o put our fingers in
our ears _not_ to hear.'

'I didn't think it of you,' said Clements, beginning to sniff.

'I don't know what you're making all this fuss about,' said Molly; 'I'm
not a sneak.'

'Have a piece of cake, miss,' said Mrs. Williams, 'and give me your word
it shan't go any further.'

'I don't want your cake; you'd better give it to Clements. It's she that
tells things--not me.'

Molly began to cry.

'There, I declare, miss, I'm sorry I shook you, but I was that put out.
There! I ask your pardon; I can't do more. You wouldn't get poor
Clements into trouble, I'm sure.'

'Of course I wouldn't; you might have known that.'

Well, peace was restored; but Molly wouldn't have any cake.

That evening Jane wore a new silver brooch, shaped like a horseshoe,
with an arrow through it.

It was after tea, when Uncle Toodlethwaite was gone, that Molly,
creeping quietly out to see the pigs fed, came upon her aunt at the end
of the hollyhock walk. Her aunt was sitting on the rustic seat that the
crimson rambler rose makes an arbour over. Her handkerchief was held to
her face with both hands, and her thin shoulders were shaking with
sobs.

And at once Molly forgot how disagreeable Aunt Maria had always been,
and how she hated her. She ran to her aunt and threw her arms round her
neck. Aunt Maria jumped in her seat, but she let the arms stay where
they were, though they made it quite difficult for her to use her
handkerchief.

'Don't cry, dear ducky _darling_ Aunt Maria,' said Molly--'oh, don't!
What _is_ the matter?'

'Nothing you would understand,' said Aunt Maria gruffly; 'run away and
play, there's a good child.'

'But I don't want to play while you're crying. I'm sure I could
understand, dear little auntie.'

Molly embraced the tall, gaunt figure of the aunt.

'Dear little auntie, tell Molly.'

She used just the tone she was used to use to her baby brother.

'It's--it's business,' said Aunt Maria, sniffing.

'I know business is dreadfully bad--father says so,' said Molly. 'Don't
send me away, auntie; I'll be as quiet as a mouse. I'll just sit and
cuddle you till you feel better.'

She got her arms round the aunt's waist, and snuggled her head against a
thin arm. Aunt Maria had always been one for keeping children in their
proper places. Yet somehow now Molly's proper place seemed to be just
where she was--where she had never been before.

'You're a kind little girl, Maria,' she said presently