ound a friend of hers with her,
and I heard my mistress whisper, "This is my dear little orphan
girl." She called me to her, and took me up in her lap. "Well,
honest little Sue," said she, "why don't you look up in my face, as
you know you always do?"

This was too much for me; I burst into tears, and put my hands over
my face.

"What's the matter, Susan?" said she.

As soon as I could speak, I said, "I did open the knife; I was
wicked when you thought I was good, for I did not tell the truth; I
opened and shut all the blades, and I cut a notch on my nail with
one, and then I did not tell you of it when you asked who opened
it." When I had got it all out, I felt better; it seemed as if a
great load was taken off of my heart.

In a few minutes, my kind friend said to me, "I am sorry you did
wrong, Susan; but I am very glad to see that you have a tender
conscience, and that it has made you come and confess your faults; I
am very glad that you are so sorry; it is a bad sign when children
think they are happy, after they have done wrong. I trust, my dear
Susan, that you have suffered so much, that you will never commit
such a fault again; it was only foolish and disobedient to take up
my knife, but it was very wrong not to tell me, when I asked who did
it, and let me punish so many girls for your offence."

I saw that she thought I was the only one that had touched the
knife, and believed me worse than I was; and then I felt what a
difference there was between a good and an evil conscience; for it
did not trouble me half so much that she thought me worse than I
really was, as to see that she thought me better.

Then she said, "You must, Susan, confess before the whole school
that it was you that took my knife."

While she was speaking, the girls came in. I had cried so much that
I could hardly speak; and my good friend said that, as I was a
little girl, she would speak for me.

As soon as she said that I had confessed that it was I that took the
knife, almost every girl in the school cried out, "It was not little
Susan, it was I!" "It was not Sue, it was I!" was heard all round
the room. This made me feel bold enough to speak, and I said,

"Yes, I did take it up when you were all out on the play ground; I
opened and shut all the blades, and cut a little notch on my nail."

"And so did I!" "And so did I!" was heard from a number of voices.
"And we took it up first," said all the girls.

When there was silence,