er, as the
elder, to sign the registered receipt.

"What's that for?" asked Francis.

"It's for proof that you've received the letter. You see that a
registered letter usually contains something valuable."

"I wonder what it can be? It's from Aunt Maria. See, her address is
written on the side of the envelope?"

"Yes," said the postmaster, who was a very good friend of the children.
"It's certainly from your aunt, and it probably contains something for
you both, but, you'd better put it in your bag now and tie it up,
according to your father's wish."

The children obediently acted upon this suggestion and started for home.
On their way they talked constantly of their letter, trying vainly to
guess what it might contain.

"It's something small, anyway," said Luella, "for it doesn't seem to
take any room."

"Maybe 'tisn't anything, after all," said Francis.

"Oh, yes, it is; for the letter is registered, you know."

So they went on talking and wondering until they had gone about half the
distance toward home. Then they reached a spreading apple tree which
grew by a fence near the sidewalk, and beneath which was a large stone,
often used as a resting-place for pedestrians.

"Let's sit down a while," said Francis. "I feel tired; don't you?"

"Yes, but father wouldn't like us to stop."

"Oh, yes, he would, if he knew how tired we are. I'm going to rest a
moment, anyway. That can't be any harm."

Luella allowed herself to follow her brother's example. So they took the
first step in disobedience.

Next Luella said: "I wonder if we couldn't just unfasten the bag and
look at that letter again. It's our letter, you know."

"Of course, it is. Give me the bag. I'll open it."

Then, without more ado, Francis deliberately opened the bag. Thus the
second step in wrong-doing was taken.

They examined the letter closely and leisurely, not one minute, but many
minutes, passing while they were thus engaged. Then Luella said: "I'm
going to read the letter. It's all the same whether we read it here or
at home."

It proved to be a very kind letter from Aunt Maria, who had lately made
them a visit. She concluded by saying: "While I was with you I took
pleasure in noticing your constant obedience. As a sort of reward, I
enclose for you each a five-dollar gold piece. Please accept the gift
with my love."

"Where are the gold pieces?" asked Francis, taking the envelope from
Luella, "Oh! here's one in the corner of this t