Sobbing so that she could hardly speak, Mary told her mother the story.
"It is one of the most shameful things I ever heard of!" said Mrs. Willis. "How could you join in such a piece of wickedness?"
"I did not say anything, mamma," sobbed Mary.
"No, but by your silence, you consented to what Jane said, when you might have prevented all this trouble by speaking."
"I was going to tell Aunt Mary at first, but the girls pulled me back and would not let me," said Mary, hanging her head.
"Would not let you!" repeated Mrs. Willis. "How did they hinder you?"
Mary had no answer ready, and her mother continued:
"Where was Helen Arnold? I should have expected something better of her."
"She was not there, mamma," replied Mary, eagerly. "She went away before Jane began. She wanted me to go with her, but I was vexed and would not. Oh, if I had only minded her!"
"If you had only minded your own conscience and your own sense of what was right, you would not have needed Helen to keep you out or mischief," said Mrs. Willis. "If you had had one thought of doing as you would be done by, you would not have allowed a wicked, silly girl to send your aunt and your poor lame cousin Willie on such an errand."