"I am glad," said she, "that you don't tell any falsehood about it;
you are welcome to stay here till you get a place."

By this time I could speak, and I said to her, "I am as innocent as
the child just born. I never took so much as a pin from any one; I
do not wish to stay a minute in your house; I would not stay in any
one's house who had accused me of dishonesty;" and I called upon my
mother and my friend Mrs. Brown, though I knew they could not answer
me, and I cried aloud like a child.

My mistress shed tears, and said she should not have accused me
without certain proofs of my dishonesty, and begged me to confess my
fault, and to stay till I got a place; but I told her I would not
stay another minute, and I went to my chamber and tied up my bundle,
and put on my bonnet and shawl, and walked straight off without
speaking to any one.

I had gone nearly a mile before I was at all calmed, and then, out
of breath, and miserable beyond words to tell, I sat down under an
old tree by the roadside. It was autumn; the tree was stripped of
its leaves, the wind sounded mournfully among the dead branches,
there were heavy dark clouds in the sky, and my heart was heavier
and darker than the clouds, and my sighs were sadder than the wind.

The place where I had been living was two miles from the village
where I had lived with Mrs. Brown, and I had taken the road to it,
though then she was not there to take me in; I had no relation in
the wide world; O, I never shall forget that dreary moment, and how
desolate I felt. I looked up into the sky, and called upon God, the