"Please, aunt, may I go and see what ails Etty?" said Stella. She was Etty's younger sister, but as she slept with Eleanor, she had not seen Etty that morning.
"No, my dear, I will go myself," said Mrs. Grey.
Stella said no more, but she looked very uncomfortable, not to say distressed.
"You need not look so unhappy, my dear Stella," said Eleanor. "You don't think mamma will be unkind to Etty, do you?"
"No," said Stella, "aunt is never unkind to any one; but Etty does go on so when she gets one of her bad days. Aunt is not used to her, and I am afraid she will be very much displeased."
When Mrs. Grey went up-stairs, she found Etty still lying on the floor, crying and sobbing.
"What is the matter now?" asked Mrs. Grey. "Why are you not ready for breakfast?"
"O dear, I wish I was dead! I wish I was dead!" sobbed Etty.
"Etty, if I ever hear you say that again, I shall punish you!" said Mrs. Grey. "Stop crying directly, and tell me what all this is about. How came this bottle broken, and the mirror, too? And here is the cologne running all over the bureau. What have you been about?"
"It is all Eleanor's fault," sobbed Etty, getting up from the floor. "She came in here to dress, and she has put all my things out of place so that I cannot find anything; and looking for my hair ribbon, I knocked down the bottle and broke it and—" Etty was going to wish herself dead again, but she stopped just in time.