“Audrey read the book.”
“With her mother’s approval?”
“I don’t know. She said it was lovely, and she loaned it to me.”
“You knew you were doing wrong not to show it to me before reading it.”
“Yes,” faintly.
“And you knew that you should not have loaned Porter your money without permission.”
“I didn’t think about that, mamma,—I really didn’t,—and I can’t bear to hurt any one’s feelings by refusing to do a favor.”
“My dear little child,” Mrs. Holmes said, “that is one of your greatest dangers, that wanting to have persons think well of you; and in the fear of being censured very often you consent to do what you know to be wrong. Doesn’t it seem to you a much worse thing to disobey and grieve your mother, and to injure yourself by doing wrong, than to yield to the persuasions of any one who is tempting you to do what is not right?”
Mellicent nodded assent.
“A very wise old Roman philosopher has said, ‘He who does wrong does wrong against himself. He who acts unjustly acts unjustly against himself, because he makes himself bad.’ And,” continued Mrs. Holmes, “there is another side of it. You are really hurting a person much more by yielding to his bad suggestion than by bravely standing up for the right, for your good example would probably help him, and your consenting to join in misdoing would injure him.”