ily possessions combined. What, then, was her
consternation this morning to see Fudge dash around the corner of the
house dangling the fair Angelina by the blue silk dress, which he held
between his teeth, and Tilderee following in wild pursuit! Joan rushed
out and rescued her treasure; but, alas! it was in a sadly dilapidated
condition. She picked up a stick and started after the dog, but
Tilderee interfered.

"Oh, please, dear Joan!" she cried, holding her back by the apron
strings. "Fudge isn't the most to blame. I took Angelina. I s'pose
he pulled off the wig and broke the arm, but I pushed the eyes in;
didn't mean to, though--was only trying to make them open and shut.
Tilderee's so sorry, Joan!"

The explanation ended with a contrite sob and what Mr. Prentiss called
"a sun shower." But the sight of the child's tears, instead of
appeasing, only irritated Joan the more. Giving her a smart shake, she
said excitedly:

"Tilderee Prentiss, you're a naughty, naughty girl! I wish you didn't
live here. I wish mother had let you go with the lady at the Fort who
wanted to adopt you. I wish I hadn't any little sister at all!"

Tilderee stopped crying, and stood gazing at the angry girl in
astonishment; then, swallowing a queer lump that came in her throat,
she drew herself up with a baby dignity which would have been funny but
for the pathetic expression of her sweet face, as she lisped slowly:
"Very well. P'rhaps some day Tilderee'll go away and never come back
again!"

She turned and went into the house, with Fudge at her heels. As he
passed Joan his tail, which had drooped in shame at his conduct,
erected itself defiantly, and he uttered a growl of protest.

Joan remained disconsolately hugging and weeping over the ill-fated
Angelina. But, somehow, she did not feel any better for having yielded
to her anger. "Tilderee deserved a good scolding," she said to herself
over and over again. Still there was a weight upon her heart, not
caused by the ruin of the doll; for, notwithstanding all the excuses
she could muster, her conscience reproached her for those unkind,
bitter words. After a while, remembering that she had been cautioned
not to let Tilderee out of her sight, she started to look for her. The
culprit was soon discovered in the corner of the kitchen cupboard,
which she called-her "cubby-house," engaged in lecturing Fudge for
running away with Angelina.

"Never meddle with what does not belon