"What's done can't be helped now," said my husband kindly,
interrupting, as he spoke, some further remarks that aunt Rachel
evidently intended to make. "We must do better next time."

"I must do better," was my quick remark, made in penitent tones. "I
was very thoughtless."

To relieve my mind, my husband changed the subject of conversation;
but, nothing could relieve the pressure upon my feelings, caused by
a too acute consciousness of having done what in the eyes of my
husband, looked like a want of true humanity. I could not bear that
he should think me void of sympathy for others.

The day following was Sunday. Church time came, and Mr. Smith went
to the clothes press for his best coat, which had been worn only for
a few months.

"Jane!" he called to me suddenly, in a voice that made me start.
"Jane! Where is my best coat?"

"In the clothes press," I replied, coming out from our chamber into
the passage, as I spoke.

"No; it's not here," was his reply. "And, I shouldn't wonder if you
had sold my good coat for those china vases."

"No such thing!" I quickly answered, though my heart gave a great
bound at his words; and then sunk in my bosom with a low tremor of
alarm.

"Here's my old coat," said Mr. Smith, holding up that defaced
garment--"Where is the new one?"

"The old clothes man has it, as sure as I live!" burst from my lips.

"Well, that is a nice piece of work, I must confess!"

This was all my husband said; but it was enough to smite me almost
to the floor. Covering my face with my hands, I dropped into a
chair, and sat and sobbed for a while bitterly.

"It can't be helped now, Jane," said Mr. Smith, at length, in a
soothing voice. "The coat is gone, and there is no help for it. You
will know better next time."

That was all he said to me then, and I was grateful for his kind
consideration. He saw that I was punished quite severely enough, and
did not add to my pain by rebuke or complaint.

An attempt was made during the week to recover the coat, valued at
some twenty dollars; but the china ornament-man was not to be
found--he had made too good a bargain to run the risk of having it
broken.

About an hour after the discovery of the loss of my husband's coat,
I went quietly down into the parlor, and taking from the
mantle-piece the china vases, worth, probably, a dollar for the
pair, concealed them under my apron, lest any one should see what I
had; and, returning up stairs, hid them awa