"My mother won't like it," said she.
"Yes, she will."
Mehitable stood as if she and the doll-carriage were anchored to the road.
"I think you're real mean, Mehitable Lamb," said Hannah Maria. "You're a terrible 'fraid cat. I'm goin', anyhow, and I won't bring you a single apple; so there!"
"Don't want any," returned Mehitable, with some spirit. She turned the doll-carriage around. Hannah Maria walked up the road a few steps. Suddenly she faced about. Mehitable had already started homeward.
"Mehitable Lamb!" said she.
Mehitable looked around.
"I s'pose you'll go right straight home and tell my mother just as quick as you can get there."
Mehitable said nothing.
"You'll be an awful telltale if you do."