But when she saw three frightful scratches and a black bruise on the face of Brother Albert, she could not help thinking that Smith had acted badly.

And then to draw a pistol, too! To threaten to kill her own dear, dear brother! She couldn't ever forgive him, she said.

If she had seen the much more serious damage which poor, dear, dear Smith had suffered at the tender hands of her dear, dear brother, I doubt not she would have had an equally strong indignation against Albert.
For Westcott's face was in mourning, and the Privileged Infant had lost his cheerfulness.

He did not giggle for ten days.

He did not swear "by George" once.