It was the
unkindness on one side, and the temper on the other, that made Miss
Fosbrook uneasy.
The work had gone on happily for nearly an hour, and Bessie was
copying a forget-me-not off a little painted card-board pincushion of
her own, when steps were heard, little trotting steps, and Susan came
in with little George. He had been pushed down by Johnnie, and was
rather in a fretful mood; and Susan had left all her happy play to
bring him in to rest and comfort him, coming to the school-room
because Nurse Freeman was out. Before Elizabeth had time to hide
away her doings, George had seen the bright pincushion, and was
holding out his hands for it. Bessie hastily pocketed it. George
burst out crying; and Susan, without more ado, threw herself on her
sister, and, pinioning Bessie's slight arm by the greater strength of
her firm one, was diving into her pocket in spite of her struggles.
"Susan, leave off," said Miss Fosbrook; "let your sister alone. She
has a right to do what she likes with her own."
"It is so cross in her," said Susan, obeying however, but only to
snatch up little George, and hug and kiss him.
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