They all followed her into her room--every thing seemed in perfect order, and the flower-pot stood exactly where Leila had placed it; but two of the plants seemed withered, and when Mrs. Stanley touched them they fell from her hand on the carpet, they evidently had been broken off and carefully stuck into the earth again. “Who can have done this?” Mrs. Stanley exclaimed, and her eyes fell upon Selina, who had become very pale. “Selina,” she said, “do you know any thing of this?” “No, mamma, I do not.” “But I see you suspect,” Mrs. Stanley said. “Where is Matilda?” At that moment Amy entered the room, but seeing it occupied was retreating again, when Mrs. Stanley called to her. “Amy,” she said, “come here. Do you know any thing of this? did you overturn that flower-pot?” “Miss Leila’s favourite flowers! O no, no, I did not. I was not aware it had been overturned.” Her look of perfect truthfulness it was impossible to doubt. When the flowers fell to the ground, Leila had hidden her face on her papa’s shoulder, and was struggling with her emotion; she now looked up, and turning to Mrs. Stanley, she said, “Aunt, there is still one plant left, and it must have been an accident. O don’t say any thing more about it.” But Mrs. Stanley would not yield to this. “No, my love,” she said, “it is quite necessary that I should endeavour to discover the truth. The overturning of the flower-pot might have been an accident, but the attempt to deceive, the replanting the flowers in the earth, could not have been accidental. Now, Amy, recollect yourself, and tell me if you have seen any one leaving this room lately?” Amy was silent. “I insist upon knowing,” Mrs. Stanley said. “I saw Miss Matilda come out of the room, ma’am,” Amy answered in a trembling voice. “Was it before Miss Mildmay went home, or after?” Mrs. Stanley inquired. “It was after, ma’am.” “And did you observe any thing particular in Miss Matilda’s appearance? Did she look distressed?” Amy was again silent. “Speak out, Amy, I desire you,” Mrs. Stanley said. “Miss Matilda was crying, ma’am.” “You may go, Amy, and send Miss Matilda to me.” Amy left the room. Mr. Howard also rose and quitted the room just as Matilda was entering it; she came in trembling excessively, and looking very pale, but the moment Mrs. Stanley placed the flower-pot before her and said, “Matilda, do you know any thing of this?” the deepest colour suffused her face, and mounted to her temples. She remained silent. “You were in your cousin’s room after dinner, were you not?” Mrs. Stanley inquired. “Yes, mamma.” The words were scarcely audible. Mrs. Stanley fixed her eyes upon her face. “Matilda,” she said, “I happened to be in your cousin’s room immediately before dinner; I went to look for a book. The flowers then looked perfectly fresh; you must have overturned the flower-pot when Amy saw you coming out of the room this evening.”