At the door Edith stopped, and said imploringly to Arthur,
"DO you think I stole it?"
He shook his head, a movement unobserved by Grace, but fraught
with so much happiness for the little girl. She did not heed
Grace's reproaches now, nor care if she was banished to her own
room for the remainder of the day. Arthur believed her innocent;
Uncle Tom believed her innocent, and Rachel believed her innocent,
which last fact was proved by the generous piece of custard pie
hoisted to her window in a small tin pail, said pail being poised
upon the prongs of a long pitch-fork. The act of thoughtful
kindness touched a tender chord in Edith's heart, and the pie
choked her badly, but she managed to eat it all save the crust,
which she tossed into the grass, laughing to see how near it came
to hitting Mrs. Atherton, who looked around to discover whence it
could possibly have come.
That night, just before dark, Grace entered Edith's room, and told
her that as Mr. St. Claire, who left them on the morrow, had
business in New York, and was going directly there, she had
decided to send her with him to the Asylum.
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