Rosie was sent to her room without dinner while Mama invited Mr. Smith for tea. Rosie didn’t mind, so much, as she was tired, but every time she lay down she felt the water under her again, dragging at her. She gave up in disgust just as the sky was going gray-blue.
Papa came home not much later, when Rosie’s stomach was starting to growl. Rosie could tell when Mama had explained it to Papa because there was a terrific row. Mama yelled that it was Papa’s stories that had made Rosie do such a foolish thing and Papa replied that Rosie was entitled to make her own foolish mistakes and then Mama started in on Papa for being too soft on Rosie. Rosie finally put her covers over her head and hummed loudly; she hated to hear Mama and Papa fighting. It always made her feel so guilty. Without her, she sometimes thought, Papa and Mama would always be happy together.
Later, when Rosie had taken to staring out the window, Papa brought up a bit of food, saying, “Adventures, even bad ones, whet one’s appetite.”