"I spoiled a flower this afternoon, and mother scolded me and shook me for it. She told me to be very careful with this milk, and now I have spilled the whole of it."
"Well, if you feel so bad, why need you tell her any thing about it?"
"About what?" asked Kate, looking up into his face, for she did not quite understand him.
"You needn't tell her you spilled the milk. She will never find it out."
"But she will ask me."
"What if she does? Can't you tell her you gave the milk to the old woman, and that she was very much obliged to her for sending it?"
"I can do that," said Kate.
She did not like the plan, but it seemed to her just then that any thing would be better than telling her mother that she had spilled the milk; and, wicked as it was, she resolved to do it.
Crying for Spilled Milk.