going to her; at least I think I am; I don't know if I dare.'

'Why not?' said Rosalie. 'Are you frightened of your mother?'

'No, I'm not frightened of her,' said the girl; 'but I've been so bad to
her, I'm almost ashamed to go back. She doesn't know where I am now. I
expect she has had no sleep since I ran away.'

'When did you run away?' asked the child.

'It will be three weeks ago now,' said Jessie mournfully; 'but it seems
more like three months. I never was so wretched in all my life before; I've
cried myself to sleep every night.'

'Whatever made you leave your mother?' said Rosalie.

'It was that circus; it came to the next town to where we lived. All the
girls in the village were going to it, and I wanted to go with them, and my
mother wouldn't let me.'

'Why not?'

'She said I should get no good there--that there were a great many bad
people went to such places, and I was better away.'

'Then how did you see it?' said Rosalie.

'I didn't see it that day; and at night the girls came home, and told me
all about it, and what a fine procession it was, and how the ladies were
dressed in silver and gold, and the gentlemen in shining armour. And then I