"Because, don't you see, those girls may have made foolish remarks, and they will be blamed on me. Just because I was silly enough to believe they could see through a joke. And if you do not tell the story, there can be no further complications. It may be a little hard but, oh, Dorothy! do promise me!" and again Viola grasped both Dorothy's cold hands in hers.
"I certainly would not do anything that would bring trouble on you," reflected Dorothy aloud, "especially if that might worry your poor, sick mother."
"Oh, you darling! I knew you would promise. Now, no matter what Mrs. Pangborn says, promise you will not do more than admit you took the ride—be sure not to say why you took it!"
Dorothy was not suspicious by nature, else she would have seen through the thin veil that hung between Viola and that word "promise." She was using it too frequently for good taste, but she wanted and insisted on getting a real, absolute Promise.
"But it might be rude for me to refuse to tell why we were in the wagon, and at the same time to say we were in it."
"Rude!" echoed Viola. "What small account that would be compared to my dismissal from school."
Dorothy tried to think—just as Viola had planned, she was not able to reason it all out clearly—it was too complicated. The night was getting old, it was ten o'clock and every Glenwood girl was expected to be sleeping honestly, but these two were still far from reaching a satisfactory settlement of their difficulty.
"One thing is certain, Viola," said Dorothy firmly, "I cannot and will not do anything that would seem disrespectful to Mrs. Pangborn. Not only is she a grand, sweet woman, a kind, just teacher, but she was my mother's friend and is still my father's friend. So that it would be impossible for me to do, or say, anything rude to her!"
This was a declaration of principles at last. And Viola for the moment seemed beaten. But girls of her type have more than one loophole in such an emergency.
"I had no idea of asking you to do anything unlady-like," she said with a show of indignation. "It was you who made use of that word. I merely asked that you would, if possible, not make known to Mrs. Pangborn the details of the story. Of course I was foolish to think you would care about their effect upon me, or my dying mother."