“You could help it,” replied Emily.
“There, take that!” said Charlie, striking his sister a heavy blow on the shoulder with his fist.
Emily was about to strike back, but Jessie stepped between them, and separating them, said:
“O Emily! don’t strike your brother! It’s so wicked, you know, for brothers and sisters to fight.” Then turning to Charlie, she added, “Don’t you know how mean it is for a boy to strike a girl? Boys should protect girls, and not beat them. If you hit Emily again, I shall not be able to love you any more.”
Charlie turned away, and seating himself in a chair, began to suck his thumb, while he gazed on the broken glass which was spread over the carpet. Just then, old Rover, finding the parlor door ajar, pushed it open, and walked up to his young mistress, wagging his tail, and rubbing her hand with his nose, which was his way of saying, “I hope you are glad to see me, this afternoon.”
Jessie patted his head, and sat down wearing a very grave face. Rover thought something was amiss, but not knowing how to inquire into the matter, after a few more rubs of his nose upon his little lady’s hand, laid down, and looked wistfully into her eyes.
Rover’s presence put a new idea into the evil mind of Emily. She turned it over silently a few moments, and then said:
“Jessie! I have just thought of a capital way of getting out of this scrape about the mirror.”
“Have you?” replied her cousin. “I don’t see how you can do that, unless you can get some fairy to mend it for us, and I guess there are no good fairies, to do such things for unlucky girls and boys, now-a-days.”
“Fairies indeed!” retorted Emily with a sneer. “I don’t believe in fairies. My plan is to tell your mother, that while Rover was playing with us, he bounced against the mirror, and broke it to smash.”