“Pauline, dear, are you ready?” called a voice from below.
“I must go,” said Pauline; “but tell me at once, Pen, what you mean.”
“It was the thimble—the lost one,” said Penelope—“the one with the dark-blue top and the light-blue stones round the rim, the goldy thimble which was Aunt Sophy’s.”
In spite of her efforts Pauline did find herself turning white.
“Pauline, dear, we can’t wait any longer,” said Miss Tredgold’s voice.
“I must go,” said Pauline. “Tell me afterwards.”
“Whisper,” said Penelope, pulling her hand. “I have got it. The deep-blue top and the light-blue stones and the goldy middle—I have it all. And I can tell Aunt Sophy, and show it, and I will if—if you don’t tell me about——”
“About what?”
“About that time when three peoples walked across the lawn—the night after your birthday, I mean. Will you tell? I asked Briar, and she said she didn’t know. She told a lie. Are you going to tell a lie, too? If you do I will—— Well, I won’t say any more; only I have put it in the safest of places, and you will never find it. Now you can go down and go out with Aunt Sophy. Now you know, ’cos I’ve told you.”
Pauline slowly left the room. She felt dazed. Once again Miss Tredgold called her. She ran to her washstand, filled her basin with cold water, and dipped her face into it. Then she ran downstairs. She found it difficult to analyze her own sensations, but it seemed to her that through her little sister’s eyes she saw for the first time her own wickedness.