“And she is Laura’s child—my poor Laura, who was honor and honesty itself!
“You don’t know, dear, what a bitter thing this is to me. Poor Laura! what if she knows?”
“But what shall we do, mamsie, dear? Are we just to keep still, and let her win the medal, and let every one think she has beaten fairly, or will you tell her what we know?”
“Will you go away now,” Mrs. Mason said, “and come back again before breakfast? I don’t want to say any thing until I am quite sure what it is best to do.”
When Laura came again, Mrs. Mason had settled upon her course of action, or rather of inaction.
“Don’t be vexed, girlie,” she said to Laura; “I know it will seem hard to you to be beaten unfairly; but there are things of more consequence even than that. The thing that seems to me most important, just now, is to know what Helen’s character really is. If she is not utterly unworthy of her mother, she will repent before the thing comes to an end. If she does not, it will be time enough to think what to do next.”
“And I must let her beat unfairly, and never say one word?” Laura asked, with a little strain of rebellion in her voice.
“Yes, if you are the obedient and generous Laura I like to believe you.”
“Mamsie, you have a flattering tongue, and you always get your way.”