"I suppose not!" I answered, softening a little. "But indeed, aunt, I am sure I did not break the glass. I never touched it, and was quite a distance away when I heard it crack." "Very well, I will take your account of it!" said my aunt, after a little consideration. "But why could you not have said so, as well as to answer me so pertly?" "I am sorry I was pert!" I answered, softening as soon as I saw that my aunt was disposed to do me justice. "I beg your pardon. But, indeed, indeed, I did not break the Indian tree." "Tell me all about it!" said my aunt. "How was it?" I began and went over the whole story—how badly I had felt; how I went to see the Indian tree, and had kissed one of the flowers, because I fancied that it looked kindly at me; how Madge and Betty had accused and taunted me; and how in my rage I broke the white lily. "But that was very foolish!" said my aunt. "What had the poor lily done?" "Nothing, aunt! I was sorry the next minute, and I buried it in the ground that I might not see the poor thing any more." "That was what Betty saw you doing in your garden, then?" "Yes, aunt; I suppose so." My aunt mused a little, holding my hand in hers meantime. Then she raised her head and said decidedly: "Loveday, I am disposed to believe that you are telling the truth. I do not think you hurt the flower, unless you broke it by accident, as you say you kissed it. Are you sure you did not?" "Yes, aunt; quite sure. Oh, Aunt Joyce, do believe me. I can't live if every one thinks me a liar." And then I began to cry again. My aunt hushed me and tried to make me eat, but that I could not do. She then undressed me and put me to bed with her blessing. My fierce indignation was all gone by that time, and I began to hope that things would come right after all. I don't know whether or not my aunt imparted to my uncle her own convictions of my innocence, but if so, she did not succeed in convincing him. I staid in my solitude all day, but I was allowed my embroidery frame, and Sambo—with my aunt's connivance, I imagine—brought his talking popinjay to amuse me. It was a very pretty and entertaining bird, and I beguiled my solitude by teaching it some new words and phrases.