could testify to the little girl's carefulness and the neatness of her work up to that very day, for she had been in the school-room that morning during the writing hour. But then Adelaide had just left home to pay a visit to a friend living at some distance, and would not return for several weeks, so there was little danger from that quarter. Miss Day, to be sure, knew the appearance of Elsie's book quite as well, but there was still less danger of her interference, and he was pretty certain no one else knew.
So he decided to run the risk, and laying down the book he took the key, went to the door, looked carefully up and down the hall to make sure of not being seen by any of the servants, and having satisfied himself on that point, hurried to the school-room, unlocked Elsie's desk, took out her copy-book, and dipping a pen in the ink, proceeded deliberately to blot nearly every page in it; on some he made a large blot, on others a small one, and on some two or three; and also scribbled between the lines and on the margin, so as completely to deface poor Elsie's work.
But to do Arthur justice, though he knew his brother would be pretty sure to be very angry with Elsie, he did not know of the threatened punishment. He stopped once or twice as he thought he heard a footstep, and shut down the lid until it had passed, when he raised it again and went on with his wicked work. It did not take long, however, and he soon replaced the copy-book in the precise spot in which he had found it, wiped the pen, and put it carefully back in its place, relocked the desk, hurried back to Elsie's room, put the key just where he had found it, and taking the book, returned to the nursery without having met any one.
He threw himself down on a couch and tried to read, but in vain; he could not fix his attention upon the page—could think of nothing but the mischief he had done, and its probable consequences; and now, when it was too late, he more than half repented; yet as to confessing and thus saving Elsie from unmerited blame, he did not for a single moment entertain the thought. But at length it suddenly occurred to him that if it became known that he had been into Elsie's room to get the book he might be suspected; and he started up with the intention of replacing it. But he found that it was too late; she had already returned, for he heard her voice in the hall; so he lay down again, and kept the book until she came in search of it.
He looked very guilty as the little girl came in, but not seeming to notice it, she merely said, "I am looking for my book. I thought perhaps some one might have brought it in here. Oh! you have it, Arthur! well, keep it, if you wish; I can read it just as well another time."
"Here, take it," said he roughly, pushing it toward her; "I don't want it; 'tisn't a bit pretty."
"I think it is very interesting, and you are quite welcome to read it if you wish," she answered mildly; "but if you don't care to, I will take it."
"Young ladies and gentlemen," said the governess, as they were about closing their exercises the next morning, "this is the regular day for the reports, and they are all made out. Miss Elsie, here is yours; bring your copy-book, and carry both to your papa."
Elsie obeyed, not without some trembling, yet hoping, as there was but one bad mark in the report and the copy-book showed such evident marks of care and painstaking, her papa would not be very seriously displeased.
It being the last day of the term, the exercises of the morning had varied somewhat from the usual routine, and the writing hour had been entirely omitted; thus it happened that Elsie had not opened her copy-book, and was in consequence still in ignorance of its sadly altered appearance.
She found her father in his room. He took the report first from her hand, and glancing over it, said with a slight frown, "I see you have one very bad mark for recitation; but as there is only one, and the others are remarkably good, I will excuse it."
Then taking the copy-book and opening it, much to Elsie's surprise and alarm he gave her a glance of great displeasure, turned rapidly over the leaves, then laying it down, said in his sternest tones, "I see I shall have to keep my promise, Elsie."
"What, papa?" she asked, turning pale with terror.
"What!" said he! "do you ask me what? Did I not tell you positively that I would punish you if your copy-book this month did not present a better appearance than it did last?"
"O papa! does it not? I tried so very hard; and there are no blots in it."
"No blots?" said he; "what do you call these?" and he turned over the leaves again, holding the book so that she could see them, and showing that almost every one was blotted in several places.
Elsie gazed at them in unfeigned astonishment; then looking up into his face, she said earnestly but fearfully, "Papa, I did not do it."
"Who did, then?" he asked.
"Indeed, papa, I do not know," she replied.
"I must inquire into this business," he said, rising, "and if it is not your fault you shall not be punished; but if I find you have been telling me a falsehood, Elsie, I shall punish you much more severely than if you had not denied your fault."
And taking her by the hand as he spoke, he led her back to the school-room.
"Miss Day," said he, showing the book, "Elsie says these blots are not her work; can you tell me whose they are?"
"Miss Elsie generally tells the truth, sir," replied Miss Day, sarcastically, "but I must say that in this instance I think she has failed, as her desk has a good lock, and she herself keeps the key."
"Elsie," he asked, turning to her, "is this so?"
"Yes, papa."
"And have you ever left your desk unlocked, or the key lying about?"
"No, papa. I am quite certain I have not," she answered unhesitatingly, though her voice trembled, and she grey very pale.
"Very well, then, I am quite certain you have told me a falsehood, since it is evident this must have been your work. Elsie, I can forgive anything but falsehood, but that I never will forgive. Come with me. I shall teach you to speak the truth to me at least, if to no one else," and taking her hand again, he led, or rather dragged, her from the room, for he was terribly angry, his face fairly pale with passion.
Lora came in while he was speaking and, certain that Elsie would never be caught in a falsehood, her eye quickly sought Arthur's desk.
He was sitting there with a very guilty countenance.
She hastily crossed the room, and speaking in a low tone, said, "Arthur, you have had a hand in this business I very well know; now confess it quickly, or Horace will half kill Elsie."
"You don't know anything about it," said he doggedly.
"Yes, I do," she answered; "and if you do not speak out at once, I shall save Elsie, and find means to prove your guilt afterwards; so you had much better confess."
"Go away," he exclaimed angrily, "I have nothing to confess."
Seeing it was useless to try to move him, Lora turned away and hurried to Horace's room, which, in her haste, she entered without knocking, he having fortunately neglected to fasten the door. She was just in time; he had a small riding whip in his hand, and Elsie stood beside him pale as death, too much frightened even to cry, and trembling so that she could scarcely stand.
He turned an angry glance on his sister as she entered; but taking no notice of it, she exclaimed eagerly, "Horace, don't punish Elsie, for I am certain she is innocent."
He laid down the whip asking, "How do you know it? what proof have you? I shall be very glad to be convinced," he added, his countenance relaxing somewhat in its stern and angry expression.
"In the first place," replied his sister, "there is Elsie's established character for truthfulness—in all the time she has been with us, we have ever found her perfectly truthful in word and deed. And then, Horace, what motive could she have had for spoiling her book, knowing as she did that certain punishment would follow? Besides, I am sure Arthur is at the bottom of this, for though he will not acknowledge, he does not deny it. Ah! yes, and now I recollect, I saw and examined Elsie's