"Mamie," said Mrs. Bradford, "you don't look like the happy little girl who left us a short time ago."
Mamie stopped screaming, and held out one hand to Mrs. Bradford, but Martha kept fast hold of the other, and tried to make her come away.
"Let her come to me, Martha," said the lady; "I want to speak to her."
Martha looked sulky, but she let go of Mamie, and walked away muttering. Mrs. Bradford sat down on the rock and took Mamie on her lap.
"Now, Mamie, what is the matter?" she asked, kindly. "I thought I should find you so pleasant and happy."
"My nose is broken," sobbed Mamie, "and oh, dear! my papa and mamma don't love me any more. I would not care if my nose was broken, if they only loved me."
"They do love you just as much as they ever did," said Mrs. Bradford, "and your nose is not broken. How should it come to be broken?"
"There's an ugly baby in mamma's room," said Mamie. "The bad little thing did it."