“Oh, go ‘long!  I don’ b’lieve Miss Gracie didn’t do no sich ting!” returned Agnes.

“She did den, I seed her,” asserted the little maid positively.  “Mebbe she heerd de mices runnin’ ’round an want ole Tab for to ketch ’em.”

“You go ’long and ‘tend to yo’ wuk.  Bet, you lazy niggah,” responded Agnes, pushing past her.  “Miss Wilet an Miss Gracie dey’ll min’ dere own consarns widout none o’ yo’ help.”

The child made no reply, but stole on tiptoe after Agnes.

Violet was coming up the front stairway, and reached the door of her dressing-room, just in advance of the girl.  Opening it she exclaimed at the powerful perfume which greeted her nostrils, then catching sight of the bottle lying in fragments on the floor.

“Who can have done this?” she asked in a tone of surprise not wholly free from displeasure.

“De cat, mos’ likely, Miss Wilet,” said Agnes, setting down her basket and glancing at puss who was stretched comfortably on the rug before the fire.  “I s’pect she’s been running ober de bureau, like I see her do, mor’n once ‘fo’ dis.”

“She looks very quiet now,” remarked Violet, “and if she did the mischief it was certainly not intentional.  But don’t leave her shut up here again, Agnes.”

“She didn’t do it, Agnes didn’t,” volunteered Betty, who had stolen in after them; “it was Miss Gracie, Miss Wilet, I seed her ketch ole Tab out in de hall dere, and put her in hyar, an’ shut de do onto her, an’ go off up-stairs.”

A suspicion of the truth flashed into Violet’s mind; but she put it resolutely from her; she would not believe Gracie capable of slyness and deceit.

But she wanted the little girl, and sent Betty up with a message to that effect, bidding her make haste, and as soon as she had attended to that errand, brush up the broken glass and put it in the fire.

Betty ran nimbly up to the play-room, and putting her head in at the door, said with a grin, “Miss Gracie, yo’ ma wants you down in de dressin’-room.”

“What for?” asked Gracie, with a frightened look.

“Dunno, s’pect you fin’ out when you gits dar.”

“Betty, you’re a saucy thing,” said Lulu.

“S’pect mebbe I is, Miss Lu,” returned the little maid with a broader grin than before, apparently considering the remark quite complimentary, while she held the door open for Gracie to pass out.

“Miss Gracie,” she asked, as she followed Grace down the stairs, “what fo’ you shut ole Tab up in de dressin’-room?  She’s done gone an’ broke Miss Wilet’s bottle what hab de stuff dat smell so nice, an’ cose Miss Wilet she don’ like dat ar.”

“What makes you say I put her in there, Betty?” said Gracie.

“Kase I seed you, he, he, he!”

“Did you?” asked Gracie, looking still more alarmed than at the summons to the dressing-room.  “Don’t tell mamma, Betty.  I’ll give you a penny and help you make a frock for your doll if you won’t.”