Mona, rushing to the door to look, found Lucy on her knees by the dying plants, the tears dropping from her eyes. Only yesterday they were so happy and so beautiful, a rich carpet of brown, gold, tawny, and crimson, all glowing in the sunshine, and filling the air with their glorious scent--and now! Oh, it was pitiful, pitiful. "I'll fill a tub with water and plunge them all in," cried Lucy, frantically collecting her poor favourites--then suddenly she dropped them. "No, no, I won't, I'll bury them out of sight. I could never give them new life. Oh, who could have been so wicked?" Mona was standing beside her, white-faced and silent. At her mother's last question, she opened her lips for the first time. "I--I did it," she gasped in a horrified voice. "I--didn't know, I must have done it when I was weeding. Oh, mother, I am so sorry. What can I do--oh, what can I do!" "You! Oh, Mona!" But at the sight of Mona's distress Lucy forgot her own. "Never mind. It can't be helped. 'Twas an accident, of course, and no one can prevent accidents. Don't fret about it, dear. Of course, you wouldn't have hurt them if you'd known what you were doing!" But her words failed to comfort Mona, for in her inmost heart she knew that she should have known better, that she could have helped it. It was just carelessness again. "They wouldn't have lasted more than a week or two longer, I expect," added Lucy, consolingly, trying to comfort herself as well as Mona. "Now, we'll get this bed ready for the ten-weeks stocks. It will do the ground good to rest a bit. I daresay the stocks will be all the finer for it later on." But still Mona was not consoled. "If I hadn't run away and left them to go and buy that hateful wreath," she was thinking. "If only I had remembered to press the earth tight round them again--if--if only I'd been more careful when I was weeding, and--if, if, if! It's all ifs with me!" Aloud, she said bitterly, "I only seem to do harm to everything I touch. I'd better give up! If I don't do anything, p'raps I shan't do mischief." Lucy laughed. "Poor old Paddy," she cried. "Why, you couldn't live and not do anything. Every minute of your life you are doing something, and when you are doing what you call 'nothing' you will be doing mischief, if it's only in setting a bad example. And you can work splendidly if you like, Mona, and you _do_ like, I know. I shan't forget for a long while how nice you'd got everything by the time I came home last night, and how early you got up this morning." Mona's face brightened. "You've got to learn to think, that's all, dear; and to remember to finish off one thing before you leave it to go to another. It's just the want of that that lies at the root of most of your trouble." A sound of many feet hurrying along the street and of shouting voices made Lucy break off suddenly, and sent them both running to the gate.