good, Viney is bad." I said: "You struck Viney and kicked her and
hurt her. You were very naughty, and I cannot kiss naughty girl."
She stood very still for a moment, and it was evident from her
face, which was flushed and troubled, that a struggle was going
on in her mind. Then she said: "Helen did (does) not love
teacher. Helen do love mother. Mother will whip Viney." I told
her that she had better not talk about it any more, but think.
She knew that I was much troubled, and would have liked to stay
near me; but I thought it best for her to sit by herself. At the
dinner-table she was greatly disturbed because I didn't eat, and
suggested that "Cook make tea for teacher." But I told her that
my heart was sad, and I didn't feel like eating. She began to cry
and sob and clung to me.

She was very much excited when we went upstairs; so I tried to
interest her in a curious insect called a stick-bug. It's the
queerest thing I ever saw--a little bundle of fagots fastened
together in the middle. I wouldn't believe it was alive until I
saw it move. Even then it looked more like a mechanical toy than
a living creature. But the poor little girl couldn't fix her
attention. Her heart was full of trouble, and she wanted to talk
about it. She said: "Can bug know about naughty girl? Is bug very
happy?" Then, putting her arms round my neck, she said: "I am
(will be) good to-morrow. Helen is (will be) good all days." I
said, "Will you tell Viney you are very sorry you scratched and
kicked her?" She smiled and answered, "Viney (can) not spell
words." "I will tell Viney you are very sorry," I said. "Will you
go with me and find Viney?" She was very willing to go, and let
Viney kiss her, though she didn't return the caress. She has been
unusually affectionate since, and it seems to me there is a