ery _unagreeable_ to go off and leave my party.
They'll call me a little lie-girl; they wont ask me to their house no
more."

So I didn't run away. I sat in the wagon, groaning softly to myself.
The way of the transgressor _is_ hard. _Every_ way was hard to me
since I had set out to do wrong. It was hard to run off and be called
"unagreeable," and very, very hard to go home and face my troubles.

I had not supposed there was the least danger of any one's coming
before three o'clock; but to my surprise, when we reached the house, I
found the front entry full of small girls--the little specks in A B C.
There they stood, some of them with fingers in their mouths, while
mother held the parlor-door open, and was asking them very kindly what
they wanted. "Margaret," said she, "these little girls have been here
as much as ten minutes; I don't know yet what they came for; perhaps
you can find out."

[Illustration: THE PARTY. Page 78.]

Poor, sick mother was holding her head with her hand as she
spoke. I hated myself so that I wanted to scream.

"Hattie," stammered I, taking one of the tiny ones by the hand, "come
out in the garden, and I'll get you some pretty posies." Of course the
rest followed like a flock of sheep. But we had hardly reached the
garden before I saw three or four more girls coming. It was of no use;
something must be done at once. I left the A B C girls staring at the
garden gate, and ran to the house for dear life.

"Mamma, mamma!" cried I, as soon as I could get my breath; and then I
rolled myself up into a little ball of anguish on the parlor carpet.

"Where's the camfire?" exclaimed Mrs. Duffy, springing up; "that
child's really a fainting off." Mother came to me and took my hands;
she says I was so pale that it quite startled her. "Where do you feel
sick, dear?" she asked tenderly.

That sympathetic tone broke me down entirely. My stubborn pride
yielded at once, and so did that bitter feeling I had been cherishing
so long in regard to the parasol.

"O, mamma!" sobbed I, catching the skirt of her dress and hiding my
head in it, and forgetting all about Mrs. Duffy; "I don't care what
you do, mamma. You may send 'em home, and tell 'em they didn't be
invited; you may go to the front door and say it this minute."

"It's gone till her head," said Mrs. Duffy, laying down the hammer;
"see her shuvver! She nades hot wather till her fate, poor thing."

"I don't care what you do to me, mamma; you may t