“No, mother,” she answered, shaking her head. “I took them out of the barrel.”
“You did!” exclaimed her mother. “Why, my dear, did you not know that was wrong?”
“I didn’t take many—only seven,” Helen said; “and Mr. Dingle had thousands and thousands of them!”
“Come here, dear, and sit on my knee,” said her mother. “I want to ask you something.”
When Helen came she asked, “When you took the cranberries, was Mr. Dingle looking toward you?”
“No, he was busy,” answered Helen.
“Would you have taken them if he had been looking at you?”
Helen hung her head.
“I do not think you would, dear,” said her mother. “Of course, you did not think for a moment of stealing from Mr. Dingle.”
“I will never do such a thing again, mother,” promised the little girl. “I am sorry.”