t
announcement.

Elizabeth would have sent her to bed supperless, and approved of a
severer punishment.

Miss Winn asked some questions about Boston.

"I have quite a desire to see it," she added.

Yes, she would no doubt plan for a removal. Then the child would be
forever lost. And a Leverett, too, come of a strong God-fearing family!

The child, when she had hidden her face on Rachel's bosom, gave some
dry, hard sobs that shook her small frame. Rachel smoothed her hair,
patted the shoulder softly, and said "Dear" in a caressing tone. Then
had come a torrent of tears, a wild hysterical weeping. She did not
attempt to check it, but took Cynthia in her arms as if she had been a
baby.

"I'm not going to that school any more," she said brokenly, after a
while.

"What happened, dear?"

Cynthia raised her head. "It was very mean, as if I had done it on
purpose! Why, I might have hurt myself;" indignantly.

"How was it?" gently.

And then the story came tumbling out. She saw a certain ludicrous aspect
in it now, and laughed a little herself. "I couldn't help being saucy.
And I thought she was going to strike me. Tommy Marsh began to laugh
first. The slate broke----"

"Are you quite sure you were not hurt?"

"Well, my arm hurt a little at first, but it is all well now. But I
shan't go back to school,--no, not even to please Cousin Leverett, and I
like him best of any one."

"I'm going down to supper, dear. Shall I bring up yours?"

"I don't want any. I couldn't eat anything. And I can't have Cousin
Elizabeth's sharp eyes looking at me. Oh, I'm glad I am not her little
girl! I like you a million times better, Rachel;" hugging her
rapturously. "I think I'd like to have a glass of milk. And may I lie on
your little bed?"

"Yes, dear."

She was asleep when Rachel came up and it was past nine when she woke,
drank her milk, and went to bed for the night.

How gaily the birds were singing the next morning, and the sunbeams were
playing hide-and-seek through the branches that dance in the soft wind.
All the air was sweet and the little girl couldn't help being
light-hearted. She sang, too; not measured hymns of sorrow and
repentance, but a gay lilt that followed the bird voices. And she went
down to breakfast and said her good-morning cheerfully.

"That child has the assurance of the Evil One," Elizabeth thought.

Cynthia waylaid Cousin Chilian as he was going down the path.

"I meant what I said yesterday.