"I'm doing penance!" announced Margery in solemn tones. "I should stand at the church-door and proclaim my sins, but mother won't let me."
"Your sins?" said Mallow, suppressing a strong desire to laugh; "have you any?"
"Dozens! I have sinned deeply," sighed this guilty little person. "I have been cross, I have stolen, I have perverted the truth. Would you like to hear about any particular sin, Mr. Mallow?"
"I should be delighted, Margery. Only don't shock me too much."
Margery waved her taper. "This sin was done to Olive!" she chanted. "Listen, oh people, to the sin done to Olive! I gave her a golden ornament of fine gold with wrought-work. She asked where I obtained it. I declared that I had taken it from the desk of my father. That was a lie. That was a sin. I did steal it. Wicked woman that I am--but I stole it from the study of Mr. Brock."
"Margery!" Mallow jumped with sudden interest. "Did you find that wrist-button in Mr. Brock's study?"
Margery dropped her candle and became the child she was, even to the length of bursting into tears.
"Yes," she sobbed, "I was wicked. I went to see Mr. Brock; he left me to play in his study, and I found the button in the drawer of his writing-table. I--I--I took it."