Etty hid her face and cried bitterly but silently, as she remembered all her unkind speeches to Stella. She was put to bed in her own room, and left alone for what seemed an age. At last Mrs. Grey came in and sat down by her bed.
"Oh, aunt, how is Stella?" exclaimed Etty, starting up.
"She is better," replied her aunt. "The doctor hopes she will live. You ought to be very thankful." Mrs. Grey paused a little and then said: "Etty, what has been the matter to-day? What has made you behave so badly?"
"I don't know, aunt," replied Etty. "It has been one of my bad days."
"What do you suppose makes you have bad days, Etty?"
"I don't know, aunt," repeated Etty. "I can't help them."
"Are you sure of that, Etty? I am not so, by any means."
Etty looked surprised.
"Let us go over the day's history and see if it could not be helped. What was the first trouble?"
"Being late for breakfast, aunt—no, breaking the cologne bottle was the first trouble."