“Lucia Horton dropped it on purpose!” she said. “I know she did.”
“And nobody asked her to come to our party,” added Anna; “’twas rude of her to come.”
Mrs. Weston looked in astonishment at her two little daughters.
“Not ask Lucia?” she questioned, and listened to Rebby’s explanation: that, because of the Hortons’ store of dainties, and their scorn of the simple fare of their neighbors, Rebby had decided not to ask Lucia to her party.
But when the little girl had finished her story, Mrs. Weston shook her head disapprovingly.
“I am not pleased with you, Rebecca,” she said. “’Twas not a kind thought to sit in judgment and decide to punish a friend for something that is no fault of hers. Lucia did right to come. Of course she thought you would welcome her.”
“She didn’t! She didn’t!” exclaimed Rebby. “She made up faces at me, and said—”
“Never mind, Rebecca. You see what comes from quarreling. Your mug is broken, Lucia’s dress is spoiled, and you had no pleasure from the afternoon. Now, there is something for you to do to put this straight. You must take off your pinafore, put on your sunbonnet, and go straight to Mrs. Horton’s and ask Lucia’s pardon.”
“Oh, Mother!” wailed Rebby. “It isn’t fair. It isn’t my fault.”
But Mrs. Weston was firm. From Rebby’s own story her mother decided that she had been unfair to Lucia; she did not ask if Rebby had purposely spilled the honey on Lucia’s muslin dress, but she felt it was not the time to allow any ill feeling among the families of the settlement, and that Rebecca’s failure to ask the Hortons to come with the other neighbors to taste the wild honey could easily offend them.