“What made you do that?” inquired Bruce.
“I was foolishly frightened at the lightning,” replied Emmie meekly.
“Frightened, always frightened, at everything and at nothing!” said Bruce, but rather in sorrow than in anger. He was far more indulgent to the failings of Emmie than he was to those of Vibert.
The gentle girl, who was very anxious to bring about a reconciliation between her two brothers continued her mild expostulation with Bruce.
“I am sure that you do not think Vibert an idiot, though he may, perhaps, be a little selfish. I have heard you say yourself that Vibert has plenty of brain.”
“If he were not too lazy and self-indulgent to work it,” interrupted the elder brother.
“You do not think—you never have thought poor dear Vibert a selfish idiot,” persisted Emmie; “and oh! Bruce, if I could only persuade you to tell him that you are sorry for having spoken that one hasty word, if—”
“Apologize to Vibert! never!” cried Bruce, and he pushed his chair back from the table.
“Surely it is noble, generous, right to own to a brother that in a hasty moment we have done him a wrong!” said Emmie with an earnestness which brought the moisture into her eyes.
Bruce made no reply to his sister, but rose from his seat and left the room; not hurriedly, not passionately, but with that expression on his calm face in which Emmie easily read the unuttered thought, “I need no one’s advice to guide me, and I will receive rebuke from no one.”