ll Fidelia's hair with savage fingers. She wanted to bump her head
against the wall, again and again. But with an effort so great that it
made her tremble, she controlled herself, and stood looking steadily at
Fidelia without a word.

"I mustn't speak," she kept saying desperately to herself. "I mustn't
speak, or my tempah will get away with me. I might claw her eyes out. I
wish I could! Oh, I _wish_ I could!" Her teeth were set tightly together,
and her hands were clenched.

Fidelia met her angry gaze unflinchingly for an instant, and then, with a
contemptuous "pooh!" raised the pitcher and gave it a lurch forward. It
was so heavy that it turned in her hands, and instead of drenching Lloyd,
its contents deluged Fanchette, who suddenly came out of the door beside
Lloyd, with the thousand dollar poodle in her arms.

Poor Beauty gave an injured yelp, and Fidelia drew back and slammed the
door, locking it hastily. She knew that the maid would hurry to her
mistress while he was still shivering, and that there would be an
uncomfortable account to settle by and by.

Howell, who had crept up to watch the fuss, doubled himself with laughter.
It amused him even more than it had Fidelia that he had escaped the water,
and Lloyd had caught it in his stead. Lloyd swept past him without a word,
and ran to her mother's room so angry that she could not keep the tears
back while telling her grievance.

"_See_ what that horrid Sattawhite girl has done!" she cried, holding out
her limp wet skirts, and streaked sash, with an expression of disgust. I
just _despise_ her!"

"It was an accident, was it not?" asked Mrs. Sherman.

"Oh, she didn't know she was throwing the watah on me, when she pitched it
out, but she was glad that it happened to hit me. She didn't even say
'excuse me,' let alone say that she was sorry. And she laughed and held on
to her sides, and laughed again, and said, 'oh, what a joke,' and that it
was the funniest thing that she evah saw. I think her mothah ought to know
what bad mannahs she's got. Somebody ought to tell her. I told Fidelia
what I thought of her, and I'll nevah speak to her again! So there!"

Mrs. Sherman listened sympathetically to her tale of woe, but as she
unbuttoned the wet dress, and Lloyd still stormed on, she sighed as if to
herself, "Poor Fidelia!"

"Why, mothah," said Lloyd, in an aggrieved tone, "I didn't s'pose that
you'd take her part against me."

"Stop and think a minute, little da