Barry's grumbled words in answer were so very unsatisfactory, that Mr. Mathieson in a rage advanced towards him with uplifted fist; but Nettie sprang in between, and very nearly caught the blow that was meant for her brother.
"Please, father, don't!" she cried;—"please, father, don't be angry! Barry didn't think—he didn't——"
"Why didn't he?" said Mr. Mathieson. "Great lazy rascal! He wants to be flogged."
"Oh, don't!" said Nettie: "he didn't know why I asked him, or he wouldn't have refused me."
"Why did you, then?"
"Because it made my back ache so to bring it—I couldn't help asking him."
"Did you ever ask him before?"
"Never mind, please, father!" said Nettie, sweetly. "Just don't think about me, and don't be angry with Barry. It's no matter now."
"Who does think about you? Your mother don't, or she would have seen to this before."
"Mother didn't know my back ached. Father, you know she hasn't a minute: she is so busy getting breakfast in time; and she didn't know I wasn't strong enough. Father, don't tell her, please, I asked Barry. It would worry her so. Please don't, father."