With the cowering aspect of a beaten dog, the child came slowly forward into the light: sharp-featured, tangled of hair, red-eyed, cheek-soiled with weeping. Tim Ruggles winced again as he looked upon her thin bare arms and shoulders, lined by the livid weals made by the sharp elastic rod of correction, ink-like in its effects, the dark marks seeming to run along the flesh as the vicious blows had fallen. The poor child crept slowly forward, as if drawn by some strange influence towards Mrs Ruggles, her eyes resting the while upon Tim, whose face was working, and whose fingers opened and closed as if he were anxious to snatch the child to his heart. "Now, ask her what she was whipped for," shouted Mrs Ruggles. "Tell him. What was it for?" "For--for--taking--" "Ah! what's that? For what?" shouted Mrs Ruggles. "For--for--for stealing--for--for--oh!--oh!--oh!" cried the child, bursting into an uncontrollable fit of sobbing, "I didn't do it--I didn't do it!" And there she stopped short: the words, the sobs, the wailing tone, all ceased as if by magic, as Mrs Ruggles snatched the whalebone from its supporting nails. "Yes, yes," the child shrieked in haste, as the rigid figure and the instrument of torture approached--"for stealing the cake from the cupboard." And then teeth were set fast, lips nipped together, hands clenched, and eyes closed, and the whole of the child's nine years' old determination seemed to be summoned up to bear the blow she could hear about to descend. The whalebone whistled through the air, and, in spite of every effort, the cut which fell upon the bare shoulders elicited a low wail of suffering. A deep sigh burst from Tim Ruggles' breast, and he bent lower over his work, moving his iron, but over the wrong places, as he closed his eyes not to see the child fall upon her knees and press both hands tightly over her lips to keep back the cry she could not otherwise conquer; her every act displaying how long must have been the course of ill-treatment that had drawn forth such unchildlike resolution and endurance. "Now," cried Mrs Ruggles, "no noise!" though her own sharp unfeminine tones must have penetrated to the very attics as she spoke. "There, that will do. Now get up this minute." "But," said the little tailor, humbly, "you should always ask before you punish, Mary. I--I took the piece of cake out of the cupboard, because I hardly ate any breakfast." "Tim--Tim--Tim!" cried Mrs Ruggles; and as she spoke, she looked at him sideways, her eyes gleaming sharply out of the corners. "You false man, you! but the more you try to screen her that way, the more I'll punish. How many times does this make that I've found you out?" "Times--found out?" stammered Tim. "Yes--times found out," retorted Mrs Ruggles. "But I'll have no more of it, and so long as she's here, she shall behave herself, or I'll cut her thievish ways out of her."