"Jealous little imp!" laughed Miss Merlin.
"I am not jealous, I am only vexed," sobbed Beatrice.
"What at? what at?" was the general question.
But Beatrice only answered by tears and sobs. This gentlest of all gentle creatures was in a passion! It was unprecedented; it was wonderful and alarming!
"I should really like to know what is the matter with you, you foolish child! Why are you so angry with me? It is very unkind!" said Miss Merlin, feeling, she knew not why, a little ashamed.
"I would not be angry with you if you would treat him properly, like a young gentleman, and not like a dog! You treat him for all the world as you treat Fido," said this little lady of so few years, speaking with an effort of moral courage that distressed her more than her companions could have guessed, as she turned and walked away.
Ishmael stepped after her. There were moments when the boy's soul arose above all the embarrassments incident to his age and condition.
He stepped after her, and taking her hand, and pressing it affectionately, said:
"Thank you, Bee! Thank you, dear, dearest, Bee! It was bravely done!"
She turned her tearful, smiling face towards the youth, and replied: