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 away. We came to the little apricot-tree, and stopped before it as usual; the six apricots were now quite ripe. Lucy was quite sure her father would gather them that day, and hoped he would give one to us.

We were just about to pass on, when, O sad mischance! a ripe one fell heavily from the highest branch at our feet, and broke nearly in half with the force of the fall. It was not one of the six, we counted them, and all were in their places; a tuft of spleenwort grew out of the wall just where it fell from; behind that and some leaves this apricot must have ripened, and been entirely concealed.

Before we knew what we were about, Lucy had picked it up and divided it. 'Look,' she said, 'father does not know of this, and the wasps would spoil it before he came out; eat thy half, and I will eat mine.' She put it into my hand, and I immediately tasted it and ate it.

I cannot say that even in eating that apricot was nice to the taste; it was imbittered by conscience; and hot as the morning was, it did not refresh me.

A short silence followed; we remained standing before the apricot-tree; then, without looking each other in the face, we moved slowly to the door into the wilderness.

Broken rules and regulations began to rush back into my recollection, with shame, and repentance, and regret, till Lucy, suddenly bursting into tears, and exclaiming, 'O, I am so sorry, Sophia! I am so sorry I gave it thee! 'I turned to look at her, and saw in her hand the other half of the apricot. Her face was crimsoned through agitation, the cause of it was Rh