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“O Billy, the poor rabbit will surely be caught; and you know the stag hid in ‘Trosach’s wildest nook.’” “We came—we came to bring these,” one ventured timidly, and lifted one end of the basket they carried between them. “You romp!” came the disgusted voice once more. “You’d better cut your hair, and your skirts, and be a child again.”.

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Thoroughly enjoying her task, Betty flitted from flower to flower until she had gathered an armful of the lovely blossoms. Then visiting the vegetable beds she appropriated a few feathery sprays of asparagus. Returning to the house, she made up her bouquets. One, a great mass of yellow, lightly flecked with green, she set on a small table which stood in the darkest corner of the dining-room, then stood back to view the effect. “I’m so sorry our afternoon has been spoiled,” she apologized. “While we wait we might as well have a cup of tea. Maria, rinse the silver teapot with boiling water.” Billy heard the pitiful cries of the children, Evelyn’s the loudest, though Vilette was receiving the blows. Every drop of blood in his veins was a spark of fire. An unsuspected power came from somewhere, mysteriously. He felt himself lift, expand, grow strong enough to battle with an ox. He dropped his wheel, sprang upon Jimmy from behind, and bore him down. In an instant he had snatched the whip, broken it, and tossed the pieces into the field beyond. “You bully! You skunk! To horsewhip girls! Why don’t you take one of your own size?” “Billy! You said you weren’t hurt, but you are!” Alarmed, she rose and switched on the light, pulled off the bandage, and turned faint at the wreck of the bright, clean boy who had left her that afternoon. “My boy! You’re dreadfully hurt! I must send for Doctor Carter, and—”.