"Another Rhoda!" I exclaimed, with a gasp, frowning at him.
"Wouldn't you like a little sister to play with?" he inquired, tenderly. "To sleep with you in your crib? And sit by you at the table?"
"No, father."
"Oh, yes, yes, you would, Rhoda!"
"No, no, no!" I screamed, breaking into angry tears.
He tried to comfort me in a blundering, laughing manner, but in the midst of all my sorrow grandmother's voice called to him from above.
"Robert!"
When the room cleared before my eyes I saw that I was alone.
At that same moment I had decided on my course of action. Very quickly, very quietly, I collected my plate and mug, my woolly dog and pleasant faced doll, and the yellow basket with the red handle, and stowed them all away in a dark corner under the sofa, where they were hidden from sight. My blue hood which hung in the hall, and was something quite new and precious, I put on my head, where it would be safest. Then half terrified, half defiant, I took up my position at the window to watch for the arrival of that other self which would dispute my realm. Every second I dreaded to hear the flutter of wings as the bird passed over the house, and to see another Rhoda standing expectant in the garden, to see my father, perhaps, hurrying to meet her with outstretched arms. It was a terrible hour.
In my need, however, I found a new friend, Norah from out the kitchen. I had known her before, as a person owning unlimited cake, and apt to display a strong liking for myself, but then she had been only an outsider, while now she was almost nearer to me than my mother. I threw myself straight into her willing arms, and told my story.