"Partly for that, but, still more, to improve us in all sorts of ways. And yet I find I have failed to teach you the very first lesson of all."
"What's that?" asked Phil curiously.
"Obedience, Phil. Your father and mother wish you to tell Miss Witherspoon who threw that marble, and you refuse to obey them."
"I'm not going to tell tales," said Phil sullenly.
Bess rested her hand lightly on the smooth brown head.
"Phil, the first duty you have now is to be guided by your father and mother. They know so much better than you what is right for you. I can see how hard it is for you to give in, in this case. But while a sneak and a tell-tale is the meanest of boys, you would not be either, under these circumstances."
"Yes, I should," answered Phil. "It's a mean thing to do, and the fellows would all be down on me."
"Suppose they were?" replied Bess. "Is it your parents or 'the fellows' that you want to please? I will tell you what one trouble is, Phil; you have read too many stories where the hero nobly bears the punishment for another boy, and is only cleared on the last half-page. Isn't it true?"
Phil laughed, in spite of himself.
"That would be all very well if you had no duty to any one but yourself; but, back of that, you owe obedience to your father and mother, and if they think that you ought to go back into school, that is what you should do. You are too young, my boy, to decide these things for yourself. And it is because we have so many hopes and plans for your future that we want you to do right now, every day. It will be hard for you to go back, but, even if it is, we all want you to go. Will you promise?"