y the goodies."

"Maggie, you are to say no more, but listen to me," said Eleanor. Then
sending Patty and Edith away, she spoke to the culprit as earnestly as
she knew how of the sin of which she had been guilty, ending by making
her repeat after her a few simple words of prayer for pardon. All this
Maggie received submissively, only whispering, as if to herself, "But I
do think God might have made me remember before!" which remark Eleanor
judged it best to ignore. Then she kissed Maggie, and the child clung to
her affectionately. But still Eleanor could not feel satisfied; there
was a dreamy vagueness about the little girl, a want, it seemed to
Eleanor, of realising her fault to the full, which puzzled and perplexed
her. Still Maggie was restored to favour, and in a day or two seemed
much the same as usual, even flying into a passion when, contrary to
Eleanor's order, the subject was alluded to in the nursery and curiosity
expressed as to what had become of the box. "I don't mind you saying I
took the goodies," she said. "I did; but I never touched the box."

A week, ten days, went by. It was the evening before Maggie's birthday.
All the children were in bed, Jack and Max at their lessons in their
own room, when a tap came at the door of the library, where Miss
Campbell was sitting alone, and in answer to her "come in," nurse
entered. She looked pale and discomposed. Eleanor could almost have
fancied she had been crying.

"What is the matter?" she exclaimed.

"This, Miss Campbell, this is the matter," said nurse, laying a little
box on the table; "and, oh! when I think what that poor child suffered,
I feel as if I could never forgive myself."

"Flop's box!" said Eleanor, bewildered; "it can't be--surely it is
Towzer's--and," as she opened it, "half full of bon-bons!"

"Yes, miss; just as it was left."

"And Maggie never touched them?"

"Never touched them, miss," said nurse solemnly. Then she explained. A
dressmaker from the neighbouring town had been in the nursery the day
the bon-bons were missed, fitting nurse in the very room where they
were. And on this person's return home, she had found the little box
among the folds of the material. "I remember tossing a lot of things up
on to the drawers to be out of the way, because Miss Baby would climb on
to my bed, where they were, and I thought she would crush them," said
nurse; "and Miss Weaver never thought it of any consequence, or she
would have brought it be