“I didn’t eavesdrop,” she said. “I could have easy. There was a blackberry briar, and I could have stole under it and not minded the scratches, and I could have heard every single word; but I didn’t, ’cos I’m not mean. But I saw you talking to Nancy, what kind Aunt Sophy says you’re not to talk to. Perhaps, seeing you has done what is awful wrong, you’ll give me a penny instead of Aunt Sophy; then I needn’t tell her that you were talking to Nancy when you oughtn’t, and that I think you have got the thimble. Will you give me a penny or will you not?”
Pauline put her hand into her pocket.
“You are a most detestable child,” she said.
“Think so if you like,” said Penelope. “Oh, here’s my penny!”
She snatched at the penny which was reposing on Pauline’s palm.
“Now I’ll go straight off and get John to bring me in some cookies,” she exclaimed.
CHAPTER XIV.
PAULINE CONFESSES.
Pauline was in such a strait that she made up her mind to tell a lie. She had never, so far as she could remember, told an actual and premeditated lie before. Now matters were so difficult, and there seemed such a certainty of there being no other way out, that she resolved to brave the consequences and add to her former sin by a desperate, downright black lie. Accordingly, just before dinner she ran into Verena’s room.