Mallow sat quietly amid all the litter, in no wise inclined to laugh at these last words, albeit there was some humour in them. On all sides there was the noise of children creeping, scuffling, and whispering. At times a head would pop round the corner; its owner, meeting Mallow's eye, would shriek and scuttle away, and then would be swift scampering and a continuous patter as of hard little hoofs on a frosty soil. Shortly the door swung open to its widest, and Margery appeared, so astonishing a spectacle that Mallow could not but stare at the child. She was draped in a sheet; her feet were bare, and she carried a lighted candle. "I'm doing penance!" announced Margery in solemn tones. "I should stand at the church-door and proclaim my sins, but mother won't let me." "Your sins?" said Mallow, suppressing a strong desire to laugh; "have you any?" "Dozens! I have sinned deeply," sighed this guilty little person. "I have been cross, I have stolen, I have perverted the truth. Would you like to hear about any particular sin, Mr. Mallow?" "I should be delighted, Margery. Only don't shock me too much." Margery waved her taper. "This sin was done to Olive!" she chanted. "Listen, oh people, to the sin done to Olive! I gave her a golden ornament of fine gold with wrought-work. She asked where I obtained it. I declared that I had taken it from the desk of my father. That was a lie. That was a sin. I did steal it. Wicked woman that I am--but I stole it from the study of Mr. Brock." "Margery!" Mallow jumped with sudden interest. "Did you find that wrist-button in Mr. Brock's study?" Margery dropped her candle and became the child she was, even to the length of bursting into tears. "Yes," she sobbed, "I was wicked. I went to see Mr. Brock; he left me to play in his study, and I found the button in the drawer of his writing-table. I--I--I took it." CHAPTER III. "MR. BROCK AND THE LETTER." Margery's conscience had now the upper hand of her. All her acting was cast to the winds. "It was wrong to take it," she wept. "I can see that now, Mr. Mallow, but I did not think. Father said that all property should be shared in common, so I thought I would share with Mr. Brock; he has very nice property," she added, naïvely. "Was this wrist-button put away carefully?" "No-o-o. It was lying loose in a drawer; I didn't think it was of much value. I am very, very wicked." Mallow drew the child towards him and consoled her. "Don't cry, Margery," he said, wiping her eyes with his handkerchief. "A fault confessed is half-redressed. Did you tell Mr. Brock that you were sorry?" "Yes; I told him that I was converted, and that I repented of my wickedness. He said it did not matter; that I was not to trouble about what I had done." "Then don't trouble, dear. There, there, it's all right. So you have given up the Anarchism?" "I am a Christian now. I believe in----"