She raised her eyes to the window, where stood her pot, and there, to her amazement, she saw a tender little leaf pushing through the dark soil. It was not dead then! Quick as thought she jumped up, seized the pot, and flew down to the arbour.
'My plant is coming up, and you must have it, Ethel, because I am so very sorry I broke yours,' she said eagerly. 'Take it, do, and say you forgive me.'
"May turned away, feeling ashamed and miserable."
'Oh, May, you could not help it,' said Ethel, drying her eyes, and trying to smile, 'and I won't take your plant. I am very glad it is coming up.'
'You must have it,' said May firmly. 'I shall never like it unless it is yours; it will always remind me of a horrid day,' ended up May, somewhat lamely, for she could not say how guilty she felt in the matter.
So Ethel had the plant, and nursed it so well that in days to come it really did produce a small orange, and this time May was the first to rejoice with her sister.