"You were away more than a minute, Miss Louisa," said the housemaid, "for I came out here twice and did not see you. I supposed you had taken Milly up-stairs."
"I went to the summer-house for my wool," said Louisa. "I did not mean to be gone more than a minute."
"But you were gone all of half an hour," said the housemaid.
"Surely it did not take all that time to find your worsted!" said Cousin Frances.
"I took up a book just a minute," said Louisa, reluctantly.
"O yes, there it is!" said Cousin Frances. "But I cannot stop to talk now. I must go and find Milly. I might have known better than to trust your word, Louisa, but I was led to think you had improved."
After a long search, Milly was found where we left her. She had been sitting on the damp grass for about an hour, with her shoes and stockings wringing wet. She told her story very artlessly of how Cousin Louisa did not come back, and she got tired of waiting, "and then the rabbit ran away, and I ran after him, and when I caught him, I was tired and sat down to rest. I did not mean to be naughty, mamma," said the little girl, with a grieved face. "Mamma did not tell Milly not to run after the rabbit."
"No, my darling," said Cousin Frances. "If I had told you, you would have minded me. Louisa, did you not promise me not to leave the child?"
For once Louisa had nothing to say for herself, and did not try, even in her own mind, to excuse her conduct.
Milly was undressed directly, but before she could be put into bed, she complained of being very cold, and was presently attacked with a severe chill and pains in her head and chest. Before night, it became plain that Milly had inflammation of the lungs, and the next day her life was despaired of.