“So I will,” said Susan earnestly; “and then will you forgive me?”
“Oh, I don’t know about that!” said Sophia Jane, shaking her head till the frill of her cap trembled. “You see it was so very bad of you.”
“I know,” said Susan humbly. Then venturing to glance at Sophia Jane’s face she was surprised to see a sudden little smile appear, and to hear her exclaim:
“At any rate there’s one thing! They’ll never be able to say again, ‘try to be as good as Susan,’ because you’ve been much naughtier now than I’ve ever been!”
She chuckled softly to herself, and then said—suddenly and sharply:
“Why don’t you write the letter?”
It was not the least part of Susan’s punishment to be treated as a child who could not be trusted. But she bore it patiently, fetched her desk, and wrote the words sternly dictated by Sophia Jane. The latter then requested that she might read the letter, and having done so watched while Susan directed the envelope and put a stamp on it. Then she said:
“Give it me,” and immediately pushed it under her pillow.
“Sha’n’t I post it?” asked Susan humbly.
“Certainly not!” said Sophia Jane decidedly. “That would be a pretty thing indeed!”