"So I have always thought; but I have had a terrible disappointment in her. No one would suppose it, but I have recently heard that she is a thief, and that to a large amount. The child, innocent as she looks, has actually stolen fifty dollars from our mill." "That is absolutely impossible! I will not believe it. Who told you so, Etta?" "One of the class. Bertie Sanderson. She was not at all willing to tell tales on her companion, but I questioned her and found it is as I say. She assures me that all the girls know about it, and that two of them--she did not give their names--saw the theft." "Why did they not inform about it at once?" "So I asked her; but she did not seem to know, and also declined giving the names of the two girls. That was a little more honorable than I gave Bertie credit for being." "A little more deceitful, possibly," said Eunice, who had no high opinion of Bertie Sanderson; "yet, if she were herself one of these girls, she would, I suppose, have been glad to say so. Where do you suppose this child found fifty dollars to steal? Money is not kept loose around the mill, and the girls do not have access to the office. There is something we don't know about this, Etta. The subject ought to be investigated. Have you spoken to James?" "No, I don't want to prejudice him against Katie, if she should be innocent; but I fear that is hardly possible, after what Bertie said." "I should be more inclined to suspect Bertie herself. Where do you suppose she got that flashy silk dress she wears?" "Isn't it horrid! I wonder those girls don't see how vulgar their cheap finery is." "Perhaps they try to copy their teacher," ventured the elder sister, whose exquisitely neat style of dress was always remarkable for its plainness and simplicity when she came in contact with her Sunday scholars. But Etta was not yet sufficiently humbled to take reproof from that source, and she abruptly left the room. All the same, however, she thought and prayed a great deal upon the subject, and the next Sunday surprised her class by appearing before them without an unnecessary ribbon or ornament. CHAPTER XI. TESSA. Katie Robertson remained in the mill that Saturday afternoon, although her work had long been completed, till the bell rang for five o'clock, that being the hour for the Saturday dismissal. Then she said to Tessa:-- "Come and take a walk with me. There's a full hour before tea, and I don't believe you've ever seen the Fawn's Leap. Have you?" "No," said her companion, "I have never been anywhere in Squantown. They would not let us go, in the poor-house, and since I've been in the mill I've been too tired after work was over." "Are you very tired now?" "Not so very; I did not sleep much last night." "Was it a _very_ interesting story?" said the other, archly.