"But I ought to ask him, if I want him to forgive me," said Bessie. "When we say 'Our Father in heaven,' we say 'Forgive us our sins as we forgive those that sin against us.' I think Miss Adams sinned against me a little bit; don't you, Maggie?"
"No, I don't," said Maggie. "No little bit about it. I think she sinned against you a great bit,—as much as the whole ocean."
"Then if I want Jesus to forgive me, I ought to forgive her, and to ask him to forgive her too. I think I ought. I'm going to ask mamma to-night."
"I sha'n't do it, I know," said Maggie. "I wish I was as tall as she is; no,—as tall as papa or Colonel Rush, and oh! wouldn't she get it then!"
"What would you do?" asked Bessie.
"I don't know,—something. Oh, yes! don't you know the pictures of Bluebeard's wives, where they're all hanging up by their hair? I'd just hang her up that way, and then her hair would be nicely pulled. And I'd get the boys to come and poke her with sticks." Maggie said this, shaking her head with a very determined look.
The idea of Miss Adams hanging up by her hair made Bessie laugh; but in a moment she looked grave again. "I don't believe that's yight, Maggie," she said.
"I don't care," said Maggie. "I'm going to say it."
Just then James came back, and they forgot Miss Adams for a while. He brought a nice plate of toast and some butter. Grandmamma spread two pieces of toast and laid them on the little plates, and then went back again to the famous cupboard and brought out—oh, delicious!—a box of guava jelly. She put a spoonful on each plate, and gave them to the children. "Now, remember," she said, "the jelly goes with the toast."
Bessie looked rather doubtfully at her toast. "Grandmamma, I don't feel very hungry."