grass? Tell me and I'll believe you. Say it was a little piece o'
glass and I'll put you down and go get you some corn, and we'll never
speak of it again. But don't look at me like that--don't look at me like
that! You look--GUILTY!"

She rocked him in her arms. In her soul she knew what it was that had
glittered. But in Thomas Jefferson's soul--oh, they could not blame
Thomas Jefferson!

"You haven't got any soul, poor dear; poor dear, you haven't got any
soul, and you can't be guilty without a soul. They couldn't--hang--you."
Her voice sank to the merest whisper. She tightened her clasp on the
great, soft body and smoothed the soft feathers with a tender, tremulous
little hand.

"The Lord didn't put anything in you but a stomach and a--a gizzard. He
left your soul out and you're not to blame for that. I don't blame
you, Thomas Jefferson, and of course the Lord don't. But Mrs. Avery's
boarder--oh, oh, dear, I'm afraid Mrs. Avery's boarder will! You mustn't
tell--I mean I mustn't. Nobody must know what it was that glittered in
the grass. Do you want to be--searched?

"You know 'xactly where she sat over to this house yesterday morning,
when she went by--and how she said you were too sweet for anything--and
how she flew her hand round with--with IT on it. You know as well as I
do. And it was loose, the di'mond-stone was loose. We didn't either of
us know that. We're not to blame if things are loose, and you're not to
blame for not having any soul. But oh, oh, dear, how dreadfully it makes
us both feel! You'd better give up crowing, Thomas Jefferson; I feel
just as if you'd let it out if you crew."

At tea Rebecca Mary played with her spoon, while her berries swam,
untasted, in their yellow sea of cream. Aunt Olivia remonstrated.

"Why don't you eat your supper, child?" she asked, sharply. Rebecca Mary
was always glad when she said child instead of Rebecca Mary, for then
the sharpness did not cut. She was feeling now for the glasses up in her
thin gray hair. Aunt Olivia could see everything through those glasses
and it made Rebecca Mary tremble to think--oh, oh, dear, suppose she
should see the secret hidden in Rebecca Mary's soul! It seemed as if
Aunt Olivia trained the glasses directly upon the corner where the
secret glittered in the gra--was hidden in Rebecca Mary's troubled
little soul. But this is what Aunt Olivia said:

"It's your stomach. What you need is a good dose of camomile tea to
tone you up. I didn