Now came an anxious period in Hatty’s home. Mrs. Lee, and a nurse who was hired for the purpose, spent their time in Aunt Barbara’s room, while the Doctor came and went with a troubled, serious air.

On Hatty, meanwhile, fell the care of Meg and Harry. Hatty found having Meg in her room by no means so troublesome as she had expected. Meg’s desire to meddle with Hatty’s things, and to put them out of order, seemed to have gone now that she could say “our room.” She even made herself a kind of guardian against Harry’s inroads; and when she heard his little feet pattering that way, she would get in advance of him with her swift skips, and have the door shut before he reached it.

Hatty found it quite impossible to keep the children quiet, so she managed to have them in the garden as much as she could, in pleasant weather, that they might not disturb Aunt Barbara.

At the foot of the wide walk that led down between the flower beds, was a pleasant arbour, and here Hatty made a kind of a little home of her own. Marcus put up a tight box on one of the seats, and there Hatty kept a store of books and playthings for herself and the children, to make the place attractive, and looked so bright and happy herself, that when Marcus came from school he was glad to leave the dull, quiet house, to join the circle in the arbour.

Hatty was busy sewing there, one day, while Meg made a parasol for her doll, of a maple leaf, and Harry drew a long-necked squash up and down the walk for a carriage. Suddenly Hatty heard Marcus come out the back door, whistling a cheerful tune. Hatty tucked her work in her pocket, and quickly picked up some bits of bright-colored worsted that were scattered over her dress.

Marcus came down the walk, kicking a ball before him, and leaped into the arbour with a regular bound.

“Well, Hatty,” he exclaimed, “I was head of my class to-day, and did not get a mark for being late, either. So I stand a chance for the prize yet.”

“Were you not late?” asked Hatty, with surprise.

“O yes!” answered Marcus, with a laugh. “The boys were all on their knees when I went in, but I opened the door quietly, and nobody heard me; so I got off famously.”

“But what did you say when your name was called? You did not tell an untruth, Marcus?” said Hatty, anxiously.

“No, indeed!” said Marcus, indignantly. “I am above that!”

“I don’t understand it at all,” said Hatty, uneasily.

“Why, this was the way. When Mr. Briggs called over the names for punctuality, some how or other his attention wandered just before he got to my name, and he skipped it, so I did not have to answer at all. After Mr. Briggs went out I looked at my name, and there was a cross after it for punctual; so you see it is all right, and my chance for the prize is as good as ever.”

“I would rather have a brother who told the truth, than one who got the prize,” said Hatty, earnestly. “Dear Marcus, won’t you tell Mr. Briggs about it?”

“I shall do no such thing. Girls are so silly! You never can make them understand anything,” said Marcus, hastily.

But Hatty did understand. She felt that Marcus had acted a lie for the sake of winning the prize he so greatly desired. She knew he would be angry if she said anything more about it; but she could not be silent and let him do wrong, without one more effort. After a moment, in which she asked God to help her to keep down her own quick temper if Marcus should make a harsh reply, Hatty said:

“Marcus, you know what mother tells us about the book where what we call secret things are written down, to be read on the great day when all things will be known. Something will stand against your name, there, worse than a mark for being unpunctual. Dear Marcus, do tell the truth, and not mind the prize. You will not care about the prize when you are happy with the beautiful angels in Heaven; but you will love to remember how you did right, when it came so very hard.”

It had cost Hatty a great effort to say all this, and now she burst into tears.

“Girls are so silly!” said Marcus, impatiently. “I wish you would not set up to lecture me, Miss?” and the brother walked angrily away.

“For shame! For shame!” shouted little Meg, who had been an unnoticed listener to the conversation, and her slender finger was pointed at her brother. He took no notice of her; and she turned to Hatty, and threw her arms round her neck, and said: “Don’t cry, sister. Meg will be a good girl. I will try very hard.”

“Will you, Meg?” said Hatty, brightening. “Then I shall be very happy.”

Now Meg had only wanted to say something to comfort Hatty, and had spoken the first words that came into her mind, without thinking what they meant. When she saw Hatty seem so much pleased, she thought to herself: “I do mean to try, if Hatty wants it so very much.”

At that moment Harry’s voice was heard in loud, angry screams. Hatty and Meg ran to the spot from whence they came. Marcus walked sheepishly away, as they appeared, ashamed to own that in his ill-humor he had been teasing his little brother.

Harry was a sweet-tempered, affectionate little fellow, ready to put up his mouth to kiss anybody who smiled upon him; but now he had been too far provoked to bear all patiently.

Marcus had run away with his yellow carriage and dashed it against a stone, until all the seeds that had been riding about so comfortably were scattered far and wide on the grass. Then, because he looked displeased, and said, “Naughty boy!” Marcus had perched him on the high chicken-coop, and left him to scream for himself, or roll off as he best could.

Hatty took the little fellow in her arms and wiped away his tears. She promised to hunt with him for a “beautiful squash,” larger than the one he had lost, and he was soon comforted, and began to smooth her face and say, “Dear Hatty Hatty so dood.”

“Yes, Hatty is so good,” echoed Meg.

“Sister is only trying to be good,” said Hatty, modestly. But the praise of the little ones went to her heart.

Marcus was sulky towards Hatty all the noon. He did not go out to help her feed the bantams, though she went through the room where he was, with the food in her hand, to give him a chance, if he wished, to join her pleasantly.

Hatty loved her brother, and since she had been making an effort to govern her temper, she had enjoyed being with him. He, too, found in her a very pleasant companion. She was ready to listen to him when he talked, and let herself be instructed, though she sometimes knew as much as he did about the subjects of which he was speaking. Marcus did not teaze Hatty much of late, as she had learned to laugh, herself, even when he warmed his hands by her red hair, or asked her if she was so hot-tempered that she had set her head on fire in a passion.

Marcus was glad that day when it came time for him to go to school again, though he generally thought the intermission quite too short. He missed Hatty, and he felt uneasy about what she had said. An uncomfortable feeling was at his heart. He was acting a lie! The truth had been plainly told him, and he could not forget it.