Miss Fosbrook and Susan both tried to argue with him; but he had set his mind upon one point so vehemently, that it was making him absolutely stupid to everything else; and he was such a little boy (only five years old), that his mind could hardly grasp the exceeding unlikelihood of a girl like Elizabeth committing such a theft, either in sport or earnest, nor understand the injury of such a suspicion. He only knew that she had a secret—a counter secret to his pig; and when she hotly assured him that she had never touched the money, and Susan backed her up with, “There, she says she did not,” he answered, “She once told a story.” Elizabeth coloured deep red, and Susan cried out loudly that it was a shame in David; then explained that it was a long long time ago, that Hal and Bessie broke the drawing-room window by playing at ball with little hard apples, and had not told, but when questioned had said, “No;” but indeed they had been so sorry then that she knew they would never do so again. Again David showed that he could not enter into this, and sulkily repeated, “She told a story.” “I will have no more of this,” said Christabel resolutely. “You are all working yourselves up into a bad spirit: and not another word will I hear on this matter till lessons are over.” That tone was always obeyed; but lessons did not prosper; the children were all restless and unsettled; and David, hitherto for his age her best scholar, took no pains, and seemed absolutely stupefied. What did he care for fines, if the chance of the pig was gone? And he was sullenly angry with Miss Fosbrook for using no measures to recover the money, fancied she did not care, and remembered the foolish nursery talk about her favouring Bessie. Once Miss Fosbrook heard a little gasping from the corner, and looking round, saw poor Bessie crying quietly over her slate, and trying hard to check herself. She would not have noticed her, though longing to comfort her, if David had not cried out, “Bet is crying! A fine!” “No,” said Miss Fosbrook; “but a fine for an ill-natured speech that has made her cry.” “She has got the pig’s money,” muttered David. “Say that again, and I shall punish you, David.” He looked her full in the face, and said it again. She was thoroughly roused to anger, and kept her word by opening the door of a small dark closet, and putting David in till dinner-time. Then she and Susan both tried to soothe Bessie, by reminding her how childish David was, how he had caught up some word that probably Hal had flung out without meaning it, and how no one of any sense suspected her for a moment. “It is so ill-natured and hard,” sobbed Bessie. “To think I could steal! I think they hate me.” “Ah,” said Susan, “if you only would never be cross to the boys, Bessie, and not keep out of what they care for, they would never think it.”