Her shudder, as she seated herself, was very convincing. She was
too young to simulate so successfully emotions of this character.

"I'm glad of that," she responded, half fretfully, half gratefully,
as Mr. Gryce followed her mother into the adjoining room. "I've
had a bad enough time of it without being blamed for what I didn't
know and didn't do."

Mr. Gryce laid little stress upon these words, but much upon the
lack of curiosity she showed in the minute and careful examination
he now made of her room. There was no stain on the pillow-cover
and none on the bureau-spread where she might very naturally have
laid the cutter down on first coming into her room. The blade was
so polished that it must have been rubbed off somewhere, either
purposely or by accident. Where then, since not here? He asked to
see her gloves--the ones she had worn the previous night.

"They are the same she is wearing now," the anxious mother assured
him. "Wait, and I will get them for you."

"No need. Let her hold out her hands in token of amity. I shall
soon see."

They returned to where the girl still sat, wrapped in her cloak,
sobbing still, but not so violently.

"Caroline, you may take off your things," said the mother, drawing
the pins from her own hat. "We shall not go to-day."

The child shot her mother one disappointed look, then proceeded to