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Page 2
"Read it with me," she said.
"Oh, read it aloud while we listen," said Leslie.
Rose had been a dear little playmate when she had lived with her Aunt
Judith in a little cottage, near Sherwood Hall. Now that she had gone to
live with her Great-Aunt Rose, for whom she had been named, and some
miles distant, her little friends remembered her, and wished that she
were with them.
Now, as Polly read the letter, it seemed as if little Rose Atherton were
talking to them.
"Dear Princess Polly:--" the letter began, and then followed loving
assurance of her true affection for her "own Polly," very tender
inquiries for Sir Mortimer, the beautiful cat, and tales of little
happenings in the new home.
"Great-Aunt Rose is kind, and Aunt Lois is gentle and sweet, but I'm
LONSUM.
"The rooms are large, and cool and dark, and sometimes when the garden
is hot and sunny, I go to the parlor, and try to amuse myself, but oh, I
wish I had someone to play with. When I try to pick out a tune on the
piano, the notes sound so loud, I turn around to see if Aunt Rose is
provokt, but she never folows me. There's a portrate of a funny old man
that hangs at the end of the parlor, and I always think he's watching
me. When I smile, he seems to smile, and when I'm lonsum, he doesn't
look jolly at all. There's five people in this house beside me. There's
my two aunts, and three servants, but no one makes any noise, and oh,
sometimes I WISH they would.
"Aunt Rose says sometime she'll give a party for me, but she says there
must be no romping, and that it must be dig-ni-fide. I don't believe I
spelled that right, and I'm not sure what it means, but it doesn't sound
nice. I don't believe the children that come to it, will like a party
that's digni--, I can't write that long word again.
"Aunt Lois is to have her portrate painted, and I'm to go with her to
the artist's studyo.
"Aunt Rose just came in, and said, 'That is a long letter. Shall I help
you with the spelling?' I didn't let her. I know some of the words are
funny, but I don't want her to see this letter.
"I haven't said anything norty in it, only about how quiet and lonsum it
is, but she mite not like that. I just had to tell you. Aunt Rose is
going to ask you to visit me, and I'll be so glad when you come.
Your loving little friend,
ROSE.
P.S.--Aunt Rose said this morning that I ort to sine my name, Rose
Jerusha Atherton, because that's her name, and I was named for her. How
can I? Isn't JERUSHA orful?"
Of course the three little friends sympathized with Rose.
They felt as if they had seen the quaint, beautiful old house, with its
dark, cool rooms.
They seemed to see bright, merry little Rose, now quiet, and lonely,
wandering through the great hall to the parlor, to find a companion in
the piano, or looking up into the friendly face of the old gentleman
whose portrait she had described.
"And she says she is to go with her aunt to the artist's studio," said
Leslie, "and wouldn't I like to do that? Just think what fun it would be
to see him painting."
"I wonder if he'll let Rose watch him?" said Polly.
"There'd be no fun in going if she couldn't see him paint," declared
Leslie "and if I were Rose, I WOULD watch him, if I had to peep when he
wasn't looking."
"Oh you WOULDN'T!" said Vivian.
"I WOULD," said Leslie firmly, and Vivian did not reply.
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