h a sort of awe at her sullen cousin.

Then Mrs. Rowles set her own child on the ground, and went and put her
hand on Juliet's shoulder, saying, "Emily wants to thank you for being
so brave. You _have_ a spirit of your own!"

Juliet coloured as if angry at being praised, and said, "It ain't no
use to have a spirit when you are stupid and awkward. I tore my sleeve
with pulling at that dog."

"Oh, that is nothing; that can be mended. Now we must be getting home,
or father will wonder where we are."

They went through the gate at the further side of the farm, and came
out into fields. In one of these, but at a little distance, they saw
the farmer and all his men and maids busily turning over the hay that
it might be well dried by the early sun next morning. Juliet asked no
questions, though she was surprised at every step by strange country
customs; and it did not cross the minds of Mrs. Rowles and Emily to
explain what they themselves knew so well. Indeed, Emily was still
trembling from the fright she had undergone, and Mrs. Rowles's
thoughts were fully occupied.

They came to a stile over which they climbed, Juliet so awkwardly that
she slipped into a ditch among sting-nettles.

"Oh, the horrid things!" she exclaimed; "they've bitten me!"

"It is only nettles," said her aunt; "you've got stung."

"I see the marks of their teeth," persisted Juliet, rubbing the little
spots made by the nettles.

Emily would have laughed at her cousin, but that she felt too much
depressed by her own adventure.

And then they were on the towing-path, and the great river, all
glowing with the reflected gold and red of the sunset sky, was gliding
past them on its peaceful way.

"There!" said Mrs. Rowles, "do you know what that is, Juliet?"

"A river."

"Yes, it is the Thames,"

"No, it ain't; not my Thames."

"Yes, my dear; though you do contradict me, it is the Thames for all
that."

"I know the Thames well enough," said Juliet; "it is twice as broad as
this. And it is all inky-like; and it has wharves and smoky chimneys
and steamboats and masts all over it. This ain't no Thames; I know
bettor than that."

"Oh, but, cousin Juliet," Emily put in, "the Thames is young here, and
it is old at London. Some day you will get old, and once on a time
mother was a little girl like you."

Still unconvinced the London child made no rejoinder.

Mrs. Rowles began to cross to the lock-house by the planks of the
lock.

"Come caref