ey had a horrid time. The woman's daughters had to go into court and
be examined as witnesses. Oh, it was horrid; and the worst of it was
that even though there was some truth in the stories, there were things
that were not true,--exaggerations, you know,--and so the woman was
declared guilty, and her husband had to pay a lot of money to keep her
out of prison. There was ever so much more that I've forgotten; but I
recollect papa's turning to us children at the end, and saying, 'Now,
children, remember when you are repeating things that you have heard
against people, that the next thing you'll know you may be prosecuted
for what you've said, and have to answer for it in the law courts.'"

Dora looked scared. "Well, I'm sure," she began, "I haven't repeated
this to anybody but you; and if Agnes--"

"What's that about me?" suddenly interrupted Agnes herself, as she came
up behind the two girls. Dora began to explain, and then called upon
Tilly to repeat her story of the lawsuit.

"Oh, fiddlesticks!" cried Agnes, angrily, after hearing this story; "you
can't frighten me that way, Tilly Morris. We can't be prosecuted for
telling facts that are already in the newspapers."

"But we can be for what isn't. It isn't in the newspapers that this Mrs.
Smith and her niece are these Smithsons."

"Well, Tilly Morris, I should think it was in the newspapers about as
plain as could be. What do you say to this sentence?" And Agnes pulled
from her pocket the Smithson article she had cut out, and read aloud:
"'An older child--a daughter of fourteen or fifteen--was left behind in
this country with Smithson's brother's widow, who has also taken the
name of Smith. They are staying at a summer resort not far from Boston;'
and what do you say to that letter addressed to some place in South
America?"

"I say that--that--all this might mean somebody else, and not--not
these--our--my Smiths. What did your mother say when you told her, and
showed the paper to her?"

"I didn't tell her; I didn't show her the paper. We never tell mamma
such things; she is a nervous invalid, and it would fret her to death,"
Agnes responded snappishly.

"Well, I don't believe it's my Smiths; I believe it's somebody else,"
flashed back Tilly, with tears in her eyes and in her voice.

"Oh, very well; you can stand up for your Smiths, if you like; but
you'll find they are--"

"Hullo! What's the little Smith girl done now? Agnes, I should think
you'd get tired