"Bless me! where is the child!" I exclaimed.
"When you began to soar into the realms of melodrama and forget the garden you had asked her to show you, she sensibly tried to amuse herself. She is in the strawberry-bed, Mrs. Yocomb."
"Yes," I said, "I admit that I forgot the garden; I had good reason to do so."
"I think it is time we left the garden. You must remember that Mrs.
Yocomb and I are not night editors, and cannot see in the dark."
"Mother," cried Zillah, coming forward, "see what I have found;" and her little hands were full of ripe strawberries. "If it wasn't getting so dark I could have found more, I'm sure," she added,
"What, giving them all to me?" Miss Warren exclaimed, as Zillah held out her hands to her favorite. "Wouldn't it be nicer if we all had some?"
"Who held you up to look into the robin's nest?" I asked reproachfully.
"Thee may give Richard Morton my share," said the little girl, trying to make amends.
I held out my hand, and Miss Warren gave me half of them.
"Now these are mine?" I said to Zillah. "Yes!"