"To go anywhere else ... I should have been against it," I said, "but to the Helmstones—where you let her go so constantly."
Saying that was a mistake.
Did not Betty know, above all, did not I know, the feeling of all the proper sort of mothers about young girls being away from home at night? Day-visiting—a totally different matter.
It was "the last evening for weeks," I reminded her. The Helmstones were going back to town....
"I am not sorry," said my mother.
To my surprise the circumstance that seemed to annoy her most was that I had not gone with Bettina. She spoke to me in such a way I felt the tears come into my eyes. "I stayed on your account," I said.
"I have told you before"—and she told me again.
The supper tray came up, and went down scarcely touched. I asked if I should read to her.
No. There had been reading enough for that day.
So I mended the fire and brought some sewing.