296 THE LAND OF PLUCK

“Who picked that rose?” she asked sternly.

Gerty held the flower so tightly that it was all crushed ;
but none of us answered.

“Did you pick it, Gerty ?” asked Miss Ellis, in a sorrow-
ful tone.

“’Ks ; Gerty picked it,” replied Gerty, backing toward us
as she spoke.

“Then Gerty has been disobedient. Gerty must be
punished.”

The frightened little creature began to cry. Marie and
T held our breaths. Miss Ellis took her up to one of the
garret rooms; it had nothing in it but an old chair and a
doll, which lay upon the floor. It was a gloomy room, with
only one window, and that was so high up that we never
could look out of it without glimbing up on something.

Gerty sobbed bitterly when Miss Ellis told her, as they
started for this room, that she must stay there alone for five
minutes, and we felt half tempted to follow and rescue
her by main force. But when we heard our governess shut
the door of the lonely room, and walk away, we ran down
into the front hall as fast as our legs could carry us.

It was now nearly church-time, the bells were ringing,
and as we stood on the front stoop, waiting for Miss Ellis
to join us, we saw the people walking quietly on their way
to church. We felt sorry for Gerty, but tried to comfort
ourselves with the secret falsehood that we could n’t help
it. “Pshaw!” I thought, “it was only a rose, after all;
there ’s no harm done.” “It was disobedience, too, and
you should have saved your little sister from the act,”
whispered something within me; but I hushed the voice,