"Child, what is amiss?"
It was her Aunt Mary's voice, and her Aunt Mary's arms that lifted her from the ground.
"What is troubling you, my dear?" Miss Holcroft asked tenderly, as Marigold flung herself crying bitterly upon her breast.
Then the whole story came out. The old lady listened with troubled eyes, and a little glow of indignation rose to her face as Marigold said—"Muriel told the girls that the reason why you and Aunt Pamela would have nothing to do with mother was because she had been a servant!"
Marigold did not spare herself. She confessed she would have struck Muriel but for the timely intervention of the elder girl.
"I know it was very wicked," she sobbed, "and mother would be so grieved to know how I lost my temper; but indeed, Aunt Mary, I am sorry!"
"You certainly had cause for indignation," Miss Holcroft allowed, "but temper always does harm. There is such a thing as just wrath, but that was not your feeling, I conclude, Marigold, for from what you have told me I imagine you lost entire control of yourself, and did not know what you were doing. If you had reflected for a moment, I feel sure you would not have thought of striking that girl, badly as she had treated you."
"No, indeed, Aunt Mary!"
"You see to what lengths an unbridled temper will lead one. I had no idea you were so passionate."
"I had no idea of it, myself," Marigold said dolefully.