“What shall I buy?” she thought.
Just then she noticed a cute little china cat. She picked it up. “That’s certainly cute,” she thought, “but not very useful,” so she put it down and picked up a little stuffed dog. “Neither is that,” she concluded and put it down.
“Do you wish anything?” asked the saleslady politely.
“No, thank you,” replied Tiny.
She picked up several funny little images, and was so much interested that she did not notice that any one was near until she heard a voice, a man’s voice, speaking to the saleslady in an undertone: “I’ve been watching that child for some time, Miss Sellum; please keep an eye on her.”
“Oh, I don’t think she’d take anything, Mr. Knockem,” replied the girl.
Tiny looked around. No one was in sight except the pretty saleslady and a tall, haughty-looking man.
“I wonder who they mean?” thought Tiny. “Oh, they must mean me because I touched those things,” and she burst into tears.
“I never stole anything in my life—not a single—thing—ever,” she sobbed. “I’m Mrs. Bountiful’s—little—girl——”
“Mercy!” exclaimed Miss Sellum.