We return to Rose, who found herself very unwillingly once more in the custody of her stepfather.

"Go out and play in the back yard with Fanny," said Mrs. Waters. "You'll have a nice time together, and be good friends in less than no time."

Rose followed Fanny slowly into the back yard; but she had very little hope of a good time. She was too full of sorrowful thoughts for that. As she looked back, a moment after going into the yard, she saw Mr. Martin shaking his fist at her from the back window, and this she understood very well was a sign of the treatment which she had to expect.

The back yard was not a very pleasant place. It was very small to begin with, and the little space was littered with broken bottles and rubbish of various kinds. In one corner was a cistern nearly full of water, which had been standing long enough to become turbid.

"What shall we do?" asked Fanny.

"I don't know," said Rose, without much interest.

"I'll tell you," said Fanny, "we'll take a piece of wood, and sail it in the cistern. We can make believe it's a ship."

"You can do it," said Rose.

"Won't you play too?"

"I don't feel much like playing."

"Why don't you?" asked Fanny, curiously.

"I wish I was back in New York."

"Who were you with?"

"With Rufie."

"Who's he?"

"My brother."

"Is he a nice boy?"

"Yes, he's the nicest boy that ever lived," said Rose, positively.

"Your father says he's a bad boy."

"He isn't my father."

"Isn't your father?"

"No, he's only my stepfather."

Rose was about to say something against Mr. Martin; but it occurred to her that if it came to the ears of the latter, she might fare the worse for it, and accordingly she stopped short.

Fanny picked up a stick, and began to sail it about in the cistern. After a while Rose went up, and looked on rather listlessly. At length Fanny got tired of this amusement, and began to look around for something better to do. In the corner of the yard she spied the cat, who was lying down in a lazy attitude, purring contentedly as she dozed.

"I know what I'll do," she said; "I'll have some fun with puss."

She lifted the sleepy cat, and conveyed her straightway to the cistern. This attracted the attention of Rose, who exclaimed, "What are you going to do?"

"I am going to see puss swim," said the mischievous girl.

Now Rose had a tender heart, and could not bear to see an animal abused. It always aroused all the chivalry in her nature, and her indignation in the present case overcame not only her timidity, but the depression she had felt at the separation from her friends.

"You shan't do it," she said, energetically.

"Mind your business!" said Fanny, defiantly. "It's my cat, and I'm going to put her into the water."

True to her declaration, she dropped the cat into the cistern.

Rose waited for no more, but ran to the cistern, and, pushing Fanny forcibly away, seized the cat by her neck, and pulled her out. Puss, on being rescued, immediately took to her heels, and soon was out of harm's way.

"What did you do that for?" exclaimed Fanny, flaming with rage.

"You had no right to put the cat in the water," retorted Rose, intrepidly.

"I'll put you in the water," said Fanny. "I wish you were drowned."

"You're a bad girl," said Rose.

"I won't play with you."

"I don't want you to. I don't care about playing with a girl that behaves so."

"I behave as well as you do, anyway."

"I don't want to talk to you any more."

This seemed to exasperate Fanny, who, overcome by her feelings, flew at Rose, and scratched her in the face. Rose was very peaceably inclined, but she did not care about submitting to such treatment. She therefore seized Fanny by the hands and held them. Unable to get away, Fanny screamed at the top of her voice. This brought her mother to the door.

"What's going on here?" she asked, in a voice of authority.

"She's fighting me," said Fanny. "Take her away."

"Let go my child at once, you wicked girl!" said Mrs. Waters, whose sympathies were at once enlisted on the side of her child.

"Then she mustn't scratch me," said Rose.

"What did you scratch her for, Fanny?"

"She's been plaguing me."

"How did she plague you?"

"I was playing with puss, and she came and took the cat away, and pushed me."

"You are a bad, quarrelsome girl," said Mrs. Waters, addressing Rose, "and I'm sorry I told your father you might come here. He told me you were bad; but I didn't think you would show out so quick. If you were my girl, I'd give you a good whipping. As it is, I shall inform your father of your conduct, as soon as he gets home, and I have no doubt he will punish you."

"I only tried to prevent Fanny from drowning the cat," said Rose. "She threw her into the water, and I took her out."

"That's a likely story. I don't believe it. Is it true, Fanny?"

"No, it isn't," said Fanny, whose regard for truth was not very strong.

"So I supposed. You have not only ill-treated my girl, but you have told a wrong story besides. Fanny, come in, and I will give you a piece of cake."

"You won't give her any, will you, ma?"

"No, she don't deserve any."

With a look of triumph Fanny went into the house, leaving poor Rose to meditate in sorrow upon this new phase of injustice and unhappiness. It seemed as if everybody was conspiring to injure and ill-treat her.

"I wish Rufie were here," she said, "so that he might take me away."

Then came to her mind the threat of her stepfather, and she shuddered at the idea of Rufus being killed. From what she knew of Mr. Martin, she didn't think it very improbable that he would carry out his threat.

After a while she was called to dinner, but she had very little appetite.

"So you're sullen, are you, miss?" said Mrs. Waters. "You're a bad girl, and if I were your father, I'd give you a lesson. So you won't eat!"

"I am not hungry," said Rose.

"I understand very well what that means. However, if you don't want to eat, I won't make you. You'll be hungry enough by and by, I guess."

The afternoon passed very dismally to poor Rose. Fanny was forbidden by her mother to play with her, though this Rose didn't feel at all as a privation. She was glad to be free from the company of the little girl whom she had begun to dislike, and spent her time in brooding over her sorrowful fate. She sat by the window, and looked at the people passing by, but she took little interest in the sight, and was in that unhappy state when the future seems to contain nothing pleasant.

At length Mr. Martin came home. His nose was as radiant as ever, and there was little doubt that he had celebrated his capture in the manner most agreeable to him.

"So you're here, are you?" he said. "I thought you wouldn't run away after what I told you. It'll be a bad day for you and your rascal of a brother if you do. What have you been doing?"

"Sitting by the window."

"Where's the other little girl? Why don't you go and play with her, instead of moping here?"

"I don't like her," said Rose.

"'Pears to me you're mighty particular about your company," said Martin. "Maybe she don't like you any better."

To this Rose didn't reply; but Mrs. Waters, who just then chanced to enter the room, did.

"Your little girl abused my Fanny," she said; "and I had to forbid them playing together. I found them fighting together out in the back yard."

"It wasn't my fault," said Rose.

"Don't tell me that," said Martin. "I know you of old, miss. You're a troublesome lot, you and your brother; but now I've got you back again, I mean to tame you; see if I don't."

"I hope you will," said Mrs. Waters; "my Fanny is a very sweet-dispositioned child, just like what I was at her age; and she never gets into no trouble with nobody, unless they begin to pick on her, and then she can't be expected to stand still, and be abused."

"Of course not," said Martin.

"Your little girl attacked her, and tried to stop her playing with the cat."

"What did you do that for, miss?" said Mr. Martin, menacingly.

"She threw the cat into the cistern," said Rose; "and I was afraid she would drown."

"What business was it of yours? It wasn't your cat, was it?"

"No."

"It was my daughter's cat," said Mrs. Waters; "but she tells me she didn't throw her into the cistern. It's my belief that your little girl did it herself."

"Just as likely as not," said Martin, with a hiccough. "Hark you, miss," he continued, steadying himself by the table on which he rested his hand, for his head was not altogether steady, "I've got something to say to you, and you'd better mind what I say? Do you hear?"

Rose didn't answer.

"Do you hear, I say?" he demanded, in a louder tone, frowning at the child.

"Yes."

"You'd better, then, just attend to your own business, for you'll find it best for yourself. You've begun to cut up your shines pretty early. But you don't do it while I'm here. What are you snivelling about?"—for Rose, unable to repress her sorrow, began to sob. "What are you snivelling about, I say?"

"I want to go back, and live with Rufie and Miss Manning," said Rose. "Oh, do let me go!"

"That's a pretty cool request," said Martin. "After I've been so long hunting you up, you expect me to let you go as soon as I've got you. I don't mean to let you go back to Rufie," he said, mimicking the little girl's tone,—"not if I know it. Besides," he added, with a sudden thought, "I couldn't do it very well if I wanted to. Do you know where your precious brother is?"

"Where?" asked Rose, in alarm.

"Over to Blackwell's Island. He was took up this morning for stealing."

"I don't believe it," said Rose, indignantly. "I know he wouldn't steal."

"Oh, well, have it your own way, then. Perhaps you know better than I do. Only I'm glad I'm not where he is."

Of course this story was all a fabrication, invented to tease poor Rose. Though the little girl didn't believe it, she feared that Rufus might have got into some trouble,—some innocent persons are sometimes unjustly suspected,—and the bare possibility of such a thing was sufficient to make her feel unhappy. Poor child! But yesterday she had been full of innocent joy and happiness, and now everything seemed dark and sorrowful. When should she see Rufie again? That was the anxious thought that kept her awake half the night.