She had never been taught to be honest, so whenever she did a naughty thing, her first thought was to hide, or cover up the act. She never felt regret.
No one ever heard her gently say, "I'm sorry."
Softly she crept from her bed, and made her way across the floor to the dressing-case.
She put the box upon the floor, and pushed it well under it, and wholly out of sight.
"There!" she whispered. "That's all right. I would have finished the candy, but I didn't want the whole of it. I ate the best of it. The others weren't very nice."
Down in the long parlor the guests were no longer dancing.
They were resting, and listening to a lovely barcarolle played softly by the orchestra.
Flossie, clinging to Uncle Harry's hand, drew him toward the window.
"Look!" she said, as she parted the curtains. "It isn't raining now, and the moon is coming out. It will be pleasant to-morrow! And it has been lovely in here to-night."
"Dear little Flossie, dear little niece, it was your cheery, loving nature that led us to give your name to our baby. She has two fine names, she is Beatrice Florence. The first is Vera's mother's name, the second, dear, is yours."