"Yes, uncle."
And being further questioned, I told him what I had seen from my window the night before. The laundry-woman testified to seeing red flowers fall, and Sambo pick them up, but she had not understood the matter. She thought they were roses.
"It skills not talking further, Master Corbet," said the whitesmith, raising his eyes and speaking in a modest, manly sort of way. "It is true that I had these same red flowers in my breast, and dropped them, but I saw not the blackamoor pick them up."
"But how came you by them—that is the question," said my uncle. "There is not their like in London, as I well know. I beg of you, Stillman, to tell me the whole truth, and you will see my reason for it when I tell you that this young lady, my niece, hath been accused of wantonly destroying them, on the witness of Betty Davis, who declares that she saw Mistress Loveday Corbet about to break them off and stopped her, and afterward watched her bury something in her own garden-bed, where she, Betty, professed to find one of the flowers."
"I only said," Betty began; but her grandam stopped her with a clutch at her arm and a muttered "Be quiet, wench; you will but make matters worse."
Teddy Stillman cast upon his sweetheart a look of grief, which must have touched her heart if she had any, and then turned to my uncle.
"I must needs speak, since it is to clear the innocent," said he. "Betty gave me these flowers yesterday with her own hand, at the back gate, when I came to put up the branches for the lights. She said the cat had broken down the plant, and her mistress said she might have them. So I took them, thinking no evil, as she hath often given me flowers and posies of rosemary and lavender, which she said her mistress had given her."
"So that is what became of my lavender buds," said my aunt, who was great in distilling and compounding of herbs, and worshiped her lavender beds as if they had been the shrines of saints.
My uncle dismissed Teddy, with thanks and commendation for his frankness, but I noticed he did not offer him any money. The poor lad made his obeisance, and passed out without so much as looking at his sweetheart. Then my uncle, in presence of the whole family, declared his belief in my entire innocence of what had been charged to me, and, turning to me, he asked my pardon, saying he had been too ready to condemn me on the evidence of one who had proved herself a thief and a liar. This concession on my uncle's part dissolved in a moment all the remains of my stubbornness.
"No, no, uncle!" I cried, dropping on my knees. "It was I that was wicked and obstinate, and I am sorry; and I begged aunt's pardon before. Please forgive me, uncle, and I will not be pert any more."