I don't believe I
could bear them in the house!" Rose cried out again. "I would put
that dress in the rag-bag if it was mine!" Her cheeks burned and her
eyes were quite fierce upon the dress as Charlotte slipped it off and
it fell to the floor in a rustling heap around her.
"I don't see any sense in losing everything you have ever had because
you haven't got anything now," Charlotte returned, in a stern voice.
She laid the shining silk gown carefully on the bed, and put on her
cotton one again. Her face was quite steady.
Rose watched her with the same sharp question in her eyes. "You know
you and Barney will make it up," she said, at length.
"No, I don't," returned Charlotte. "Suppose we go down-stairs now.
I've got some work I ought to do."
Charlotte pulled down the green paper shades of the windows, and went
out of the room. Rose followed. Charlotte turned to go down-stairs,
but Rose caught her arm.
"Wait a minute," said she. "Look here, Charlotte."
"What is it?"
"Charlotte," said Rose again; then she stopped.
Charlotte turned and looked at her. Rose's eyes met hers, and her
face had a noble expression.
"You write a note to him, and I'll carry it," said Rose. "I'll go
down in the field where he is, on my way home."
Tears sprang into Charlotte's eyes. "You're real good, Rose," she
said; "but I can't.
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