"She is, ma'am. Maybe you don't know it, but she is a burglar. I saw her burgle three pears out of your dish; and she put her fingers in the dish too, and then licked every one of them."
The emphatic tone of disgust in which these last words were uttered, and the expression of the child's face, told that the uncleanliness of the trick, as well as its sinfulness, had gone far to horrify her.
The whole thing—look, tone, and words—was irresistible. All discipline was at an end; and Mrs. Ashton herself could not help joining in the merry laugh that was raised by the class.
Bessie would have been angry again; but the thought of her late passion, its sad consequences, and her present repentance, kept her temper in check, and she stood silent. Mrs. Ashton recollected herself, and raised a warning finger to the amused line of girls before her, as she saw Bessie's disturbed face; and, drawing the child to her, she kissed the grieved lips, and said kindly,—
"I am sorry Marcia did such a naughty thing, Bessie; but she has not been as well taught as some of us, and we all do wrong sometimes, and need forgiveness from one another as well as from God."
"Yes, ma'am," answered Bessie meekly, "and I was very naughty to be so angry. Please to 'scuse me, and I'll try not to be cross to Marcia again. And I'm very sorry about your flower."
"I shall not care about my flower if it serves to teach you a lesson," said the lady. "That is quite forgiven; and you need not distress yourself over it. Now you may go."
Bessie drew Mrs. Ashton's head down to her.
"And may I go and tell Marcia I am sorry I was so angry with her?" she whispered.
"Certainly," said Mrs. Ashton; and Bessie went away.