"But I read in a hymn that God sets down everything we do wrong in a book; and at the judgment day He will read it all out to the assembled universe. I told a lie once."
"Did you?" said I, tenderly. "Tell me all about how you came to." "I cannot," said she, "because then I should have to tell something bad about somebody else, which I must not." "How long ago was it?" "It was when we were living at ——." I saw by this that it was several years before.
She had a little brother, of whom she was very fond. I took hold of a locket that she wore about her neck, that contained the hair of the lady for whom she was named, and the memory of whose great virtues had been impressed on her imagination, and said:—
"What if Edward should take this locket and break it, and take out the hair and throw it in the fire?" With a great deal of energy she said:—
"He never would do such a naughty thing."
"He might do it without being naughty; he would not know that you never could get any more of Miss ——'s hair; and he would do it from innocent curiosity—and what if he should do it, what would you do?"
"Why, I should tell him he was a very naughty boy, meddling with other people's things, and that he had done something that he could never make up, for there was no more of that hair."
"Well," said I, "and I suppose you would say that, very likely crying, and if he seeing that he had given you such pain, should begin to cry, and should cry all the rest of the day, and cry himself to sleep, and when he waked in the morning should begin to cry again, and should cry all day for weeks—what would you do?"
"Why, I should tell him I was sorry to lose my locket, but I could bear it, and he must forget about it, for he did not know what a mischief he was doing, and I should take him out to walk, and amuse him, and do everything to make him forget it."
"Why should you do all this?"