By-and-by, Rose came to the door, wanting to know if her cousin had nearly finished her letter.
"Yes," Mavis replied, "I'm ending up now. Come in, Rosie."
So Rose came in. The two little girls had become very friendly by this time, for, though there was a difference of two years in their ages, in many ways Mavis appeared as old if not older than her cousin, no doubt because she had always been to a great extent in her mother's confidence. Rose had lived her twelve years in a home where she had had every comfort. Whilst Mavis had known times when she and her mother could not have told from what source the wherewithal was to come to provide them with the necessaries of life, and yet God had never allowed them to want, He had given them always sufficient for their needs.
"What is the matter, Rose?" said Mavis, as, having put away her writing materials, she turned her attention to her cousin, who stood at the window with an expression of gloom on her face.
"Nothing more than usual," Rose answered, in a tone which implied that she generally had much to bear. "Mother's been scolding me," she proceeded, as Mavis continued to look at her inquiringly. "She says she's most dissatisfied with the progress I'm making at school, that if I'm not careful you'll soon get ahead of me, and—and I can't help it, if you do. I try to learn, Mavis, but I'm so slow, and—oh, you mustn't think that I'm jealous of you, for I'm not!"
"Of course I don't think that, Rosie," Mavis replied, greatly distressed at the sight of her cousin's tearful eyes and quivering lips. "It wouldn't be true, if you did. I told mother that Miss Matthews said it was quite likely you would be raised into my class next term. I thought she'd be pleased; but, instead, she was angry with me, and called me a dunce. Perhaps I am a dunce," Rose admitted, with a sob. "If I am, I can't help it."
Mavis did not know what to say. She was aware that Rose learnt with difficulty, and that her mother was frequently impatient with her for being so slow, which seemed to her very unkind. And she had looked forward to being in the same class as her cousin, because she thought it would be pleasant for them to do their lessons together.
"Miss Matthews knows that I try to get on," Rose continued, in the same aggrieved tone. "She never complains of me, and I don't consider mother ought to have scolded me, just because I'm not so sharp as other girls. She doesn't worry Bob about his lessons like she does me. Bob's her favourite, and he can do nothing amiss. I declare I won't try to learn any more, for mother's sure to find fault with me, anyway! It's most unjust."
"I don't suppose Aunt Lizzie understands how hard you try to learn," Mavis said, putting her arms around Rose and kissing her flushed cheek. "Don't be unhappy about it, dear. You do your best, I'm sure."
"That's why I feel it's so hard mother should be cross with me, Mavis. I don't idle my time away, like some of the girls at school do, and—and she says I must, or I shouldn't be so backward." Rose brushed away an angry tear, and choked back a sob. "Let us talk of something else," she said. "You've been writing to Aunt Margaret, haven't you?"