"And if I had not happened to come this way—"
"I must have stayed there till the folks came from the hay-field. I should have pretty near died of fright. Mother, who is that little girl?"
Then Mrs. Rowles remembered her niece.
Juliet had remained within a few paces of the dog, and stood like a statue, looking straight before her, as if she did not wish to see Mrs. Rowles and Emily. Her face was pale now, her mouth set, and her brows knitted with their most sullen expression. Her aspect was anything but attractive.
"Come here, Juliet, my dear," her aunt called out. "Let me thank you and kiss you."
Juliet did not stir.
"I want to thank you and—" Emily, clasped in her mother's arms, could not bring herself to add "kiss you."
"I don't want no thanks and no kisses," said the London child.
"Oh, but you have been so brave and good."
"I'm not a screaming coward like her," said Juliet; "that's all. Are we going to stay here all night?"