is. Everybody came
running to see what the matter was, and Joanna picked her up and
carried her into Aunt Zelie's room, where it was found that a large
lump on her head and a bruise on her arm were the worst of her
injuries. Bess told how it happened.

"I can't think what ails Carl lately," said Louise.

"He is a mean, hateful boy," sobbed Helen; "I don't care if I _did_
spoil his composition."

Feeling that it would be of no use to talk to her then, Aunt Zelie
left her to the tender ministrations of her sisters and Joanna, and
went to seek the chief offender.

He was still in the girls' room, standing his ground defiantly.

The moment's fright lest he had hurt Helen badly had passed, and the
sight of his composition stirred his anger afresh.

"Is it true that you threw your sister down?" His aunt stood before
him with a look in her dark eyes which it was not pleasant to meet.

Carl glanced down, but answered, "Yes, and here is what _she_ did!"
holding up the blotted paper.

"Does that excuse your unmanliness, your--you might have killed her,
you know. I can't talk to you now, Carl; you'd better go to your room.
I can't tell you how disappointed I am."

He never thought of not following her suggestion; indeed, he was glad
to get away from those indignant eyes.

"Of course," he muttered to himself, "I am all to blame and nothing is
said to Helen about spoiling my work. Boys are always found fault
with, but girls can do anything."

Down in his heart he knew this was not true, but he chose to think it.
He flung himself into a chair by the window. It was a gloomy, thawing
day; the snow, as if aghast at the trouble it had caused, was melting
sadly away. There was nothing in the prospect to make him feel
cheerful. After awhile he went to work on his composition again, and
as he wrote he felt more and more like a martyr. When it was finished
he folded it and put it away, and began to think it must be near
lunch-time. With the door closed, there in the third story he could
not hear the bell; however, he would not go down; if they wanted him
they might send for him. By two o'clock he was feeling deeply injured.
Nobody cared whether he starved or not. Then he remembered that Uncle
William was to take them to see Hermann that afternoon. By this time
they must have gone without him. Carl threw himself on the bed and
shed some tears of vexation and disappointment. All the while
something was whispering to him that he d