“Let me see the dress,” she said; “perhaps it isn’t very bad.”
Faith opened the trunk and pulled out the blue dress, which only that morning had been so fresh and dainty. Now it was rumpled, soiled and torn. Faith’s tears flowed afresh as she held it out for Louise to see.
“I guess you’d better tell your aunt,” Louise said soberly. “Tell her now, this minute,” she added quickly; “the sooner the better.”
Faith looked at her in surprise. She wondered at herself that she had hidden the dress, or even thought of not telling Aunt Prissy.
“I’ll go now,” she said, and, still holding the dress, walked out of the room. She no longer felt afraid. As she went down the stairs she thought over all Aunt Prissy’s goodness toward her. “I’ll tell her that I can wear my other dress for best,” she decided.
The boys were already in bed; Mr. Scott was attending to the evening chores, and Aunt Prissy was alone in the sitting-room when Faith appeared in the doorway.
“Aunt Prissy, look! I tore my dress coming home to-day, and I was afraid to tell you! Oh, Aunt Prissy!” for her aunt had taken Faith and the blue dress into her arms, and held the little girl closely as she said:
“Why, dear child! How could you ever be afraid of me? About a dress, indeed! A torn dress is nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Louise, you are my very best friend,” Faith declared happily, as she came running into the room a few minutes later. “I am so glad you made me tell.”
Louise looked at Faith with shining eyes. She wished there was some wonderful thing that she could do for Faith as a return for all the happiness her friendship had brought into her life.