"Poor child!" she said gently, "it has been very bad for you, but it is all over now, and you will do better in future."
"Oh, auntie, how can I?" she exclaimed, as she thought what a different reply her mother would have made.
"I must tell Miss Elgin," she said resolutely; "and I suppose all the girls must know, and Julia, and—and father and mother."
"Do you think that necessary, dear? You are very sorry, I am sure. Is not that enough?"
"Nothing can make it right, I know, auntie; but I cannot, and will not, deceive them any longer."
Ruth burst into a fit of hysterical crying, and was only quieted by her aunt's promise to go with her that very day to call upon Miss Elgin.
"Poor Ruth seems quite ill," said Mrs. Woburn at breakfast-time. "I persuaded her to stay in bed a little while, and I think she will be better soon. She has made quite a confession to me."
"What was it about?" inquired Julia.
Then, according to her niece's wish, she repeated the whole story, concluding with the remark that, after all, it was not quite such a serious matter as the poor child seemed to think. She remembered that girls used to copy when she went to school, and they worked so hard now that it really was somewhat excusable.
"You would think it was serious if you heard Ruth denounce it," was Julia's reply. "She could never say enough against it, and pretended to be so much better than any of us. To think of her having looked over me! I couldn't have believed it!"