"I should think you did!" said Jane, scornfully. "I don't see how your mother can encourage them. I do despise beggars!"
"Two of a trade never agree, oh, Martha?" said Cora.
"What do you mean by that, Cora Hart?" asked Jane, angrily.
But Cora only laughed scornfully and did not answer.
"Well, for my part, I think it was a real mean trick!" said Julia Davis. "Sending the poor woman all the way up that steep hill to an empty house. I wish I had just told her the truth."
"Why didn't you, then?" asked Jane. "Nobody hindered you, Miss Tell-tale; only just let me catch you getting me into a scrape, that's all!"
Julia turned away and went into her own gate without saying a word. She felt very much ashamed of herself, for she knew she had been a coward—she had been afraid to do what she knew was right.
Mary also felt uneasy as she went home. She had been taught her duty towards her neighbor, and she knew right from wrong. All the time she was eating her nice supper, she thought of the poor woman with her little lame boy toiling up the steep road only to find an empty house.
"Helen Arnold would never have done such a thing!" she said to herself, and she wished over and over again that she had gone with Helen.
It was a pleasant, dry evening, and after tea, Mrs. Willis took her work and sat down in a garden chair on the green lawn. Mary stood by her with her doll, but she did not feel like playing or talking. Her conscience troubled her more and more, and she felt very unhappy.