"Well, if Rosemary would take a little interest in the child and coax her, she would soon learn to like vegetables," said Aunt Trudy. "I think Shirley is left too much to herself."
Rosemary flushed, but her brother spoke before she could reply.
"You eat your rice, Shirley, or not one other thing can you have to-night," he announced, with unusual severity, for Shirley was his pet. "No, crying won't do you any good—eat your rice and stop whining."
"I think you ought to know how things go when I'm not here, Hugh," began Aunt Trudy while Shirley ate her rice sulkily. "I was so upset this morning that I thought I should fly if I stayed in the house, so I went up to the city and shopped. I came in about half past five and not one bed was made! The children's clothes lay just where they had flung them last night. That's a nice way, isn't it? Apparently I can not leave home for a few hours without finding everything shirked on my return."
Rosemary's blue eyes blazed with quick anger and an unlovely look came into her face.
"I don't care if I didn't make the beds!" she cried hotly. "I'm sick and tired of beds and dusting and answering the telephone. You never expect anyone in this house to do a single thing, but me!"
"Rosemary!" said Doctor Hugh.
"I don't think you should speak to me like that," asserted Aunt Trudy on the verge of tears.
"I won't speak to you at all!" jerked Rosemary. "That's the only way to please you."
Aunt Trudy began to cry and Doctor Hugh pushed back his plate.