Yes, Rose's picture should have been taken at that moment, with her unbound tresses, and her little hands crossed in her lap in such dreary hopelessness. But when was she not a picture? and what has beauty ever brought its possessor, but a broken heart?
"You will see the end of this," said Patty, to the cook, laying her forefinger mysteriously on the bridge of her nose. "You will see what's what, when Mrs. Howe comes home; those folks will be tramped back into the attic in double quick time."
"What will you bet on that?" said Nancy; "men get tired after awhile of being led by the nose. I will bet you that pair of gold ear-rings you have been hankering after, that they will stay where they are."
"Done!" exclaimed Patty, "and I will bet you my new silk apron, with the satin pockets, that they go back in the attic in less than twenty-four hours from now. Hark! there comes Mrs. Howe home this minute; now we shall see;" and Patty set the kitchen door wide open, that no sound might escape her.
John was pacing up and down the library, whither he had retired, after moving Rose into the best spare chamber. He was naturally a good-hearted fellow, but his constitutional indolence had made him a willing slave of his crafty, designing wife. John hated nothing so much as trouble. Inch after inch of ground he had yielded to the enemy, rather than contend for its possession. Now that the excitement of his late involuntary declaration of independence was over, he began to reflect upon the probable consequences, to listen nervously for the door-bell; in fact, he felt very much more like running away than "facing the music."
He had done penance before now, by drinking muddy coffee, eating half-boiled potatoes, raw meat, and smoky puddings. He had groaned under three weeks of sulks, with which Mrs. Howe had been afflicted, on account of what she considered his conjugal misdemeanors. He had missed his business memorandum-book for days together; been obliged to go out the back door, instead of the front; had stood on one leg three quarters of an hour at a friend's house, whither he had escorted Mrs. Howe to a party, waiting for that lady to rejoin him to enter the drawing-room; she, meanwhile, reclining composedly in an arm-chair in the ladies' dressing-room, leisurely enjoying the penance she was inflicting. He had been called out of the party at an early hour, to wait upon her ladyship home, merely because he seemed to be enjoying it; he had slept with the window open when it was cold, and slept with it shut when it was hot. No wonder John felt a little nervous.
"There it is—there it is," said Patty, rubbing her hands, "there's the bell for me," and up she ran, confident of winning the coveted gold ear-rings.
"Patty?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Mrs. Howe's face was pale with rage as, beckoning Patty to follow her, she pointed through the open door of the best chamber at Rose and the baby, to whom she had not deigned to speak.