"Because I have to make trouble for you, ma'am," said the poor little thing.
"That is just what I do not wish you to do. If you have anything to say, you may tell me by and by."
"I'll have to tell you now, or you might think somebody else did it," said Bessie; and, as she spoke, she drew her hand from behind her, and showed the broken flower. "I'm very sorry, ma'am, but I broke your flower."
Mrs. Ashton's pale face flushed angrily, then grew calm again.
"How did that happen, Bessie? Did I not tell you not to touch the flowers?"
"Yes, ma'am," answered the child, the tears beginning to run slowly down her cheeks; "and I didn't mean to touch them, and I didn't go on the other side of the bench. It was with my legging—I don't quite know how; but it was 'cause I was naughty. I was mad with Marcia, and was going to throw my legging at her; and somehow it knocked the flower and broke it. But I know I did it; and I thought I ought to tell you very quick, or you might think it was Marcia, or some one else."
"I am glad you are so honest, Bessie," said Mrs. Ashton. "Put the flower down, and I will talk to you about it by and by."
Bessie laid the japonica on the table, and turned to go, then turned back again.
"Ma'am," she said, "if you are going to scold me, would you have objections to do it now? I guess the young ladies would just as lief wait, and I don't like to think about it so long."
The young ladies had all been listening to the child, and feeling great sympathy for her in her trouble; while they could not help admiring her straightforward truthfulness and generous fear lest another should be blamed for her fault; but at this speech every book in the class went up before the owner's face to hide the smiles which could not be repressed. Even the corners of Mrs. Ashton's grave mouth gave way a little.