face, the almond tree was farther away than ever; she was captured more
completely than she had ever been before.

"Oh, you naughty little girl--you _naughty_ girl," she heard her aunt
say; and then, after her, the bird like a cork. She stood there, her
mouth tightly shut, the marks of tears drying to muddy lines on her
face.

She was dragged off. Aunt Emily was furious at the child's silence; Aunt
Emily was also aware that she must have looked what she would call "a
pretty figure of fun" with her hat askew, her hair blown "anyway," and a
small child of three escaping from her charge as fast as she could go.

Angelina was dragged across the street, in through the squeezed front
door, over the dark stairs, up into the nursery. Miss Violet's voice
was heard calling, "Is that you, Emily? Tea's been waiting some time."

It was nurse's afternoon out, and the nursery was grimly empty; but
through the open, window came the evening sounds of the happy Square.
Miss Emily placed Angelina in the middle of the room. "Now say you're
sorry, you wicked child!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

"Sowwy," came slowly from Angelina. Then she looked down at her doll.

"Leave that doll alone. Speak as though you were sorry."

"I'm velly sowwy."

"What made you run away like that?" Angelina said nothing. "Come, now!
Didn't you know it was very wicked?"