by Sophie May
CHAPTER X.
THE BROKEN BOX.
Before we congratulate ourselves on Aunt Mary's return home, let us justtake a look at the disappointed Mabel, after her sister Julia had goneto the tea-party.
It was in vain that her too indulgent mother tried to soften heraffliction, very injudiciously, we think, as every remark of hers onlyelicited a fresh burst of feeling; and Mrs. Ellis felt it quite a reliefwhen the self-tormenting girl rose up hastily and retreated to herbedroom, there to ponder over, not her own delinquencies, we fear, butthe wrongs inflicted on her by others.
A little voice which said, 'May I come in, Mabel?' roused her for amoment, and she answered very crossly: 'What is it you want, Fred? Iwish you would not come teasing me. Go away; I don't want any of you.
'I only want to show you the nice box of puzzles papa has brought homefor me,' replied Freddy. 'I want you, Mabel dear, to help me to put ittogether. I won't tease you.'
'I don't want to see your box, and I shan't open the door,' said theungracious girl. 'Take your box away, and get some one else to help youto put your puzzle together,' she added; and poor Fred, thus rudelyrepressed, turned to wend his way downstairs again. Unfortunately, hisfoot caught the fringe of the door-mat, which caused him to fall heavilyand strike his head against the railing of the banisters, while thepretty box, escaping from his hand, went right down the stairs into thehall, where it burst open, and scattered the inclosed pieces right andleft.
Mabel was now quite roused, and fearing that her papa, attracted by thenoise, might come up to see what was the matter, rather than being movedby any sisterly feeling, she reluctantly opened the door, and lifted upthe prostrate Freddy, who, although he had received a rather severe blowon the forehead from coming in contact with the railings, was too muchof a man to cry, and seemed more anxious about the fate of his newplaything, than desirous of obtaining either aid or sympathy; nor was hevery likely to obtain either from Mabel, though she took him into herroom to scold him for what he had done.
'Now just see what you have done,' said the selfish girl, 'by bringingup that nasty box, and then letting it fall down the stairs. I hearpapa's voice in the hall; he will most likely come up here, and I shallget scolded for your stupidity.'
'I will go down to him,' said Freddy, 'and then I can tell him all aboutthe box falling; papa needn't come up here.'
'How came you to let your box fall, Fred?' inquired Mr. Ellis, helpingthe boy to pick up the scattered pieces.
'I caught my foot in the fringe of the bedroom mat, papa,' repliedFreddy; 'I am so sorry the box is broken.'
'Yes, so am I,' said his father; 'but why did you take it upstairs? thatis what I should like to know.'
As there was no answer returned to this question, Mr. Ellis stated thetruth himself.
'I suppose,' he continued, 'you went to show it to your sisterMabel--was that it?'
'Yes, papa,' said the boy, still holding down his head; and kind papa,seeing there was something wrong, would not then press further questionson his little boy, though he remarked to his wife, when they were againseated, that he should indeed be very glad when Mabel was under the careof someone who knew how to manage her, for he was quite disgusted withher exhibitions of temper.
'My sister will I dare say be here to-morrow,' said Mrs. Ellis; 'and Iwill tell her what you wish respecting Mabel, though I know she does notlike the poor girl: and Mabel will find Oak Villa very different tohome, I am afraid.'
'That is not what I am afraid of,' replied Mr. Ellis; 'my fear is, thatMiss Livesay will find the girl so intolerable, that we shall soon haveher back on our hands again.'
'Oh, Arthur! you are so very severe in your remarks,' said the tooindulgent mother. 'My sister is very patient, and very kind to children,though she is so firm.'
'Which I am sorry to say you are not, my dear; and it is this want offirmness which occasions all the mischief,' said the gentleman; adding,rather bitterly, 'You order a thing to be done, but you take no care tosee your orders enforced, and thus we are plagued with unruly childrenand wilful servants.'
'Well, dear, you are always finding fault with me, whatever I do,' saidthe poor self-afflicted lady, though she must have felt that what hergood husband had said was quite true; and well would it have been forhim, for herself, and indeed for the whole household, if, instead ofconsidering herself a martyr, she had set to work to amend the errorswhich he had pointed out; but, alas! we don't see ourselves as otherssee us.