Susy was not willing; indeed, she was very much frightened, and begged her mother to excuse her in some way to Mrs. Lovejoy, or, if that would not do, to go herself and explain the matter for her.
But, as it was Susy's own affair, Mrs. Parlin wished to have as little to do with it as possible. Besides, she considered it a good opportunity to teach Susy a lesson in moral courage.
Susy started very reluctantly.
"I'm afraid Mrs. Lovejoy will scold real sharp," said she. " What shall I do? O, mother, I didn't see Annie eat all the cake; I didn't watch. How do I know but she gave some crumbs to the cat? Can't I—can't I say, I guess the cat ate it?"
"Susy!" said Mrs. Parlin, sternly, "are you more afraid of displeasing Mrs. Lovejoy than you are of displeasing God? All that is required of you is the simple truth. Merely say to Annie's mother just what you have said to me; that you saw Annie eating cake several times, though there was no harm in it, and you did not call her either a thief or a liar. Speak respectfully, but decidedly; and when you have said all that is necessary, leave her politely, and come home."
Susy called up all her courage when she entered Mrs. Lovejoy's house, and saw that lady sitting very erect on a sofa, with a bleak face, which looked somehow as if a north-east wind had blown over it, and frozen it.
"Well, little girl," said she, without waiting for ceremony, "so you call my Annie all the bad names you can think of, it seems. Is that the way you are brought up?"
"I didn't call her names, ma'am; she ate the cake, but I was willing," replied Susy, calmly and respectfully, though she trembled from head to foot. There was one thought which sustained Susy; she was telling the truth, and that was just what God wanted her to do.
"Well," said Mrs. Lovejoy, "I must say you're a dignified little piece! Do you know you've done the same thing as to tell me I lie?"
This was just the way Annie had spoken; warping innocent words, and making them the occasion of a quarrel.