But Tilderee related the occurrence herself as soon as
her mother returned.
"Fudge and me broke Joan's beauty doll. We didn't mean to, and we're
awful sorry,--honest and true we are!"
"But that will not mend Angelina," said Mrs. Prentiss, gravely.
Tilderee hung her head. She now realized for the first time, that no
matter how grieved we are, we can not always repair the wrong we have
done. The mother, though a plain, uneducated woman, had plenty of good
sense, and did her best to train her children well. She now talked
very seriously to her little daughter, and Tilderee promised to be less
meddlesome and more obedient in the future.
"Fudge and me wants to be good," she said, penitently; "but we forgets.
P'rhaps if we were other folks, and our names were something else
'sides Tilderee and Fudge, we might be better."
"I'm afraid Fudge is a hard case," sighed her mother, restraining a
smile; "and I should not like to see my little girl changed into any
one else. But I expect we ought to call you as you were christened,
and that is Matilda. It is a saint's name, you know; and you can pray
to your name saint to help you.
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