"No: I don't feel at all sure; and, anyhow, I don't want to go up unless you do. I should feel so strange and lonely in the fourth grade all by myself."
"You know all the girls in the fourth grade, don't you?"
"Yes, all the day-scholars; but I don't care much for any of them, except your cousin Winifred. And, anyhow, I don't want to go up unless you do. So, please, Emma, do be careful. You have not had any marks this week yet, have you?"
"Only one," said Emma, rather reluctantly.
"Oh, Emma, how could you?"
"You needn't say anything," said Emma, feeling very much vexed, she hardly knew why. "Lending isn't as bad as stealing, anyway."
Florry turned her head away and looked out of the window, without saying a word.
"There, now, I am sorry I said that," exclaimed Emma. "It was real mean in me. Oh, please, don't cry!" as she peeped round into Florry's face and saw the tears falling from her eyes. "Please do forgive me, Florry, won't you? Oh, I am so sorry. Please do forgive me, and I never, never will say such a word again."
It was not in Florry's nature to be unforgiving; especially where Emma was concerned. Truth to say, her forgiving nature was called into exercise pretty often; for Emma was one of those people who say whatever they happen to think at the moment, without regard to consequences; which would be all very well, if one were sure always of thinking what it was right to say.
Florry "made up friends" with Emma, as she had done a hundred times before; but never had any one of Emma's hasty speeches wounded her like this. It is comparatively easy to bear unjust faultfinding. It is the true reproach which stings.