"I don't care," said Almira, sulkily, "I will find out all about it, yet,—see if I don't, if I have to listen at the door."
"There will be no occasion to see if you don't, since we shall all be sure to hear if you do," said Belle. "But I advise you not to let Mrs. Pomeroy catch you listening. She does not admire the pursuit of knowledge under such circumstances."
Delia slept till nine o'clock, and awoke so much refreshed and composed, that Mrs. Pomeroy no longer feared to question her on the events of the past night. She concealed nothing, but related the whole affair from the very beginning at the Classical Gymnasium; where the correspondence commenced, to its close, screening Emily as much as possible, and taking the whole blame upon herself.
"But I do not understand, Emily, why you did not refuse to have any participation in the matter," said Mrs. Pomeroy. "You might at least have done that, if your false ideas of honor and friendship prevented you from revealing the secret. It was not what I would have expected from you. I had a good deal of confidence in your good principles."
"Your confidence was sadly misplaced," said poor Emily. "I had a secret of my own, even worse than Delia's." She felt that the time had come for her to lay down the burden which had weighed on her so long, and with many tears, she confessed all her faults from that first one of making "a bill at the store," to the last and most disgraceful ending.
Mrs. Pomeroy was excessively shocked. She had never dreamed of such a thing as that the money should have been taken by one of the young ladies, and she could hardly believe her ears when she heard that such was the case.
Emily concluded by saying, "Ever since I was sick, I have made up my mind to confess at all hazards, and I was only waiting to have one more talk with Delia to try and persuade her to join me. I am ready to tell the story before the whole school, if you wish me to do so."
"There would be no good, but a great deal of harm in that," replied Mrs. Pomeroy. "The whole matter has died away now, and there is no use in recalling it. I think it will be necessary to tell Kitty, but we can rely upon her discretion as much as if she were fifty years old. The poor child will be terribly shocked, for she almost worshipped you, Emily."
"I have been thinking," said Emily in a low voice, "that I ought to write and tell my father."
"There is some good in her yet," thought Mrs. Pomeroy, "or she would never propose such a step of her own accord." "You are quite right in thinking so," she said aloud. "It is one of the best proofs you can give of your sincere repentance."