“Vastly well!” said Bell’s mother; “I am waiting to see how long you will have the assurance to stand there with that innocent look. Did you ever see that basket before?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the girl.
“Yes, Ma’am!” cried the maid; “and what else do you know about it? You had better confess it at once, and mistress, perhaps, will say no more about it.”
“Yes, do confess it,” added Bell, earnestly.
“Confess what, madam?” said the little girl; “I never touched the basket, madam.”
“You never touched it; but you confess,” interrupted Bell’s mother, “that you did see it before. And, pray, how came you to see it? You must have opened my wardrobe.”
“No, indeed, ma’am,” said the little girl; “but I was waiting in the passage, ma’am, and this door was partly open; and looking at the maid, you know, I could not help seeing it.”
“Why, how could you see through the doors of my wardrobe?” rejoined the lady.
The maid, frightened, pulled the little girl by the sleeve.
“Answer me,” said the lady, “where did you see this basket?” Another stronger pull.