Very much startled, she looked around quickly, and the pen fell from her unaccustomed fingers upon the composition, scattering ink in every direction. At this moment her brother entered the room, and at one glance took in Helen's frightened look and the blotted paper.
"Didn't I tell you not to touch that?" he thundered, all the stored-up anger of weeks coming to the surface, and, springing forward, he caught her by the shoulder, gave her a furious shake, and pushed her from him with all his strength. With a frightened scream she fell backwards, striking her head against the edge of the half-open door.
"You wicked boy!" cried Bess, greatly shocked; "perhaps you have killed her."
But Helen's cries told that it was not so bad as this. Everybody came running to see what the matter was, and Joanna picked her up and carried her into Aunt Zélie's room, where it was found that a large lump on her head and a bruise on her arm were the worst of her injuries. Bess told how it happened.
"I can't think what ails Carl lately," said Louise.
"He is a mean, hateful boy," sobbed Helen; "I don't care if I did spoil his composition."
Feeling that it would be of no use to talk to her then, Aunt Zélie left her to the tender ministrations of her sisters and Joanna, and went to seek the chief offender.
He was still in the girls' room, standing his ground defiantly.
The moment's fright lest he had hurt Helen badly had passed, and the sight of his composition stirred his anger afresh.
"Is it true that you threw your sister down?" His aunt stood before him with a look in her dark eyes which it was not pleasant to meet.