ome. A moment later Rosetta Muriel had pounced on Annie,
and, as an indication of sisterly authority, was boxing both ears
impartially.

"You little piece! You might have been killed, and it would have served
you right. I don't believe you'll ever be anything better than a tomboy
as long as you live. If I was ma, I'd lick these tricks out of you, you
bet."

The frantic child, between her sister's blows and angry words, was more
like a furious little animal than a human being. Struggling in Rosetta
Muriel's grip, her face crimson with passion, she showed herself ready
to use tooth and nail indiscriminately in order to free herself. For all
her advantage in size and strength, Rosetta Muriel was unable to cope
with so ferocious an antagonist. She solved the problem by giving Annie
a violent push, as she released her hold. The child struck the ground at
some distance and with a force which brought Peggy's heart into her
mouth. But immediately Annie scrambled to her feet, her face scratched
and bleeding, and started toward home, screaming as she went, though
less from pain than from anger.

"That brat!" cried Rosetta Muriel breathing fast. Then her eyes fell on
Peggy, standing in disdainful quiet, and her expression showed
uncertainty. Rosetta Muriel was hardly capable of appreciating that for
one in a fit of passion to attempt to correct a child is the height of
absurdity, but she recognized the indignation Peggy took no pains to
hide.

"Does seem sometimes," observed Rosetta Muriel with an unsuccessful
effort to regain the air of languor which she imagined the badge of good
breeding, "as if nothing I could do would make a lady out of that young
one."

"I should think not," replied Peggy, and it was not her fault if Rosetta
Muriel thought the remark ambiguous. "Good night," she added hastily and
turned away, fearful that a longer interview would bring her to the
point of speaking her mind with a plainness hardly allowable on slight
acquaintance. Like many people noted for tact and consideration, Peggy,
when driven to frankness, left nothing unsaid that would throw light on
the situation.

Dorothy walked at her aunt's side with chastened step. In the chaos of
feeling into which Rosetta Muriel's unwise discipline had plunged her
small sister, there was little chance for the voice of Annie's
conscience to make itself heard. But Dorothy, on the other hand, was the
prey of conscientious qualms. She had been naughty. Anni