"Oh! it wasn't your fault, I'll be bound," was the gracious reply.
"What a ruffian you must be, George, to shed your brother's blood."

"La! Susan," said George, with a doleful whine, "I wasn't going to
shed the beggar's blood. I was only going to give him a hiding for his
impudence."

"Or take one for your own," replied William coolly.

"That is more likely," said Susan. "George, take William's hand; take
it this instant, I say," cried she, with an air imperative and
impatient.

"Well, why not? don't you go in a passion, Susan, about nothing," said
George coaxingly.

They took hands; she made them hold one another by the hand, which
they did with both their heads hanging down. "While I speak a word to
you two," said Susan Merton.

"You ought both to go on your knees, and thank Providence that sent me
here to prevent so great a crime; and as for you, your character must
change greatly, George Fielding, before I trust myself to live in a
house of yours."

"Is all the blame to fall on my head?" said George, letting go
William's hand with no great apparent reluctance.

"Of course it is! William is a quiet lad that quarrels with nobody;