This choice box was handed round among the company with great care. But it happened that it was a long time getting to that part of the room where Lillia stood. She was very impatient to look at it. When it came near to her, she tried to snatch it out of the hand of a little girl, who was passing it to Fanny. Her effort was a rough one. She struck the box with her hand, and down it went upon the floor, smashing the bottles and breaking the looking glass in its fall.
"O Lillia, see what you've done!" exclaimed Fanny.
"How could you do so, Lillia?" said several voices at once.
"Poor Minnie! I'm sorry her box is broken," observed a good-natured aunt.
These and similar remarks passed from lip to lip after this accident. As for Lillia, she was ashamed and frightened at what she had done; and she stood gazing on the wreck of Minnie's box, pale and tearful.
Minnie was grieved. A tear swam in her eye at first; but she remembered the little tree, and restrained herself. She saw how bad Lillia felt, and thought she would not add to her grief by seeming to feel too much herself. So, taking the box, she said, in a cheerful voice,—
"Never mind! The box is not broken; only the bottles and the glass. Pa will get some new ones to fit it, and it will be as good as before. Never mind! Lillia did not mean to do it."
That night, when the party broke up, Minnie kissed Lillia, and whispered in her ear,—