“Marse John, your father says it is time for you to come home. Here is your cloak mistis sent.”
The reversion of feeling was too strong for utterance, and with a choked voice and swimming eyes I rose, and, without a word of parting to Lulie, went out with William. Just as I reached the outer door I met Frank coming in. He bowed with mock reverence, and said, with a sneer:
“Good night, little baby; go to your cradle.”
“I’ll whip you to-morrow!” was all I could grind out between my clenched teeth, while he ran, laughing, into the hall. As I groped my way down the steps, my eyes all blinded with tears, I heard some one say:
“Here come the band! they are going to play for the children.”
This was the last feather on the camel’s back of my fortitude, and I broke down into sobbing.
To have Lulie think I was babyish, and had to be sent for; to have our conversation broken off so suddenly, when it was becoming so pleasant; to leave a scene of gaiety before it was finished, and then, too, when the best part was coming, and, above all, to have my hated rival triumph in my humiliation, was enough to have crushed a stouter heart than mine.
When we reached the corner, round which we turned into our street, William stopped, and said:
I wiped away the tears from my eyes, and looked back at the building. ‘Twas brightly illuminated, and indistinct forms could be seen passing to and fro at the windows. A quick, lively air from the band came floating to my ears, and I knew Frank was by Lulie’s side.
“Oh, William,” I sobbed, “I—do—want—to—go back—so bad.”
“I think it was a pity marster sent for you so soon,” he said, “but you are done and away now, and we’d better go on home.”
Wretched, indeed, I ascended the steps at home, and was met at the door by father.
“Well, Johnnie,” he said, locking the door after I had gotten in, “this is right late for a little boy to be up, isn’t it? What! crying! What is the matter?”
“Father—, I did—hate to—leave—so much—. The—band was coming—to play—for us—and I was just—beginning to—see some—fun.”
“I am sorry I broke you up,” he said, kindly, “but it is very late, and much for the best that you should be at home. Good night; run up to bed.”
I went up to my room, and tumbled on the bed with my clothes on. My mind was full of bitter, burning thoughts. I fancied I could still hear the band, and whenever I closed my eyes Lulie’s form, with Frank hovering near, rose to my vision.