"What is all this discussion and high voices about?" demanded Lois Henry. "I will not have the night disturbed by brawls. Both children shall be whipped soundly and sent to bed."
"Nay, mother, listen." Andrew straightened himself up but still kept his arm protectingly about Primrose, glad that the falling twilight did not betray the scarlet heat in his face. "It came from a misunderstanding. Faith did not know we were cousins by the father's side, as she and I are on the mother's. It is hard for little ones to get all the lines of relationship, and this being Faith's true home it seemed as if her right must be best. But now they are at peace and will be pleasant enough on the morrow. They did nothing worthy of punishment."
Faith was glad enough of the chance to escape, for she had already smarted from the rod in the resolute hands of her aunt. She came toward her now and said humbly:
"I did not understand, truly. I will be wiser and never again think it untrue. And now—shall I go up to bed?"
Lois Henry was not satisfied, but she did not want to have open words with her son before the children.
"Both go to bed at once," she said sharply. "Rachel?"
"I am here," said the elder girl quietly.
"Take Primrose upstairs and see that she is fixed for the night, though, hereafter, she will wait upon herself. I like not to have children brought up helpless."
"Go, my little dear," Andrew whispered caressingly. "To-morrow——"
Primrose was awed by Aunt Lois and followed with no further word or sign.