“How did you get those buds?” asked Miss Rose.
“I reached out of the window,” said Clematis, “why, was that stealing?”
Miss Rose gasped.
“Clematis, do you mean to tell me that you climbed out of the window and reached for that branch?”
Clematis nodded. Tears came into her eyes. She must have done something very wrong, but she did not know just what was so wicked about taking a small branch from a maple tree.
“I didn’t know it was stealing,” she sobbed.
“It isn’t that, Clematis. It is not wrong to take a twig, but think of the danger. Don’t you know you might have fallen and killed yourself?”
Clematis wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” she said, “I had hold of the blind all the time. I couldn’t fall.”
“Now, Clematis, no child ever did such a thing before, and you must never, never, do it again. Do you understand?”