Marcus was very cross to Hatty for a day or two after their conversation in the arbour; and whenever he was in the house he kept the children perpetually uncomfortable with his teasing.

Hatty had all this to bear in silence, for she would not trouble her mother with complaints when she had so much on her mind.

Saturday came, and Marcus was to be at home all day. Hatty actually dreaded it. She did not know how she should get through so many hours, with Marcus about the house, so she resolved to go early to the arbour, and perhaps he would not follow her there.

Marcus lounged about by himself for a while, and at last, out of loneliness, he went down to the arbour, too.

Hatty looked up pleasantly as he drew near, and said: “Why can’t you get a book, Marcus, and read something to Meg and me?”

“To Meg and you!” said Marcus, contemptuously. “A pretty business for a boy of twelve!”

Hatty did not like contempt, and she answered, hastily: “I am only two years younger than you are, and mother says I am farther advanced in some of my studies!”

“Hurrah for the red-head; touch her, and she goes off like a brimstone match!” said Marcus, triumphantly, for he was tired of having all the crossness on his own side.

“Hatty’s hair isn’t red,” said Meg, angrily. “I heard a lady say, the other day, it was beautiful auburn hair; and she said Hatty was sweet-looking and good, and that is more than anybody will say of you.”

“Bad boy! bad boy! Go away!” said Harry, lifting his fat little leg and trying to kick Marcus with his wee foot.

Hatty could not reprove the children, for she herself had set the example of speaking angry words.

Heartily ashamed of herself, she said: “I am very sorry I spoke so to you, Marcus; it was not right. I ought not to mind being put with Meg, for she is a dear little girl, and I love her very much.”

“And I love Hatty, and you shan’t be cross to her,” said Meg, putting her arms round Hatty.

“It was Hatty who was cross,” said the little girl, sadly. “Poor Hatty is only trying to be good. She does wrong very, very often.”

“Hatty dood! Hatty dood!” said Harry, nestling at her side.

Marcus walked away, without saying another word. He took his fishing-rod, and Hatty saw him no more that day.

When Marcus came home in the evening he was very tired. The family had all done supper. He took what he wanted, alone, and then went up to bed without saying “good-night” to any body. When he got into his own room, he saw on the floor by his bed a beautiful pair of slippers, with dogs’ heads worked neatly upon them. He took off his heavy shoes. How comfortable the slippers felt to his tired feet! Such an excellent fit so loose and easy! “How kind in mother to make them!” he thought. “When could she have had the time.”

Marcus was going to rush to the door of Aunt Barbara’s room to thank his mother, when he saw a little note lying on the table. He broke it open and read:

“Dear Marcus: It has made me very sad all the week to think you were displeased with me. I love you very dearly, and cannot bear to have you look at me as if you did not care for me. I know I made you angry by speaking about the mark at school. If I had not cared for you I should not have spoken as I did. I hope you will yet tell Mr. Briggs. Perhaps I am too naughty myself to give anybody advice. Please forgive me all I have ever done wrong to you. I began to work these slippers as soon as I got home from grandma’s, and they were only finished this week. I hope they will fit you. Won’t you be pleasant to-morrow morning to your sister Hatty?”

Marcus read the note, with the slippers on his feet. He felt ashamed of his unkindness to his little sister, and he resolved to meet her pleasantly in the morning. Marcus did not go to sleep until late that night, but we will not tell what was the subject of his thoughts.

The next morning Marcus’ ill humor seemed to have all passed away. He made no apology to Hatty for his late rudeness, but she was generous enough to forget the past. She did not now in her turn sulk and pout, and so keep up the quarrel, but she received him as cheerfully as if nothing had happened.

Marcus wore the new slippers, and declared he had never had a present that suited him better, and Hatty was repaid for all her trouble.

Hatty fancied that at church Marcus was more attentive than usual, and once she thought she saw him wipe his eyes, as if he were affected by something the clergyman said; but she was soon afraid she had been mistaken, for he began to look about as usual, and even exchanged a glance of recognition with one of his acquaintances in the gallery.

Hatty felt anxious for her brother, and she was particularly tender and kind in her manner towards him all day, and in the evening, when she went to bed, she prayed earnestly that God would soften his heart, and lead him to do right. Hatty had not forgotten that Marcus had acted a lie, and she remembered that our Heavenly Father is “a God who hateth a lie.”