“Not stupid, Cherry.”
“Oh yes, mother. I am not clever—not a bit,” said Cherry, smiling, though I fancied tears were in her eyes. “Cress never cares for what I say. If it were Jack—”
Cherry’s face changed with the last four words. It is always supposed that twins are united by peculiar ties of affection; but if so, the present case was an exception. Cherry loved all her brothers, Cress included, no doubt; yet Jack was far more to her than Cress. How could it be otherwise? Jack was always good to his sister, while Cress incessantly contradicted and snubbed her. It was “only Cress’ way,” she said—as we all said; nevertheless it was a thing impossible that she should feel towards Cress as she felt towards sunny-tempered, loving-hearted Jack. I often thought Cherry’s love for our eldest boy was beautiful to see.
“Yes, if it were Jack!” I repeated. “There would be no need for any words then. Jack never has unreasonable wants.”
And for a minute or two we both praised Jack to our hearts’ content. I think it did us good. Cherry and I were quite at one on that subject. Then we both began to feel some compunction about Cress—our handsome, clever, spoilt Cress!
“After all, it isn’t Cress’ fault,” Cherry observed. “He never does understand about household matters like Jack.”
“It is time he should learn,” I said; but already my wise resolution was giving way. Cherry saw this at once.
“Mother, you meant to get me a new jacket soon. There’s no need. I can do without it one more year, and Cress can have his shoes.”
“My dear Cherry, you simply cannot squeeze yourself into the old jacket,” I said. “Think how long you have had it, and how much you have grown. It is so brown too.”
“I’ll try if I can’t freshen it up and put in one or two gussets somewhere,” Cherry said, in her bright way. “That will be the best plan. You see, mother, it won’t do to let Cress get his feet wet. It would make him ill. And he says he has holes coming in his best shoes, just where they can’t be properly mended.”