Guy praised and which led them to cease their angry
jibes. With Guy alone they might have contended. But Rover was an enemy
they had not courage to face.

To the wounded pride and the ill temper of Madge, shame was now added. The
kind and gentle Jessie had heard her _swear_, had seen her face flushed
with passion, had had a glimpse into the dark corner of her evil nature.
Poor Madge! She sullenly refused to speak or to permit either of the party
to take her hand; but lagging behind the rest, she silently followed them
home.

Jessie bade her friend, Carrie, good-by in front of Mr. Sherwood's
cottage. As they kissed each other, Carrie put her mouth to Jessie's ear
and whispered--

"Jessie, shall I tell you what I think about Madge?"

"Yes."

"I wouldn't trouble my head about her any more, if I were you. She is a
terribly wicked creature!"

Jessie sighed, but said nothing. On reaching home finding no one at
liberty to talk with her, she went to her chamber and getting her writing
materials and her portfolio, went down into the parlor and wrote the
following answer to her cousin Emily's letter:

GLEN MORRIS COTTAGE, DUNCANVILLE, NOV. --, 18--.

DEAR COUSIN:

I was glad to receive your letter, and to learn that you were all
well at Morristown. I cannot tell you how happy it made me to hear
that you are trying to be good. I wish I was good all the time, but,
as Uncle Morris says, it is so much easier to do wrong than it is to
do right. I can't tell you how much I love our dear uncle, for he is
always helping me to be good. He says a good heart is God's gift, and
that we must ask him to give it to us for the sake of his dear Son.
Well, I ask for a good heart three times every day, and if you do so
too, God will hear you and bless you.

What do you think? Yesterday I found a poor girl named Madge in the
road near the pump at the four corners. You know the place. Well, I
asked Uncle Morris to take her home and he did. Her mother is here
too. I thought Madge was so nice, and would learn to be good _so_
easy, that I began to love her dearly. But to-day, she swore
dreadfully and wouldn't speak to me. Isn't it fearful? I'm afraid I
shan't be able to love her as I want to any more. Oh dear! I'm so
sorry. Well, you and I must try to be good. Give my love to uncle and
aunt, and to Charlie, and believe me to be

Your affect