“They who live in glass-houses shouldn’t throw stones, should they, my little puss?” said Uncle Morris, leading Jessie into the dining-room.
“Hugh is always teasing me,” replied Jessie, “I wish he was more like Guy.”
Dinner was waiting, and taking their seats at the table, they all sat in silence, while Uncle Morris reverently craved a blessing. He had hardly finished, before Charlie and Emily rushed into the room, leaving traces of their feet on the carpet, at every step.
“My dears, where have you been to wet your feet so?” asked Mrs. Carlton, seeing that their boots were soaked with water.
“Oh! it’s been thawing, Aunt, and we got our feet wet, sliding,” said Emily, as she took her seat at the table, panting and pushing the ringlets back from her face.
“You had better put on dry socks and boots, before you eat,” observed Mrs. Carlton. She then touched the bell. The servant entered.
“Mary,” said the lady, “take these children to their rooms, and change their socks and boots!”
“Yes mem,” said Mary, looking daggers at the two cousins.
“Can’t I wait till after dinner, aunt?” asked Emily.
“No, my dear. You must go at once, lest you get cold by sitting still so long with wet feet.”