"Harty! Harty!" interrupted Rosa; "don't talk so. Make haste and get ready."
"Never mind me," said Harty; "you walk on, and I can catch up with you: it won't take me but a minute to change my coat—these trowsers will do."
"But, Harty, you will have to brush your hair and your shoes, and wash yourself. It would not be respectful to the place where you are going to enter in such a plight."
"Pshaw!" said Harty, angrily; "I will not go at all; you can find your way, with little Lucy to open the door for you."
Rosa was tempted to leave him, for she, too, disliked to be late at church, but not for either of the reasons that had been mentioned. She liked to be in her seat before the service commenced, that she might have time to collect her thoughts, and be ready to join with the congregation in the solemn worship of God.
"My brother ought not to stay at home," she thought: "it will be better to wait for him, even if we are late." "Come, Harty," said she, encouragingly, "we will help you, and you will soon be ready."
Lucy was dispatched to the kitchen for the shoes that had been cleaned, for Harty's cap, pocket-hankerchief, another clean collar, &c.; in short, she had so many things to run for, that she stopped on the landing, so weary that she was glad to take breath. There Mrs. Maxwell met her, and said, "Take off those things, Lucy Vale; you ought not to think of going to church after the wetting you got yesterday. Your father didn't say you might go; I noticed it this morning."
"But I am quite well," pleaded Lucy. "I think he would let me go, if he were at home."
"But he is not at home. At noon you can ask him. Go now and undress as fast as you can." Without another word Mrs. Maxwell passed down stairs.
Lucy dropped down upon the lowest stop, and began to cry bitterly.