It was their last night. Priscilla wasn't going back to school again. Her
aunt, she said, was only paying for a year. They lay together in the big
bed, dim, face to face, talking.

"Hatty--if you wanted to do something most awfully, more than anything
else in the world, and it was wrong, would you be able not to do it?"

"I hope so. I _think_ I would, because I'd know if I did it would
make Papa and Mamma unhappy."

"Yes, but suppose it was giving up something you wanted, something you
loved more than them--could you?"

"Yes. If it was wrong for me to have it. And I couldn't love anything more
than them."

"But if you did, you'd give it up."

"I'd have to."

"Hatty--I couldn't."

"Oh, yes, _you_ could if _I_ could."

"No. No...."

"How do you know you couldn't?"