CHAPTER XXI
Getting Even
LUNCHEON at Jean's that day proved a lively affair, for both boys werehome; Henrietta chatted as frankly and as merrily as if she had knownthem all her life. Wallace, who was shy, squirmed uneasily at first andkept his eyes on his plate; but Roger, who had encountered the visitorin his French class, was able to respond to her friendly chatter.
"I like boys," asserted Henrietta, frankly, "but I haven't anybelonging to me but one and he's a horrid muff--sixteen and a regularbaby. He's my cousin."
"I thought you liked babies," laughed Jean.
"I do, but not that kind. He's been molly-coddled until it makes yousick to look at him."
"Trot him out," offered Roger. "I'll give him an antidote."
"He's in England," said Henrietta, "and I hope he'll stay there. Hehasn't any idea of doing anything for himself; he's always talkingabout what he'll do when somebody else does such and such a thing forhim."
"You mean," said Roger, "he hasn't any American independence."
"That's it," agreed Henrietta. "He'd have made a nice pink-and-whitegirl, but he's no use at all as a boy."
"How dark it's getting," said Jean. "I can hardly see my plate."
"I think," prophesied Wallace, breaking his long silence, "that it'sgoing to snow. The sky's been a little thick for three days; when itcomes we'll get a lot."
"Goody!" cried Henrietta, "I've never seen a real Lake Superiorsnowstorm and I want to. So far all the snow we've had has come in thenight. I want to _see_ it snow."
"You wouldn't," growled Wallace, "if you had to shovel several tons ofit off your sidewalk."
"Will it snow very soon?" queried Henrietta, eagerly.
"Probably not before dark," returned Wallace, turning to glance at thedull sky. "It's only getting ready."
Enthusiastic Henrietta, that odd mixture of extreme youth and prematureage, was all impatience to see Rosa Marie. She had telephoned hergrandmother to ask permission to spend the day with her new friends,and now she was eager to add Rosa Marie to the list. It was easy to seethat she was expecting to behold something very choice in the line ofbabies. Jean was tempted to undeceive her, but loyalty to Marjory kepther silent.
"A baby," breathed Henrietta, rapturously, "is the loveliest thingin all the world. _Isn't_ it most two o'clock? Wait, I'll look at mywatch--Mercy! I forgot to wind it!"
"Hark!" said Jean, "I think I hear the girls. Yes, I do."
"Get on your things," commanded Marjory, opening the door. "Bettiestopped to feed the cat, sew a button on Dick, wash Peter's face, tieup her father's finger and hook her mother's dress, but she's here atlast and we're to pick up Mabel on the way because Dr. Bennett calledher back to wash her face."
"We mustn't stay too long," warned Jean, glancing at the dull sky. "Itlooks as if it would get dark early."
Mrs. Crane was glad to see her visitors and appeared delighted to add anew girl to her collection of youthful friends.
"You and Jean are just of a size," said she.
"And about the same age," added Bettie, who had always regretted thetwo years' difference in her age and Jean's. "I wish _I_ were as old asthat."
"Aren't you afraid," blundered well-meaning Mrs. Crane, turning toBettie, "that she'll cut you out? You and Jean have always been asthick as thieves. Don't you let this pretty Henrietta steal your Jeanaway from you."
Bettie, dear little unselfish soul, had hitherto been conscious ofno such fear, but now her big brown eyes were troubled. This newpossibility was alarming.
"We'd like to see Rosa Marie," said Marjory. "Is she well?"
"She has a bad cold," returned Mrs. Crane, shaking her head,sorrowfully. "I've just been looking through my books, and in the veryfirst one I found more than twenty-five fatal diseases that begin witha bad cold."
"Didn't you find _any_ that folks ever get over?" suggested Jean,comfortingly.
"Why, yes," replied Mrs. Crane, brightening. "I've known of folkspulling through at least twenty-four of them. But there's one thing.You won't like Rosa Marie's clothes to-day. They're--they're sort ofan accident."
"An accident?" questioned Bettie. "What happened?"
"Why, you see, I ordered her a ready-made dress out of a catalogue. Itsounded very promising but--Well, it's _warm_, but I guess that's aboutall you can say for it. I'll take you to the nursery; I have to keepher out of drafts."
Rosa Marie, well and becomingly clad, would hardly have captured aprize in a beauty show, even with very little competition. Poor littleRosa Marie, suffering with a severe cold, appeared a most unlovableobject. Her eyes were dull and all but invisible, her nose and lipswere red and swollen and her wide mouth seemed even larger than usual.The catalogue dress was more than an accident; it was an out and outcalamity. Its gorgeous red and green plaid was marked off like a citymap in regular squares with a startling stripe of yellow. Moreover,the alarming garment was a distressingly tight fit.
"It looked," sighed Mrs. Crane, apologetically, "as pretty as youplease in that book; but of course nobody would _think_ of buying suchgoods as that _outside_ a catalogue. But Rosa Marie liked it."
After the first glance, however, the Cottagers did not look at RosaMarie or the hideous plaid. They gazed instead at Henrietta's speakingcountenance. Having led their new friend to expect something entirelydifferent in the way of infantile charms, they wanted to enjoy hersurprise; but strangely enough they did not. It was evident thatsomething was wrong with their plan.
The bright, expectant look faded suddenly from the sparkling blackeyes. All the animation fled swiftly from the girlish countenance. Twolarge tears rolled down Henrietta's cheeks.
"Oh," she mourned, "I was _so_ lonely for a real, dear little baby."
"Dear me," sighed penitent Jean, "we thought you'd enjoy the joke. Wesaw at once that you supposed that Rosa Marie was an ordinary child--anice little pink and white creature in long clothes. It seemed such agood chance to get even that we----"
"It was my fault," apologized Marjory. "I _tried_ to fool you. I neverthought you'd _care_."
"I'm sorry," said offended Mabel, stiffly, "that you don't like RosaMarie. She's much more interesting than a common baby, and I think,when I picked her out----"
"It isn't that," said Henrietta, smiling through her tears. "You see,I had a baby cousin in England that I just hated to leave--Oh, thesweetest, daintiest little-girl baby--and she'll be all grown up andgone before I ever see her again. I simply adored that baby."
"Never mind," soothed Bettie, generously. "We've any number of realbabies at our house and three of them are small enough to cuddle. Andeven the littlest one is big enough to be played with."
"What an accommodating family," said Henrietta, wiping her eyes. "Iguess they'll make up for this remarkable infant."
"Rosa Marie certainly isn't looking her best to-day," admitted Jean,"but you'll really find her very interesting when you know her better.But she never does appeal to strangers--we've found _that_ out."
"And just now," said Bettie, "she's surely a sight; but when you'veseen her in the cunning little Indian costume that Mr. Black bought forher you'll really like her."
"Perhaps," said Henrietta, doubtfully.