excitement and relief.
"My child! my darling! how did it happen? How came you to get caught
by that brute? How came you to be here at all?"
Emily was still unable to reply. Her mother carried her to a bench at
the other side of the yard, and soothed her until she was calm again.
But Juliet stood beside the dog; he was ashamed of himself, and he
bowed to a will stronger than his own. He felt that she was not afraid
of him, and he was afraid of her. Not that he had had any intention of
really hurting Emily; but it had seemed to him great fun, after doing
nothing all day but doze in the shade, to keep a child in custody, and
hear her cries for help.
"What made you come here, Emily?" said Mrs. Rowles again.
"Oh, father said Philip and I might come and meet you. And we did not
know which way you would come, so Philip went by the road and I came
by the fields."
"But how did you get over by the dog's kennel?"
"Oh, he was inside it, and I thought he was asleep. So I just went up
to look in at him, and he bounced out and shut me into the corner; and
he growled horribly, and would not let me come out."
"Poor child! And all the folks in the hay-field, I suppose, and not a
creature within call. I've often told you, Emily, not to go near
strange dogs."
"Yes, mother, I know. It was my own fault."
"And if I had not happened to come this way--"
"I must have stayed there till the folks came from the hay-field. I
should have pretty near died of fright. Mother, who is that little
girl?"
Then Mrs. Rowles remembered her niece.
Juliet had remained within a few paces of the dog, and stood like a
statue, looking straight before her, as if she did not wish to see
Mrs. Rowles and Emily. Her face was pale now, her mouth set, and her
brows knitted with their most sullen expression. Her aspect was
anything but attractive.
"Come here, Juliet, my dear," her aunt called out. "Let me thank you
and kiss you."
Juliet did not stir.
"I want to thank you and--" Emily, clasped in her mother's arms, could
not bring herself to add "kiss you."
"I don't want no thanks and no kisses," said the London child.
"Oh, but you have been so brave and good."
"I'm not a screaming coward like _her_," said Juliet; "that's all. Are
we going to stay here all night?"
Emily whispered to her mother, "Who is she?"
"Your poor cousin from London. You must be _very_ kind to her, poor
girl; she is _so_ disagreeable."
Emily looked wit
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