sly left open the door of his room and Eyebright,
peeping in, spied it, and saw that his trunk was unlocked. Now was her
chance, she thought, and, without consulting anybody, she went in,
resolved to find the doll for herself.

Into the trunk she dived. It was full of things, all of which she
pulled out and threw upon the floor, which had no carpet, and was
pretty dusty. Boots, and shirts, and books, and blacking-bottles, and
papers,--all were dumped one on top of the other; but though she went
to the very bottom, no doll was to be found, and she trotted away,
almost crying with disappointment, and leaving the things just as they
lay, on the floor.

Mr. Porter did not like it at all, when he found his property in this
condition, and Miss Fitch punished Eyebright, and Wealthy scolded
hard; but Eyebright never could be made to see that she had done any
thing naughty.

"He's a wicked man, and he didn't tell the trufe," was all she would
say. Wealthy was deeply shocked at the affair, and never let Eyebright
forget it, so that even now, after six years had passed, the mention
of Mr. Porter's name made her feel uncomfortable. She left the
door-step presently, and went upstairs to her mother's room, where she
usually spent the last half-hour before going to bed.

It was one of Mrs. Bright's better days, and she was lying on the
sofa. She was a pretty little woman still, though thin and faded, and
had a gentle, helpless manner, which made people want to pet her, as
they might a child. The room seemed very warm and close after the
fresh door-step, and Eyebright thought, as she had thought many times
before, "How I wish that mother liked to have her window open!" But
she did not say so. "Was your tea nice, mamma?" she asked, a little
doubtfully, for Mrs. Bright was hard to please with food, probably
because her appetite was so fickle.

"Pretty good," her mother answered; "my egg was too hard, and I don't
like quite so much sugar in rhubarb, but it did very well. What have
you been about all day, Eyebright?"

"Nothing particular, mamma. School, you know; and after school, some
of the girls came into our hayloft and told stories, and we had such a
nice time. Then Mr. Joyce was here to tea. He's a real nice man,
mamma. I wish you had seen him."

"How was he nice? It seems to me you didn't see enough of him to
judge," said her mother.

"Why, mamma, I can always tell right away if people are nice or not.
Can't you? Couldn't