in a confused heap upon the carpet. "I told you so!" exclaimed Aunt Izzie from the bottom of the stairs. Katy never forgot how kind Cousin Helen was on this occasion. She was in bed, and was of course a good deal startled at the sudden crash and tumble on her floor.
Nothing would have induced Izzie to leave her mother then, even had Louis attempted it, but he did not, he stood by the mantlepiece watching them, with an unpleasant sensation, that baby had no power to dry those tears. He remained there a long time, his head resting on his hand, while Natalie and baby fell asleep together.
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