CHAPTER VII.
JOSEY'S SORROW.
In the hurry and excitement, no one thought of little Josey. It was not till Aunt Fanny was sinking to sleep from the effects of the doctor's medicine that his mother found him sobbing by himself in the corner.
"What will become of Juley, mamma? will she have to be put into prison?"
"Don't think about Juley to-night, dear," she answered, soothingly. "You'll cry yourself sick. We must all thank God, who saved our dear Aunt Fanny's life. She was so good and thoughtful, and did not once stop on account of the pain in her hands, but threw water on the flames, and almost lifted the old woman into bed."
"Oh, mamma! I am glad about that; but I can't help thinking, if you hadn't taught me to love my sister, and not give way to temper, I might have—I mean, dear, darling Emma might have been burned to death. Do you think God has forgiven me, mamma, for striking her as I used to?"
"Yes, Josey, I am sure He has. You're a kind, affectionate brother now, teaching your sister to be patient and obliging."
She saw the shock had been too much for him. He trembled excessively as he tried to unbutton his jacket.