"Run," said Sylvia, giving Estralla a little push. "Run out on the
balcony." Estralla did not question the command, and in a moment,
carrying dress and towel, she had vanished through the open window.

"Why, child! What has happened?" exclaimed Mrs. Fulton, coming into the
room and looking at the overturned footstool, the pieces of the broken
pitcher, and at Sylvia standing in the middle of the floor with an
anxious, half-frightened expression.

"Don't look so frightened, dear child. A broken pitcher isn't worth it,"
said Mrs. Fulton smilingly. "It's only hot water, and won't hurt
anything. Only Father is waiting for breakfast, so use cold water this
morning. Here is your blue muslin--I'll tie your sash when you come
down," and giving Sylvia a kiss her mother hurried away.

"My landy!" whispered Estralla, peering in from the balcony window.
"Your mammy's a angel. An' so is you, Missy. I was gwine tell her the
trufe if she'd scolded, I su'ly was. Landy! I'd a sight ruther be
whipped than have you scolded, Missy."

Sylvia looked at her in astonishment. Estralla, with round serious eyes,
stood gazing at her as if she was ready to do anything that Sylvia could
possibly ask.

"Run. It's all right," said Sylvia with a little smile, and Estralla,
with a backward look over her shoulder, went slowly out of the room.

"I'm gwine to recollect this jes' as long as I live," Estralla whispered
as she made her way back to the kitchen. "Nobuddy ever cared if I was
whipped before, or if I wasn't whipped. An' I'll do somethin' fer Missy