A great fly buzzed against the window pane, and for a time Charlie was interested in watching it bump its foolish head again and again. But he soon grew tired of the sight and sound. What a stupid way to spend a beautiful day, watching an old fly in a dark room! How the minutes dragged that usually galloped away too fast! He had only to say that he was sorry, and he might come out. But he was not sorry, and he would never tell Rose so.
The time dragged on. The fly had ceased to buzz, and Carlo to bark. There was no sound inside or outside the dark room. Probably Rose had gone to ride. Mamma had promised to take them to the lake, where they could learn to row. What fun that would have been! Now Rose was enjoying it alone. Selfish little thing!
Charlie began to fidget. The chair was hard and uncomfortable; he thought he must have been sitting there for hours. Luncheon time was over and gone. It must be almost evening. Surely it was growing even darker in the dark room. How could he ever bear to stay there all night alone—without any supper, too! He began to feel very hungry indeed. Suppose he should starve to death! That would make Rose feel badly enough. He hoped it would break her heart. A tear rolled down the side of his nose at the thought of his sad fate.
Just then he heard a sound outside the door. The knob turned, and in tiptoed a little figure in white, with yellow hair and blue ribbons. It was Rose. Her face was tear-stained, and she looked piteously at him without speaking. Charlie frowned, and turned his head away. He was not sorry.
Rose stood first on one foot and then on the other, glancing shyly at Charlie, as if hoping that he would speak. But he only sulked and kicked the chair-rung harder. At last she dragged another chair from a corner of the room, placed its back to his, climbed up into it and sat down.
“H’m!” thought Charlie, “She has been naughty too. Now Mamma sees that I am not the only bad one. I wonder how long she will have to stay here.”
They sat silent for a long time, back to back. Then Charlie heard a sniff behind him. He knew that Rose was crying. “I am glad of it!” he said to himself. “I am glad she was naughty and had to be punished. Usually girls are not punished like boys. They are lucky, and manage to escape.”
IN TIPTOED A LITTLE FIGURE
Another little sniff from Rose; then a long silence. At last she spoke, in a half-sobbing voice: “It is beautiful out of doors. But it is horrid in this dark room.” Charlie made no reply. Presently Rose tried again. “How long have you got to stay here, Charlie?”