Rosy | Page 2

ROSY AND MANCHON]
No, Manchon would not do to quarrel with. She stood beside his
cushion looking at him, but she did not venture to pull his tail or pinch
his ears, as she would rather have liked to do. And Manchon looked up
at her sleepily, blinking his eyes as much as to say, "What a silly little
girl you are," in a way that made Rosy more angry still.
"I don't like you, you ugly old cat," she said, "and you know I don't.
And I shan't like her. You needn't make faces at me," as Manchon,
disturbed in his afternoon nap, blinked again and gave a sort of
discontented mew. "I don't care for your faces, and I don't care what
mamma says, and I don't care for all the peoples in the world, I _won't_
like her;" and then, without considering that there was no one near to
see or to hear except Manchon, Rosy stamped her little feet hard, and
repeated in a louder voice, "No, I won't, I _won't_ like her."
But some one had heard her after all. A little figure, smaller than Rosy

even, was standing in the doorway, looking at her with a troubled face,
but not seeming very surprised.
"Losy," it said, "tea's seady. Fix is comed for you."
"Then Fix may go away again. Rosy doesn't want any tea. Rosy's too
bovvered and vexed. Go away, Fix."
But "Fix," as she called him, and as he called himself, didn't move.
Only the trouble in his delicate little face grew greater.
"Is you bovvered, Losy?" he said. "Fix is welly solly," and he came
farther into the room. "Losy," he said again, still more gently than
before, "do come to tea. Fix doesn't like having his tea when Losy isn't
there, and Fix is tired to-day."
Rosy looked at him a moment. Then a sudden change came over her.
She stooped down and threw her arms round the little boy's neck and
hugged him.
"Poor Fixie, dear Fixie," she said. "Rosy will come if you want her.
Fixie never bovvers Rosy. Fixie loves Rosy, doesn't he?"
"Ses," said the child, kissing her in return, "but please don't skeese Fix
kite so tight," and he wriggled a little to get out of her grasp. Instantly
the frown came back to Rosy's changeable face.
"You cross little thing," she said, half flinging her little brother away
from her, "you don't love Rosy. If you did, you wouldn't call her
cuddling you skeesing."
Fix's face puckered up, and he looked as if he were going to cry. But
just then steps were heard coming, and a boy's voice called out, "Fix,
Fix, what a time you are! If Rosy isn't there, never mind her. Come
along. There's something good for tea."
"There's Colin," said Fix, turning as if to run off to his brother. Again
Rosy's mood changed.
"Don't run away from Rosy, Fix," she said. "Rosy's not cross, she's only
troubled about somefing Fix is too little to understand. Take Rosy's
hand, dear, and we'll go up to tea togever. Never mind Colin--he's such
a big rough boy;" and when Colin, in his turn, appeared at the door,
Rosy and Fix were already coming towards it, hand-in-hand, Rosy the
picture of a model little elder sister.
Colin just glanced at them and ran off.
"Be quick," he said, "or I'll eat it all before you come. There's fluff for
tea--strawberry fluff! At least I've been smelling it all the afternoon,

and I saw a little pot going upstairs, and Martha said cook said it was
for the children!"
Colin, however, was doomed to be disappointed.
There was no appearance of anything "better" than bread and butter on
the nursery table, and in answer to the boy's questions, Martha said
there was nothing else.
"But the little pot, Martha, the little pot," insisted Colin. "I heard you
yourself say to cook, 'Then this is for the children?'"
"Well, yes, Master Colin, and so I did, and so it is for you. But I didn't
say it was for to-day--it's for to-morrow, Sunday."
"Whoever heard of such a thing," said Colin. "Fluff won't keep. It
should be eaten at once."
"But it's jam, Master Colin. It's regular jam in the little pot. I don't
know anything about the fluff, as you call it. I suppose they've eaten it
in the kitchen."
"Well, then, it's a shame," said Colin. "It's all the new cook. I've always
been accustomed, always, to have the fluff sent up to the nursery," and
he thumped impressively on the table.
"In all your places, Master Colin, it was always so, wasn't it?" said
Martha, with a twinkle of fun in her eyes.
"You're very impettnent, Martha," said Rosy, looking up suddenly, and