The White Lily. 23

“No; it is an ugly flower,” answered Ruby. “I
only plucked it to see if what we had been told was
true. As you say, it is not true, and so I suppose we
may just pick as many flowers as ever we like.”

“Of course, Mother Earth did say that we should
be punished if we picked the flowers,” murmured
Pearl, ruefully ; “but if-we know better, why need we
remember what she said?”

Pearl looked wistfully at all the many glorious
blossoms that were opening their hearts to the sun-
shine, and, as she looked, a grey shadow overspread
her own face in place of the brightness that had
always been there, and her sweet eyelids drooped.

“Pearl, Pearl! what is the matter?” cried Ruby.
“Why do you look so strange?”

Pearl shook herself as though she were trying to
awake from a dream. “I don’t Know,” she said. “I
don’t know what is the matter with me; but I don’t
feel the same as I felt a little while ago. Do you
feel the same, Ruby?”

Ruby seemed to consider. “I don’t know,” he

D