"Meta, what am I to do with you?
this dreadful fault of yours mortifies me beyond everything.

I feel like taking you back to Ashlands at once, and never allowing you to go from home at all; lest you should bring a life-long disgrace upon yourself and me." "Mother, I wasn't prying or meddling with Mr.Lilburn's affairs," said Meta, bursting into sobs and tears.
"What were you doing there?
tell me all about it without any more ado." Knowing that her mother was a determined woman, and seeing that there was now no escape from a full confession, Meta made it.
Mrs.Carrington was much distressed.
"Meta, you have robbed your Aunt Elsie, your Aunt Elsie who has always been so good, so kind to me and to you: and I can never make good her loss; never replace that plate." "Just that one tiny plate couldn't be worth so very much," muttered the offender.
"Its intrinsic value was perhaps not very great," replied Mrs.
Carrington, "but to my dear friend it was worth much as a memento of her dead mother.

Meta, you shall not go with us to-morrow, but shall spend the day locked up in your own room at home." An excursion had been planned for the next day, in which the whole party, adults and children, were to have a share.

They were to leave at an early hour in the morning, travel several miles by boat, and spend the day picnicking on a deserted plantation--one Meta had not yet seen, but had heard spoken of as a very lovely place.
She had set her heart on going, and this decree of her mother came upon her as a great blow.

She was very fond of being on the water, and of seeing new places, and had pictured to herself the delights of roaming over the large old house, which she had heard was still standing, peeping into the closets, pulling open drawers, perhaps discovering secret stairways and--oh delightful thought!--possibly coming upon some hidden treasure forgotten by the owners in their hasty flight.
She wept bitterly, coaxed, pleaded, and made fair promises for the future, but all in vain.