“Not at all,” Azalea declared; “I wasn’t mixed up with anybody unpleasant at all.  In fact, I talked to no one but the Bixbys and Mr. Merritt.  Mrs. Bixby was most kind and looked after me as a mother might have done,—­though I never knew a mother’s care.”

The pretty face grew sad, and the whole attitude of Azalea was so penitent and full of resolve to be more like the people she admired that all of Patty’s lingering resentment fled away.  She put the baby in her father’s arms, and she flew over to Azalea and gave her an embrace of full and free forgiveness and affection.

“It’s all right, Zaly,” she said, smiling at her, “you did cut up jinks with my baby,—­but when you came home to look after her,—­even when you thought I was here,—­and when you put up such a great game to rescue her from the enemy’s clutches,—­and succeeded,—­well,—­I’m for you!”

Patty spoke so whole-heartedly there was no doubt of her sincerity, and Azalea looked grateful and pleased,—­yet, she looked troubled too.

“Oh, Patty, you’re too good to me,” she said, “you don’t know—­I don’t deserve your faith and loyalty.”

“Oh, I ’spect you do,” and Patty caressed the shining brown hair.

“No,—­I’m all unworthy—­”

“I suppose you mean about that sampler business,” put in Elise, with an unkind look on her face.  “I think you ought to confess that,—­while you’re confessing.”

Farnsworth gave a reproving glance at Elise, but he said, “Out with it, Zaly,—­let’s clean off the slate while we’re about it.  What’s the sampler business that sticks in Elise’s throat?”

He sounded so sympathetic and helpful that Azalea spoke up bravely.

“I did do wrong, Bill, but I didn’t realise how wrong when I was doing it.  I had an old sampler and it was dated 1836 and I picked out some stitches so it looked like 1636.”

“You didn’t deceive anybody!” exclaimed Elise.

“I’m glad of it,” returned Azalea, simply.  “I was too ignorant to know that there were no samplers made at that earlier date,—­and to tell the truth, I didn’t think much about it,—­I just did it hastily,—­on a sudden impulse,—­because I wanted to give Elise something worth-while for her booth at the fair.”

“And gave me something utterly worthless!” scoffed Elise.

“Oh, come now, Elise,” said Farnsworth, “it didn’t hurt your sales any, even if it didn’t help them.  Call it a joke and let it go at that.”

“But it was deceitful, Cousin William,” said Azalea, “and I do confess it, and I’m sorry as I can be about it.”

Her pretty face was troubled and she looked so disturbed that Phil took up the cudgels for her.

“Oh, come off, all of you,” he said, laughingly, “this isn’t a court of inquiry, and we’re not sitting in judgment on Azalea.  She has properly admitted all her escapades, and she’s been forgiven by the ones most interested, now let’s call it a day,—­and talk about something else.”