ON the Monday evening before the picnic Marilla came down from her room with a troubled face.
'Anne,' she said to that small personage, who was shelling peas by the spotless table and singing, 'Nelly of the Hazel Dell' with a vigor and expression that did credit to Diana’s teaching, 'did you see anything of my amethyst brooch?
I thought I stuck it in my pincushion when I came home from church yesterday evening, but I can’t find it anywhere. ' 'I—I saw it this afternoon when you were away at the Aid Society,' said Anne, a little slowly.
'I was passing your door when I saw it on the cushion, so I went in to look at it. ' 'Did you touch it? ' said Marilla sternly.
'Y-e-e-s,' admitted Anne, 'I took it up and I pinned it on my breast just to see how it would look. ' 'You had no business to do anything of the sort. It’s very wrong in a little girl to meddle.
You shouldn’t have gone into my room in the first place and you shouldn’t have touched a brooch that didn’t belong to you in the second. Where did you put it? ' 'Oh, I put it back on the bureau. I hadn’t it on a minute.
Truly, I didn’t mean to meddle, Marilla. I didn’t think about its being wrong to go in and try on the brooch; but I see now that it was and I’ll never do it again. That’s one good thing about me.
I never do the same naughty thing twice. ' 'You didn’t put it back,' said Marilla. 'That brooch isn’t anywhere on the bureau. You’ve taken it out or something, Anne. ' 'I did put it back,' said Anne quickly—pertly, Marilla thought.
'I don’t just remember whether I stuck it on the