And Bessie was as unwilling as any little girl could be to draw upon herself the ill-will of her schoolmates. She wanted to be loved by all about her; and, as you know, was an affectionate, clinging child, accustomed to be petted and treated with all tenderness. So her little heart had been very downcast at the thought of the cold looks and words, and unkind behaviour, which she feared would fall to her share if she should feel herself obliged to tell what she knew; and she was very grateful to Mrs. Ashton for sparing her from this.
The lady paused again, to give any one who chose to speak the opportunity to do so; but all were silent.
"I shall put the question to each of you in turn," said Mrs. Ashton, "trusting that none of you are so hardened as to tell a deliberate falsehood, however you may have reconciled your consciences to a deceitful silence. Ella Leroy, did you break the clock, or have you any knowledge of how it was done?"
Mrs. Ashton's manner was stern, and her tone severe, as they were apt to be when she was displeased; and all of the little girls felt thankful that they were not to be questioned. Maggie thought she could not possibly have answered as much as "No;" and it frightened her even to hear Mrs. Ashton's voice.
But Ella Leroy answered promptly,—
"No, ma'am."
"Bertha Stockton, do you?"
"No, ma'am."
"Mary Merton, do you?"
"No, ma'am," came, with equal readiness, from Mary's lips.