For:--
"Oh, miss," cried Loveday, "I do beg your pardon ..." Then, seeing by
the young lady's pleasant face that she had not offended by her
clumsiness--"but I was so sick with misery I didn't rightly see where
I was going."
"Why, whatever is the matter, Loveday?" asked the lively girl.
"Miss, I can't tell you, not now, but oh, miss, you've always been good
to me, will you do something for me? I've never asked you for nothing
before, have I?"
"Why, no, you have not, Loveday. What is it?"
"Have you such a thing as an old white sash you could let me have, miss?
I just can't rightly tell you how I want it. It don't matter how old, so
I can wash and iron it. Oh, miss...?"
Letitia thought for a moment, then shook her brown ringlets.
"I'm so sorry, Loveday, since you want it so much, but the only white
sash I have is my new one for Flora Day. I have an old black one I could
let you have though."
"Black! Oh, Miss Letitia, that's no good. Couldn't you let me have the
white one? I'll work and work to make the money to buy you another, and
your mother'd get you a new one for the Flora."
"Loveday, you know I couldn't. Mamma would insist on knowing what I'd
done with it, you know she would."
"You couldn't--you couldn't say you'd lost it, miss?" asked Loveday,
even her tongue faltering at the suggestion.
But though Letitia might be a romp, she was not a deceitful girl, and
she respected her mother.
"Oh, Loveday, how can you suggest such a thing? It would be telling
mamma a lie.
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