One hot day he went out shopping with her, and he observed
that she was tired and strange in her manner, although she was not
ill, or, at least, not so ill as he had often before seen her. The
few purchases they had to make at the draper's were completed, and
they went out into the street. He took her hand-bag, and, in doing
so, it opened and he saw to his horror a white silk pocket-
handkerchief crumpled up in it, which he instantly recognised as one
which had been shown him five minutes before, but he had not bought.
The next moment a hand was on his shoulder. It was that of an
assistant, who requested that they would both return for a few
minutes. As they walked the half dozen steps back, the father's
resolution was taken. "I am sixty," he thought to himself, "and she
is fourteen." They went into the counting-house and he confessed
that he had taken the handkerchief, but that it was taken by mistake
and that he was about to restore it when he was arrested. The poor
girl was now herself again, but her mind was an entire blank as to
what she had done, and she could not doubt her father's statement,
for it was a man's handkerchief and the bag was in his hands. The
draper was inexorable, and as he had suffered much from petty thefts
of late, had determined to make an example of the first offender whom
he could catch. The father was accordingly prosecuted, convicted and
sentenced to imprisonment.
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