“I will gladly stop and play with Norman, and promise not to laugh at him,” answered Fanny, ever ready to forgive, though, as she moved her arm, she felt much pain.
“Will you try again, Norman, and let me show you how you may hit the ball?” she said gently.
Norman sulkily consented, and their mamma, thinking that he was reconciled to his sister, returned to the house.
Fanny again set to work to show her brother how he ought to strike the trap, and in a short time, by following her directions, he was able to send the ball some distance. He now, highly delighted, kept her running about in all directions. Her arm hurt her too much to enable her to catch the ball, and though she might frequently have rolled it back against the trap and put him out, seeing how much amused he was she refrained from doing so.
“We will have another game by-and-by,” he exclaimed, as they were summoned to dinner, and he went in highly pleased with his performance, and ready to boast about it, but he entirely forgot the injury he had done to poor Fanny.
They had another game in the afternoon, though Fanny could with difficulty play.
When she was putting on her frock in the evening to go down to dessert, Susan observed that her shoulder was very black.
“What have you done to your shoulder, Miss Fanny?” she asked; “I must put something to it.”
Fanny had to confess that Norman had thrown the bat at her, but begged Susan not to scold him.
“I cannot promise, Miss, not to do that,” she answered, “I am so angry with him. He is a regular little tyrant. Trusty knows it, if nobody else does, for, from the day the young gentleman came into the house he has kept away from him, and I think he ought to be whipped for many other things besides telling stories.”