“My doll is not stupid,” cried Fanny; “you tried to make her so by cutting her head off, you naughty, ill-natured boy;” and Fanny seized his arm feeling much inclined to box his ears.
“Let me alone,” cried Norman. “I am not going to talk about your stupid doll, and stupid she is; and I wish Mrs Norton had not put on her head again. I will tell papa you pinched me, though you do pretend to be so sweet and gentle.”
Fanny felt both hurt and indignant and angry at this accusation. She let go her brother’s arm, and looked at him in a way which she had never before done.
“You have taken my doll, I know you have, and I do not believe you, even though you say that you have not,” she exclaimed.
“I won’t say anything about it,” said Norman, looking very determined.
“Then I must ask granny and mamma, to make you, you naughty boy,” she cried.
“They cannot make me if I do not know where she is; and I will pay you off for threatening me,” cried Norman.
Fanny was going back to the house, feeling unable to bear any longer with her little brother, when she caught sight of Trusty, at the further end of the walk, scratching away with might and main in the ground near her garden. Norman saw him too, and felt very uncomfortable. If he did not drive the dog away, what he had done would certainly be discovered; but he dare not go near him without his whip, for Trusty was apt to snarl if he attempted to catch him.
“What can Trusty be about?” she exclaimed, going towards her garden.
Norman followed, though he would rather have run away. As he went on he picked up some stones, which the gardener had dug up out of a newly-made bed. He was just going to throw one at the dog, when Fanny turning round saw him and held his hand; while Trusty, scratching away more vehemently than ever, caught hold of a piece of white muslin, which he had exposed to view, and dragged forth poor Miss Lucy sadly dirtied and disfigured. Norman let the stones drop from his hands in dismay.