“But what did you say when your name was called? You did not tell an untruth, Marcus?” said Hatty, anxiously.
“No, indeed!” said Marcus, indignantly. “I am above that!”
“I don’t understand it at all,” said Hatty, uneasily.
“Why, this was the way. When Mr. Briggs called over the names for punctuality, some how or other his attention wandered just before he got to my name, and he skipped it, so I did not have to answer at all. After Mr. Briggs went out I looked at my name, and there was a cross after it for punctual; so you see it is all right, and my chance for the prize is as good as ever.”
“I would rather have a brother who told the truth, than one who got the prize,” said Hatty, earnestly. “Dear Marcus, won’t you tell Mr. Briggs about it?”
“I shall do no such thing. Girls are so silly! You never can make them understand anything,” said Marcus, hastily.
But Hatty did understand. She felt that Marcus had acted a lie for the sake of winning the prize he so greatly desired. She knew he would be angry if she said anything more about it; but she could not be silent and let him do wrong, without one more effort. After a moment, in which she asked God to help her to keep down her own quick temper if Marcus should make a harsh reply, Hatty said:
“Marcus, you know what mother tells us about the book where what we call secret things are written down, to be read on the great day when all things will be known. Something will stand against your name, there, worse than a mark for being unpunctual. Dear Marcus, do tell the truth, and not mind the prize. You will not care about the prize when you are happy with the beautiful angels in Heaven; but you will love to remember how you did right, when it came so very hard.”
It had cost Hatty a great effort to say all this, and now she burst into tears.
“Girls are so silly!” said Marcus, impatiently. “I wish you would not set up to lecture me, Miss?” and the brother walked angrily away.