"But he didn't mean—" I murmured. "Didn't mean to rob you! My dear, he meant to get a certain amount of money somehow; he cared very little how. What you might lose or suffer was quite a small matter. Kitty,—if I could open your eyes to understand him!" I had a sort of side-peep of mother putting her head round the door, and going away again. It flurried me so, I didn't know what to say. And I was angry with Mary too. Why must she make the very worst of everything to do with Walter? "He meant to bring it back to me," I said. "To bring back the watch! After he had sold it!" "Perhaps he didn't really quite sell it," I whispered. "He sold it, quite and really," says she. "How could he sell it only half? You are fighting against truth, trying to believe in him still," says she. "Will anything persuade you, short of coming to the jeweller's with me?" I said "O no!" to that. "No, you don't want to go—is that it? Then will you take my word? He sold the watch and chain for more money than he was in need of, and spent a lot in useless nothings. That is Walter all over! Do you think I don't know him now, after all these years?" I didn't make any answer. "It is the old story," says she sorrowfully; "only worse. And I did hope things were going to be better. Kitty, you have been helping him along the downward path, deeper into evil. If you really cared for him, you could not have done so." "O no!" I said again. "Not—" "Helping him downward into evil," said she. "Nothing less! Helping him farther along the road of deceit and dishonesty, and letting him teach you to deceive. If only you had stood firm when he tempted you, there'd have been sin spared on both sides. It is one of the saddest tales I have ever heard," said she. "One of the saddest, after the training you have had—and with such a father and mother! Perhaps you fancy you gave in because you like Walter. He's nice-looking, and he can say pretty things to girls. But it's a poor sort of 'liking' for a person, that can make you help forward the evil in him. And I, his sister, don't thank you for the harm you have done. Some day you will repent it too." Then she stopped, as if to give me time to speak; and I said nothing. I was angry still, and shamed and unhappy; and if I might not defend Walter, I would not answer at all. So after a minute she said softly— "Good-bye, Kitty. I shall pray for you." Then she went away out of the room, leaving me alone; and I didn't follow nor see her again, for she went by the train that passed in a quarter of an hour. Mother brought her work in soon, and sat down at the table. We had a lot of mending to got through, and I knew it had to be done. I felt half wild, as the minutes dragged on, and the clock ticked, and not a word was said. It seemed to my fancy as if mother wouldn't trust me, and was keeping guard. I longed to get away somewhere alone, for a good cry; yet I didn't dare to stir.