trembling, and that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes full of tears.

"Why! what ails my darling?" he asked tenderly.

Adelaide had left the room a moment before, and there was no one near
enough to hear.

"Please, papa, don't be very angry with me," she pleaded, speaking very
low and hesitatingly. "I did not know you cared about my curls; I did not
think about their belonging to you, and I did give one to Carry."

He was silent a moment, evidently surprised at her confession; then he
said gently, "No, dearest, I will not be angry this time, and I feel sure
you will not do so again, now you know that I _do_ care."

"No, _indeed_, I will not, dear papa," she replied in a tone of intense
relief. "But you are not going to punish me?" she asked, beginning to
tremble again. "I was _so_ afraid to tell you, lest you would say I
should not have my ride this afternoon."

"Why, then, did you not put off your confession until after the ride?" he
asked, looking searchingly into her face.

"I wanted to very much, papa," she said, looking down and blushing
deeply, "but I knew it would be very wrong."

"My dear, conscientious little daughter," he said, taking her on his
knee, "your father loves you better than ever for this new proof of your
honesty and truthfulness. Deprive you of your ride? no, indeed, I feel
far more like rewarding than punishing you. Ah! I had forgotten! I have