"Oh, no; she's too careful for that. She never makes mistakes," said Luella, positively. "I only wish we'd minded. That's all."
Francis echoed the wish in his heart, though he did not repeat it aloud. Thus, a repentant couple, they entered the house and the study. Mother was upstairs attending to baby, and father was evidently out. The brother and sister awaited his return in silence, Luella meanwhile grasping the letter, and Francis the single coin.
"What's that you have?" asked Mr. Robinson; "a letter? How did it get out of the bag?"
"It's ours," answered Luella, trembling while she spoke. "We—we—we—" then she burst into tears.
"Let me have it," commanded Mr. Robinson.
Luella obeyed, and went on weeping while her father read. Francis wanted to cry, too, but he thought it was unmanly, and choked back the tears.
"I need ask you no more questions," said their father. "The truth is that I was calling on old Mrs. Brown when you stopped under the apple tree, and I saw the whole thing from her window. You don't know how sorry I felt when I found that my boy and girl couldn't be trusted. I saw that you had lost something, and after you had left I examined the grass about the stone and found the other gold piece. But I shall have to punish you by putting the money away for a whole month. At the end of that time I will return it to you, if I find that you are obedient meanwhile. I do not intend to be severe, but I think that ordinarily you are good children, and I understand how strong the temptation was. Are you not sorry that you yielded to it?"
"Yes, sir, we are," exclaimed both children, emphatically.
"And now, what am I going to do about the mail-bag? Can I let you have it after this?"
"Yes, father, you can," they both replied once more; and after that they were always worthy of their trust.