"I can't help last night!" snapped Mrs. Lawton. "This is to-day, and I've got to go down town. Time was when I had not to account for every movement to my own children--when my husband would have risen in his place and forbidden such a humiliating action----" Now to be just, one must admit that, though very garrulous, Letitia Lawton was not an ill-tempered woman, and this unusual sharpness of tone and word brought utter amazement into the eyes of her daughters. John Lawton's slippered feet shifted uneasily beneath the table: "I'm afraid your coffee will grow cold, my dear!" he murmured. Sybil ventured to suggest that the shopping list, though long, was simple enough for a child to manage successfully, and just then both girls became aware of something unusual in their mother's appearance--of a sort of toning down--a--a lessening of color--a--not a pallor exactly, but a--why? As they turned troubled, bewildered eyes toward each other, Lena, who always left them to wait upon themselves at breakfast, while she played femme de chambre upstairs, came stumbling down, volubly defending herself in advance from some unspoken charge and holding something in her closed wet hand: "I no have done dot ting! no, I neffer make mit dot ting! No, neffer! My Miss Ladies! Vunce--youst vunce--I touch dot cork to de tongue--youst dot I see if it vas beet juice alretty, und it vasn't--und I ain't broke nottings! No, my Herr Mister--nottings!" "In other days," groaned Mrs. Lawton, "this girl would only have known my scullery!" "Why, Lena," said Dorothy, "nothing has been broken--so, of course, you cannot be blamed." "Oh!" cried Lena, desperately, "der mistress's red-cheeks bottle is broked, und I don't do it!" "Lena!" ejaculated Mrs. Lawton, "leave the room!" "I show first, den I leave der rooms!" said Lena, tearfully. "See you here, my Miss Ladies," said she, opening her hand. "I find him in der slops-jar--but, I don't neffer break der lady's cheeks-bottle--neffer!-- no!" There, on the wet palm, lay the half of a tiny bottle, whose contents had been red, and on its front still clung the legend "Rouge-Vinaigre." The girls' eyes sank, their faces flushed red all over. This explained the unusual paleness of their mother, the sudden necessity for visiting the city, and the spoiling of their day. A painful silence, broken only by Lena's snuffle, held them for a moment; then Mr. Lawton spoke, almost sternly: "You may go, Lena--I know all about who broke the toilet bottle. Give me my coffee, Letitia."