What it is, I can not tell; I only know it is _not_ that which the young fool calls it, still less that which the old sinner thinks it.

As to Letty's disobedience of her aunt's extravagant orders concerning Tom, I must leave that to the judgment of the just, reminding them that she was taken by surprise, and that, besides, it was next to impossible to obey them.

But Letty found herself very uncomfortable, because there now was that to be known of her, the knowledge of which would highly displease her aunt--for which very reason, if for no other, ought she not to tell her all?
On the other hand, when she recalled how unkindly, how unjustly her aunt had spoken, when she confessed her new acquaintance, it became to her a question whether in very deed she _must_ tell her all that had passed that afternoon.

There was no smallest hope of any recognition of the act, surely more hard than incumbent, but severity and unreason; _must_ she let the thing out of her hands, and yield herself a helpless prey--and that for good to none?
Concerning Mrs.
Wardour, she reasoned justly: she who is even once unjust can not complain if the like is expected of her again.
But, supposing it remained Letty's duty to acquaint her aunt with what had taken place, and not forgetting that, as one of the old people, I have to render account of the young that come after me, and must be careful over their lovely dignities and fair duties, I yet make haste to assert that the old people, who make it hard for the young people to do right, may be twice as much to blame as those whom they arraign for a concealment whose very heart is the dread of their known selfishness, fierceness, and injustice.

If children have to obey their parents or guardians, those parents and guardians are over them in the name of God, and they must look to it: if in the name of God they act the devil, that will not prove a light thing for their answer.