How Reggie Saw the Sphinx by Nina Rhoades

It was three days later, and Reggie was sitting up in bed doing a picture puzzle. The attack of croup had been a sharp one, but the worst was now over, although it had been decreed that the patient should spend another day in bed before being allowed to go about the usual business of life once more. Reggie had argued the subject long and seriously with both his mother and Ellen, protesting that he had never felt less like staying in bed in his life, but all his arguments had proved unavailing, and had been finally quenched by his father's remarking rather grimly, that he considered an attack of croup and three days spent in bed, a very light punishment for nearly frightening his mother into nervous prostration. After that Reggie was silent. He was quite aware of the fact that he had been shockingly naughty, and at the bottom of his heart was really very much ashamed of his conduct, but at the same time it didn't seem quite fair that he should be having all the blame and all the punishment, while Phyllis -- who had really been just as much to blame as himself -- was treated as quite the heroine of the hour, and went about with such a radiant expression of countenance that he sometimes longed to slap her. There was no doubt in Reggie's mind that Colonel Willoughby spoiled his little daughter much more than was good for her.

The picture puzzle was difficult, and not very interesting, and Reggie pushed away the pieces impatiently, and lay down on his back, with a grunt of disgust. Ellen looked up from her sewing.