'I don't know what you're making all this fuss about,' said Molly; 'I'm not a sneak.'
'Have a piece of cake, miss,' said Mrs. Williams, 'and give me your word it shan't go any further.'
'I don't want your cake; you'd better give it to Clements. It's she that tells things—not me.'
Molly began to cry.
'There, I declare, miss, I'm sorry I shook you, but I was that put out. There! I ask your pardon; I can't do more. You wouldn't get poor Clements into trouble, I'm sure.'
'Of course I wouldn't; you might have known that.'
Well, peace was restored; but Molly wouldn't have any cake.
That evening Jane wore a new silver brooch, shaped like a horseshoe, with an arrow through it.
It was after tea, when Uncle Toodlethwaite was gone, that Molly, creeping quietly out to see the pigs fed, came upon her aunt at the end of the hollyhock walk. Her aunt was sitting on the rustic seat that the crimson rambler rose makes an arbour over. Her handkerchief was held to her face with both hands, and her thin shoulders were shaking with sobs.
