The little voice within told her how wicked she
had been, and she began to wish that she had not deceived her mother.

While she sat with the book in her hand, her father came home; and her
mother told him what Fanny Flynn had done. He was very angry when he had
heard the story, and asked Kate a great many questions about the affair.

"You did well, Kate, and I am glad you were so brave and so smart,"
said Mr. Lamb.

"Of course I could not give her any of the milk when it was for the
poor widow's hungry children."

"You did right, Kate," repeated her father. "The poor children might
have had to go to bed hungry if you had given up the milk to that bad
girl."

"I know it, father."

"Only think what a sad thing it would have been if the poor little ones
had been sent hungry and crying to bed. That Fanny Flynn must be taken
care of. When little girls get to be so bold as that, it is high time
something was done."

"I think so, too, father."

"It is time for you to go to bed now, Kate," said her mother.

"I am ready, mother, for I am tired as I can be."

Kate was glad to get away from her father and mother, for while they
were praising her for her good conduct, she knew very well that she did
not deserve it.

What would her parents think if they knew that she had spilled all the
milk on the ground? What would they say to her if they found out that
she had told them so many lies?

The more she thought of her conduct, the more she felt that she had done
wrong. She now saw that, if she had returned home and told her mother
the truth, she would have excused the fault, and sent another pail of
milk to the poor sick woman's hungry children.

She wished she had done so, for it would have been a great deal better
to be scolded for her carelessness than to feel as guilty as she now
felt. She was sure that it was far better to suffer a great deal than to
do even a little wrong.

She was not satisfied either that her mother would have scolded her, if
she had stated the whole truth to her--that Fanny Flynn had made her
spill the milk.

She went to bed; but when her mother bade her good night, and took the
lamp in her hand, she begged her to leave it, for she did not like to be
alone in the dark.

It seemed just as though a wicked spirit was tormenting her; and though
she was in the habit of going to sleep without a light, the darkness was
terrible to her at this time. She did not even wish to be left alone,
but sh