'Yes, yes, yes,' cried Angela, with less shame than Cherry would have thought possible, 'I will! I will! and then they'll make it up. Who would have thought Alda could have been so easily taken in? But how shall I do it unknownst to the harpies?' Cherry offered a pencil, and a bit of her drawing-block. She made no suggestion, thinking that the more characteristic the confession was, the more it would prove its authenticity. Angela retired into a window, and wrote, in her queer unformed hand: I, Angela Margaret Underwood, hereby confess that whatever I told Alda, my sister, about Geraldine and F.T., was all cram; and if I did it too well, I'm very sorry for it. F.T. didn't take a bit more notice of Cherry than of Robin and me; and of course he cannot marry the three of us: and of course it was all right, for Clement was there. Ask him. Witness my hand, ANGELA MARGARET UNDERWOOD. Then she called, 'Come and witness it, Robin.' 'Nonsense,' said Robina; and coming to look, she exclaimed, 'you have made it simply ridiculous. This will do no good!--See, Cherry.' But Cherry would not have it altered, and merely bade Robina write her testimony. This took much longer, though the produce was much briefer. It was only-- MY DEAR ALDA, Angela was only talking nonsense the other day. If I had not thought so, I would have told you. Your affectionate sister, ROBINA B. UNDERWOOD. 'You've made a letter of it!' exclaimed Angela. 'I thought it was to be a last will and--no, a dying speech and confession; which is it? Well, if that does not set it all straight, I can't tell what will!' Cherry was a good deal perplexed by the testimony now she had obtained it. She thought the matter over on her return, and ended by seeking Marilda; and with much excuse for Angela, putting it into her hands to show to Alda. She felt it due to herself to make sure that Marilda saw it, such as it was. Marilda undertook that Alda should see it. Geraldine watched and waited. There was no apology to herself. At that she did not wonder. Was there any note of recall sounded to Ferdinand? Was Alda proud? or was she in very truth indifferent, and unwilling to give up her excuse for a quarrel? or had she really relented, and apologized in secret? It was strange to know so little, and venture so much less with her own sister than could Marilda, whom, in their present stiff reserve, Cherry durst not question. CHAPTER XXVII. DON OR MYNHEER? 'Hear the truth-- A lame girl's truth, whom no one ever praised For being patient.' _George Eliot._