“Nothing very wrong,” answered old Nana, cautiously; “leastways, Miss Bess is not ill, but she seems out of sorts and won’t say her prayers to-night, and will keep throwing herself about, till I think she’s bound to fall out of bed. I have asked her what’s the matter, but she’s as secret as a state door. She and Master Harry have been up to some tricks, I’ll be bound, for I don’t hold to children playin’ by themselves, as if they were nothing but lambkins in a meadow. You can’t tell what they won’t be up to, but this you may be sure of, to childers left by themselves, mischief is natural sport.” And old Nana glared, and made me feel very small.
“No great harm done this time,” I said, and went upstairs.
“What’s the matter, little girl?” I asked. I took a little hot, feverish hand and pressed her to tell me why she would not say her prayers.
At first Bess was sullen—turned her head away, and would not speak; but she could not resist my kiss, and at last confession bubbled up to her lips.
A LITTLE MAID’S CONFESSION
“Mama,” she exclaimed vehemently, “I have been wicked, very wicked—wicked as an ogre or a she-dragon. Can you love me really and truly when you know what I’ve done—really love me again?”
“I am sure I can,” I answered, “only tell me. When I know, I can help you.”
Bess buried her head against my shoulder, and then rambled on rather incoherently—
“Do you remember what I told you about Hals’ birthday—how there wasn’t a conjurer but a white dog, and how, after the tricks were done, Miss Jordan read us stories and told us poems? Well, there was one bit of poetry that I wish I had never heard, nor Hals either, and that was Sister Helen, because it has made me very wicked. It has made me think of how I could pay out Fräulein. We both hate her, she does nothing but punish; not punish you to make you good, but to make you horrid. Hals catches it for not washing his hands, for not brushing his hair, for not putting on his coat, for losing his blotting-paper, for dropping his pencil. Everything means a punishment with Fräulein. She pounces on him like a cat, and she has him everywhere.” Then, after a pause, Bess began again. “Hals and I thought we would punish her, too—once and for all.”
“Yes, Bess,” I inquired; “but what did you do?”