"It's a--a flower-pot, that the gardener's boy left outside the tool-house. I--I--well, I put it on Fritz's head for a hat, you know. He did look so funny, but he tossed up his head and ran away, and it fell, and it is smashed to bits. I have got the bits outside the door on the mat. Shall I bring them in?" A flower-pot was of such small value in Sir Edward's eyes that he almost smiled at the child's distress. "Well, well, you must learn not to touch the flower-pots in future. Now run away, and do not disturb me again." But Milly stood her ground. "I think you have forgot, Uncle Edward. You told me that if I broke anything again you would punish me '_most_ severely.' Those were the words you said; don't you remember?" Sir Edward pulled the ends of his moustache and fidgeted uneasily in his chair. He always prided himself upon being a man of his word, but much regretted at the present moment that he had been so rash in his speech. "Oh! ah! I remember," he said at length, meeting his little niece's anxious gaze with some embarrassment. Then pulling himself together, he added sternly,-- "Of course you must be punished; it was exceedingly careless and mischievous. What does your nurse do when she punishes you?" "She never does punish me--not now," said Milly plaintively. "When I was a very little girl I used to stand in the corner. I don't think nurse has punished me for years." Sir Edward was in a dilemma; children's punishments were quite unknown to him. Milly seemed to guess at his difficulty. "How were you punished when you were a little boy, uncle?" "I used to be well thrashed. Many is the whipping that I have had from my father!" "What is a whipping--like you gave Fritz when he went into the game wood?" "Yes." There was a pause. The child clasped her little hands tighter, and set her lips firmer, as she saw before her eyes a strong arm dealing very heavy strokes with a riding-whip. Then she said in an awe-struck tone,-- "And do you think that is how you had better punish me?" Sir Edward smiled grimly as he looked at the baby figure standing so erect before him. "No," he said; "I do not think you are a fit subject for that kind of treatment." Milly heaved a sigh of relief. "And don't you know how to punish," she said after some minutes of awkward silence. There was commiseration in her tone. The situation was becoming ludicrous to Sir Edward, though there was a certain amount of annoyance at feeling his inability to carry out his threat. "Nurse told me," continued his little niece gravely, "that she knew a little boy who was shut up in a dark cupboard for a punishment; but he was found nearly dead, and really died the next day, from fright. There is a dark cupboard on the kitchen stairs. I don't think I should be very frightened, because God will be in there with me. Do you think that would do?" This was not acceptable. The child went on with knitted brows: