Jane’s face grew red and her eyes filled with tears.
“You have always been glad enough to play with dolls and to talk about fairies when you hadn’t got any horrid boys around,” she said slowly.
Then her injured feelings overcame her and she ran to her grandmother and buried her face on her shoulder.
“Oh, grandmother,” she sobbed, “Kit doesn’t love me any more. He talks to me like other boys talk to girls. I always thought Kit and I would be just alike forever and ever, but we ain’t—aren’t, I mean—and it’s all Billy Carpenter’s fault!”
Grandmother whispered comforting words in the little girl’s ear, and stroked her hair until Jane’s storm of tears was over. Christopher stood by in awkward silence. He felt sorry and a little taken aback, for he had not really meant to hurt his sister’s feelings.
“I didn’t mean to be a beast, Jane,” he said. “I’m sorry I said that about your dolls. Stop crying, do, there’s a good fellow. I’m sorry, honest Injun. I’ll—I’ll stay home!” he gulped heroically, “and play I’m Oberon or Puck all the afternoon; or I’ll doctor Sally through the scarlet fever. Stop crying, I say.”
Jane lifted a tear-stained face.
“I don’t want you to stay home,” she said cruelly. “I am glad you’ve got something to do, ’cause I was only staying home to keep you company. I’ve got another engagement for this afternoon,” and lifting her little square chin loftily, she walked out of the room.
So occurred the first real break between the twins. Jane’s tender little heart reproached her the minute she had closed the door.
“I was rude to him when he was trying to make up,” she thought miserably. “I wish I hadn’t. And he’s going to be gone all the whole afternoon! I hope it won’t spoil his picnic with grandfather.”