"Mamma would forgive any thing, if she thought you were truly sorry," said her brother.
"I'm sure I am," answered the little girl. "If she could see in my heart, she would know it very well."
"You can show her what is in your heart, dear, by letting her see that you are really trying to break yourself of the troublesome fault which has led you to behave so to her."
Lily threw her arms around her brother's neck, and kissed him; the next moment she was gone in search of her mamma. When she reached her, she could find no words, none but a piteous "O mamma!" But her voice and her face spoke for her; and in another moment she was clinging fast around her mother's neck, her dear, kind arms about her, her kiss of forgiveness on the little head which buried itself in shame and contrition upon her shoulder.
But, though Lily was forgiven, she could not recover her spirits all that day, a thing very unusual with her; but then, as she said, she had "never been so wickedly naughty before," and she felt as if she could not do enough to make up to her mother for her offence.
She was rather droll, too, as she was apt to be, when by any means she fell into low spirits.
When her papa came home, she did not go to meet him with her usual light and dancing step; and he missed that, and the joyous face with which she was accustomed to greet him.
"Why," he said, "what ails my little sunbeam to-day?" for Mr. Norris had heard of Belle's idea about the sunbeams in the family, and he delighted to call his Lily so.
"I'm not a sunbeam to-day, papa," said Lily.