‘I don’t quite like to let you go alone, Laura, without consulting the doctor, and I can’t find him,’ said Mrs. Winship. ‘Why, you are nervous and trembling! Hadn’t you better wait until to-morrow?’ ‘No, thank you, Mrs. Winship. I am all ready now, and would prefer to go. I think perhaps I have stayed quite long enough, as Polly has just told me that everybody is glad to see the last of me, and that I’ve made you all miserable since I came.’ This was the climax to Polly’s misery; for she was already so overcome by the thought of her rudeness that she was on the point of begging Laura’s pardon for that particular speech then and there, and she had only to hear her exact words repeated to feel how they would sound in Mrs. Winship’s ears. Mrs. Winship was so entirely taken aback by Laura’s remark, that she could only ejaculate, ‘Polly—said—that! What do you mean?’ ‘Oh, I am quite ready to think she said more than she intended, but those were her words.’ ‘Polly!’ Polly turned. Alas! it was plain enough that this was no false accusation. Her downcast eyes, flushed, tear-stained cheeks, quivering lips, and the silent shame of her whole figure, spoke too clearly. ‘Can it be possible, Polly, that you spoke in such a way to a guest who was about to leave my house?’ ‘Yes.’ The word was wrung from Polly’s trembling lips. What could she say but ‘Yes,’—it was true,—and how could she repeat the taunts that had provoked her to retort? They were not a sufficient excuse; and for that matter, nothing could be a sufficient excuse for her language. Now that she was confronted with her own fault, Laura’s seemed so small beside it that she would have been ashamed to offer it as any justification. Mrs. Winship grew pale, and for a moment was quite at a loss as to the treatment of such a situation. ‘Don’t say any more about it, Mrs. Winship,’ said Laura; ‘we were both angry, or we should never have forgotten ourselves, and I shall think no more of it.’ Laura spoke with such an air of modest virtue, and seemed so ready to forgive and forget, that Polly in her silence and confusion appeared worse than ever. ‘But I want you to remember that you are my guest, not Pauline’s; that I asked you to come and ask you to remain. I cannot allow you to go simply because you do not chance to be a favourite with another of my guests.’ (Oh! the pang these words gave Polly’s faulty, tender little heart!) ‘I am only going because I feel so ill,—not a bit because of what Polly said; I was in the wrong, too, perhaps, but I promise not to let anybody nor anything make me quarrel when I visit you again. Good-bye!’ and Laura stepped into the wagon.