He was just going to call out that Rose was not here, when he luckily
recollected that he was Rose, pulled his hood forward, and opened the
door.
He was instantly surrounded by the three children, who, poor little
things, feeling extremely forlorn and desolate without their mother,
all gathered round him, Lucy and Eleanor seizing each a hand, and
Charles clinging to the skirts of his dress. He by no means
understood this; and Rose was so used to it, as to have forgotten he
would not like it. "How you crowd?" he exclaimed.
"Mistress Rose," began Deborah, coming half way up stairs--Lucy let
go his hand, but Charles instantly grasped it, and he felt as if he
could not move. "Don't be troublesome, children," said he, trying to
shake them off; "can't you come near one without pulling off one's
hands?"
"Mistress!" continued Deborah; but as he forgot he was addressed, and
did not immediately attend, she exclaimed, "Oh, she won't even look
at me! I thought she had forgiven me."
"Forgiven you!" said he, starting. "Stuff and nonsense; what's all
this about? You were a fool, that's all."
Deborah stared at this most unwonted address on the part of her young
lady; and Lucy, a sudden light breaking on her, smiled at Eleanor,
and held up her finger. Deborah proceeded with her inquiry:
"Mistress Rose, shall I take some breakfast to my lady, and the young
gentlemen, poor souls?"
"Yes, of course," he answered.
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