Harebell's friend

by Amy Le Feuvre

"Tell me about it, little woman."

Harebell worked her fingers in and out of his coat buttonhole nervously.

"Do you think I told you a lie yesterday? I didn't. It was a mistake, not a lie, and Aunt Diana won't believe me."

"How was it?"

Harebell was silent.

"I can't explain myself—but I'm telling true. And if—"

Here she got excited and waved her hands about.

"If Aunt Diana was to burn me, or flog me, or drown me, I couldn't say anything but that I didn't tell a lie!"

"Try and explain," said her uncle gently. "Your aunt has such a horror of deceit and lying that perhaps she did not give you time to speak."

"I can't tell her. She won't believe me. But oh, Uncle Herbert, I can't live without Chris. If she sends me away from him, I shall die. I shall never live to come back. Please don't let her send me away to school."