How could Muriel explain that it had only been one little pink sweet, the smallest of the sweets, not even the fat round one with an almond on it?
They made their escape as soon as possible, Muriel and her shamed, unhappy mother.
The drive home was almost the worst of all.
"Muriel, how could you be so naughty, dear? How could you disappoint me so?"
Fat tears ran down Muriel's cheeks, and dripped on to the collar of her scarlet cloak.
Because her mother had forgotten that she had to ride outside, half-way home, Muriel began to feel sick. But she dared say nothing, for all that she could say must be used as evidence against her.
"I never thought that my little Muriel could be so naughty and so greedy. Didn't you know that people at parties don't go and eat up all the supper? I don't know what Mrs. Marshall Gurney will think."
It was dreadful.
But how could she explain that it had only been the smallest sweet?
When they reached home, Connie was bobbing up and down on her bed in the firelit nursery.