"Ned has been bullying her," said Madge, anger suddenly firing her
pretty face. And she, too, was in the street in a moment, followed by
all of us, Philip Winwood joining with a ready boyish curiosity and
interest in what concerned his new acquaintances.

Sure enough, it was Fanny Faringfield, Madge's younger sister, coming
along the street, her knuckles in her eyes, the tears streaming down
her face; and behind her, with his fists in his coat pockets, and his
cruel, sneering laugh on his bold, handsome face, came Ned, the eldest
of the four Faringfield young ones. He and Fanny were returning from a
children's afternoon tea-party at the Wilmots' house in William
Street, from which entertainment Madge had stayed away because she had
had another quarrel with Ned, whom she, with her self-love and high
spirit, had early learned to hate for his hectoring and domineering
nature. I shared Madge's feeling there, and was usually at daggers
drawn with Ned Faringfield; for I never would take any man's
browbeating. Doubtless my own quickness of temper was somewhat to
blame. I know that it got me into many fights, and had, in fact, kept
me too from that afternoon's tea, I being then not on speaking terms
with one of the Wilmot boys. As for Madge's detestation of Ned, she
made up for it by her love of little Tom, who then and always deserved
it. Tom was a true, kind, honest, manly fellow, from his cradle to
that sad night outside the Kingsbridge tavern. Madge loved Fanny too,
but less wholly. As for Fanny, dear girl, she loved them all, even
Ned, to whom she rendered homage and obedience; and to save whom from
their father's hard wrath, she now, at sight of us all issuing from
the gateway, suddenly stopped crying and tried to look as if nothing
were the matter.

Ned, seeing his father, paled and hesitated; but the next moment came