So that it was after tea before Zada sought Dorothy again, with the avowed intention of “confessing the terrible thing that was on her mind.”
She was indeed tired out, and when Dorothy insisted that she take the best chair, and rest back, Zada sighed and did as she had been invited to do.
“Dorothy,” began Zada, “when I did it, I never knew what trouble it meant, but I stole your picture!”
“Stole my picture! The one that was in the paper?”
“Yes,” and Zada gasped in relief, as if a terrible thing, indeed, had been lifted off her mind. “I was asked to do it. It was part of our club plan—the old club,” and she bit her lips at the memory. “I promised never to tell who asked me, or how I was asked, and I don’t feel yet I should tell. But when I found out all the trouble it made for you——”
She stopped, and Dorothy looked horrified. That this little harmless child could have been the one to steal into her room, and get that picture from Tavia’s dresser!
“Can you ever forgive me, Dorothy?” pleaded the girl.
“I am sure,” said Dorothy with hesitation, “you could never have realized what it would mean.”
“I thought it was one of the club jokes. I never had an idea it was to go to that horrible paper. Oh dear! What I have suffered! I wanted to tell Mrs. Pangborn, but she is such a friend to mamma——” and the girl sobbed beyond words.
“She need not know it,” said Dorothy. “Neither need anyone else. It was I who was affected, and now I am willing to let it rest, as it has rested.”