The tears came now, and Norman did not so much mind, as he expected. He was full of sympathy with his little cousin, but he did not see how to help her.
"I s'pose there's some way out of it," he said, consideringly, "there generally is—"
Again Bertha shook her head.
"What did you do to-day?" he asked, by way of suggesting a remedy.
Bertha brushed away her tears with her hand.
"Well," she said, "I was busy in the breakfast-room, making those toilet mats for the missionaries, and the room was rather—"
"Snippy," suggested Norman.
"Yes—well, it was no harm; it was Saturday, and I was free to do it. And I wanted to finish a set, because I thought if Aunt Helen came this afternoon, I would get her to buy them—for the missionaries, you know. But Aunt Esther said she could not have such a mess all over the place, and began gathering my things together, and I felt cross, and begged her to wait and let me put them up; and she went on, and my bottle of gum got spilled between us, and went over the pink satin, and spoilt ever such a lot."
"What a shame," said the boy, flushing.
"Yes, it was; but, oh, I flew in such a passion. I stamped about the room, and said all the nasty things I could think of; and when I hadn't any more words left, she just said, coldly, 'That is what you call working for Christ, do you? You will not show your things to Aunt Helen this afternoon, Bertha,' and left the room."