She covered her face with her hands, and burst into tears.  And all the while a low voice kept whispering in her heart with relentless persistency, till human respect gave way to higher motives.  She glanced up at the picture, turned it around again with a feeling of compunction, and, humbled and contrite, sank on her knees in a little heap upon the floor.

A few moments afterward her mother’s step sounded in the hall.  When one finds a little girl’s cloak flung on the baluster, stumbles over a hood on the stairs, and picks up an odd mitten somewhere else, the evidences are strong that the owner has come home in a hurry.  Mrs. Conwell had, therefore, discovered Annie’s disobedience.  She threw open the door, intending to rebuke her severely; but the sight of the child’s flushed and tear-stained face checked the chiding words upon her lips.

“What is the matter, Annie?” she inquired, somewhat sternly.

“O mother, please don’t scold me!  I’m unhappy enough already,” faltered Annie, beginning to cry again.

Then, as the burden of her miserable little secret had become unendurable, she told the whole story.  Mrs. Conwell looked pained and grave, but her manner was very gentle as she said: 

“Of course, the first thing for you to do is to return what you have unjustly taken.”

Annie gave a little nervous shudder.  “What! go and tell Lucy I stole her doll’s red silk dress?” she exclaimed.  “How could I ever!”

“I do not say it is necessary to do that,” answered her mother; “but you are certainly obliged to restore it.  I should advise you to take it back without delay, and have the struggle over.”

She went away, and left the little girl to reflect upon the matter.  But the more Annie debated with herself, the more difficulty she had in coming to a decision.  Finally she started up, exclaiming,

“The longer I think about it the harder it seems.  I’ll just do it right off.”

She picked up the dress, darted down the stairs, hurriedly prepared to go out, and in a few moments was hastening down the block to the Caryls’.  Lucy saw her coming, and met her at the door.

“Did you get a scolding?  Was your mother very much displeased?” she asked; for she perceived immediately that Annie had been crying, and misinterpreted the cause of her tears.

“Oh, no!—­well, I suppose she was,” hesitated Annie.  “But she did not say much.”

“How did she happen to let you come down here again?” continued Lucy, leading the way to the sitting-room.

Annie cast a quick glance at the table.  The box which contained Christabel and her wardrobe was no longer there.  It was useless, then, to hope for a chance to quietly slip the red dress into it again.

Lucy repeated the question, wondering what had set her playmate’s thoughts a-wool-gathering.

“I’m not going to stay,” began Annie.