Ellen thought, if he did not, it would not be her fault. She truly repented her momentary anger and hasty speech to William. Not that he did not deserve it, or that it was not true; but it was unwise, and had done mischief; and "it was not a bit like peace-making, nor meek at all," Ellen said to herself. She had been reading that morning the fifth chapter of Matthew, and it ran in her head, "Blessed are the meek" "Blessed are the peace-makers; for they shall be called the children of God." She strove to get back a pleasant feeling towards her young companions, and prayed that she might not be angry at anything they should say. She was tried again at tea- time.
Miss Sophia had quitted the table, bidding William hand the dough-nuts to those who could not reach them. Marianne took a great while to make her choice. Her brother grew impatient.
"Well, I hope you have suited yourself?" said he. "Come, Miss Montgomery, don't you be as long; my arm is tired. Shut your eyes, and then you'll be sure to get the biggest one in the basket."
"No, Ellen," said John, who none of the children thought was near "it would be ungenerous I wouldn't deprive Master William of his best arguments."
"What do you mean by my arguments?" said William, sharply.
"Generally, those which are the most difficult to take in," answered his tormentor with perfect gravity.
Ellen tried to keep from smiling, but could not; and others of the party did not try. William and his sister were enraged, the more because John had said nothing they could take hold of, or even repeat. Gilbert made common cause with them.
"I wish I was grown up for once," said William.
"Will you fight me, Sir?" asked Gilbert, who was a matter of three years older, and well-grown enough.
His question received no answer, and was repeated.