"You was real good to give me them things," said Dolly; "they was first rate. And you was good to get Lem let out too; he told me. But I say,"—and Dolly really looked half ashamed,—"'twant him did that."
Bessie thought she was speaking of the cup.
"I don't believe very much that he did," she said. "Mr. Porter thinks maybe the pedler-man took it, 'cause he went to Farmer Todd's house, and after he was gone some spoons were lost; and they think he stole them, so maybe he has my cup too."
"I didn't mean that," answered Dolly, slowly. "I meant 'twant Lem spiled your gardens, but—I am sorry I done it—there now. And Lem aint got your cup; you can just know it."
"We try to believe he didn't," said Bessie. Then she added, with a quiver of her lip and a tear or two gathering in her eyes, "I don't think any one could have taken it if they had known how very fond I was of it. You see, Dolly, I had that cup a great, great many years, ever since I was a little baby; and I always had my drink out of it, so you see we grew up together, and I don't know how I can bear never to see it again. I was pretty much troubled to lose my cup and my garden too."
Dolly looked uneasily at her, moved restlessly on her hard bed, and sank back again with another moan.
"I guess we'll have to go now," said Maggie.
"Will you come next Sunday and hear Mrs. Rush tell about Jesus and how he loved you?" said Bessie. "Or papa and mamma would tell you about it if you liked. They can do it a great deal better than we can."
"No," said Dolly, "I don't want to hear big folks. I don't mind your speaking to me if you choose. But, I say, don't you never sing but on Sundays?"
"Oh, yes!" said Bessie, "we sing every day and sometimes a good many times in the day."