s had led him
away; Ethel suggesting that his gloom must arise from his not being
well; and Margaret looking wistfully at Norman, and saying she feared
they had judged much amiss last spring. Norman heard in silence, and
walked thoughtfully into the garden. Presently he caught Mary's voice in
expostulation: "How could you not come to read?"

"Girls' work!" growled another voice, out of sight.

"But Norman, and Richard, and Harry, always come to the reading.
Everybody ought."

Norman, who was going round the shrubs that concealed the speakers from
him, here lost their voices, but, as he emerged in front of the old
tool-house, he heard a little scream from Mary, and, at the same moment,
she darted back, and fell over a heap of cabbage-stumps in front of the
old tool-house. It was no small surprise to her to be raised by him, and
tenderly asked whether she were hurt. She was not hurt, but she could
not speak without crying, and when Norman begged to hear what was the
matter, and where Tom was, she would only plead for him--that he did not
intend to hurt her, and that she had been teasing him. What had he done
to frighten her? Oh! he had only run at her with a hoe, because she was
troublesome; she did not mind it, and Norman must not--and she clung
to him as if to keep him back, while he pursued his researches in the
tool-house, where, nearly concealed by a great bushel-basket, lurked
Master Thomas, crouching down, with a volume of Gil Bias in his hand.

"You here, Tom! What have you hidden yourself here for? What can make
you so savage to Mary?"

"She should not bother me," said Tom sulkily.

Norman sent Mary away, pacifying her by promises that he would not
revenge her quarrel upon Tom, and then, turning the basket upside down,
and perching himself astride on it, he began: "That is the kindest, most
forgiving little sister I ever did see. What possesses you to treat her
so ill?"

"I wasn't going to hurt her."

"But why drive her away? Why don't you come to read?" No answer;
and Norman, for a moment, felt as if Tom were really hopelessly
ill-conditioned and sullen, but he persevered in restraining his
desire to cuff the ill-humour out of him, and continued, "Come! there's
something wrong, and you will never be better till it is out. Tell
me--don't be afraid. Those fellows have been at you again?"

He took Tom by the arm to draw him nearer, but a cry and start of pain
were the result. "So they have licked you? Eh