ittle, and she glanced round the enclosure, more in
condescension than hope, surveying the boughs of the lilacs, drooping
with their weight of purple blossoms, and peering at the gossamer's web.
Louis, in the meantime, turned towards the stream, now partially
enveloped in the dusky shade of twilight, but there was one spot
sparkling with the rosy light of sunset, and resting snugly 'mid the
pebbles at the bottom, he spied a large, dingy ball.
"Ah! what's this big toad-stool, rising up in the water?" said he,
seizing a pole that lay under the bridge, and sticking the end in the
ball. "Why this looks as if it had been thread, Miss Thusa, but I don't
know what you will call it now?"
Miss Thusa snatched the dripping ball from the pole that bent beneath
its weight, turned it round several times, bringing it nearer and nearer
to her eyes at each revolution, then raised it above her head, as if
about to dash it on the ground; but suddenly changing her resolution,
she tightened her grasp, and strode into the path leading to the house.
"I know all about it now," she cried, "I heard the children romping and
trampling round the house like a drove of wild colts, with Mittie at
their head; it is she that has done it, and if I don't punish her, it
will be because the Lord Almighty does it for me."
Even Louis could scarcely keep up with her rapid strides. He trembled
for the consequences of her anger, just as it was, and followed close to
see if Mittie, undaunted as she was, did not shrivel in her gaze.
Mittie was seated in a window, busily studying, or pretending to study,
not even turning her head, though Miss Thusa's steps resounded as if she
were shod with iron.
"Look round, Miss, if you please, and tell me if you know any thing of
this," cried Miss Thusa, laying her left hand on her shoulder, and
bringing the ball so close to her face that her nose came in contact
with it.
Mittie jerked away from the hand laid upon her with no velvet pressure,
without opening her lips, but the guilty blood rising to her face spoke
eloquently; though she had a kind of Procrustes bed of her own,
according to which she stretched or curtailed the truth, she had not the
hardihood to tell an unmitigated falsehood, in the presence of her
brother, too, and in the light of his truth-beaming eye.
"You are always accusing _me_ of every thing," said she, at length. "I
didn't do it----all;" the last syllable was uttered in a low, indistinct
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