."

"Yes, dear; so I have learned to-day."

"I deceived you a-purpose, grandma; for if I hadn't deceived you, you
wouldn't have let me go."

There was a sorrowful expression on Mrs. Parlin's face as she listened
to these words, though they told her nothing new.

"Has you got a pain, gamma?" said little Katie, tenderly.

"I did another wickedness, grandma," said Dotty, in a low voice; "I went
barefoot, and you never said I might."

"Poor little one, you were sorely punished for that," said grandma,
kindly.

"And another, too, I did; I threw my basket away; but that wasn't much
wicked; Jennie made me think perhaps 'twas a non."

"A what?"

"A _non_, that catches lightning, you know; so I threw it away to save
my life."

Grandma smiled.

"And now," continued Dotty, twirling her fingers, "can you--can
you--forgive me, grandma?"

"Indeed I can and will, child, if you are truly sorry."

"There now, grandma," said Dotty, looking distressed, "you think I don't
feel sorry because I don't cry. I can't cry as much as Prudy does, ever;
and besides, I cried all my tears away last night."

Dotty rubbed her eyes vigorously as she spoke, but no "happy mist" came
over them.

"Why, my dear little Alice," said grandmamma, "it is quite unnecessary
for you to rub your eyes. Don't you know you can _prove_ to me that you
are sorry?"

"How, grandma?"

"Never do any of these naughty things again. That is the way I shall
know that you really repent. Sometimes children think they are sorry,
and make a great parade, but forget it next day, and repeat the
offence."

"Indeed, grandma, I don't mean ever to deceive or disobey again," said
Dotty, with a great deal more than her usual humility.

"Ask your heavenly Father to help you keep that promise," said Mrs.
Parlin, solemnly.

CHAPTER VIII.

WASHING THE PIG.

After her grandmother had left the room, Miss Dotty lay on the sofa for
five minutes, thinking.

"Then it doesn't make any difference how much anybody cries, or how much
they don't cry. If they are truly sorry, then they won't do it again;
that's all."

Then she wondered if Jennie Vance had asked her step-mother's pardon. She
thought she ought to talk to Jennie, and tell her how much happier she
would feel if she would only try to be a good little girl.

"That child is growing naughty every day of her life," mused Miss
Dimple, with a feeling of pity.

There was plenty of time to learn the morning's