'And what was your reason, Angela?' she asked.
'I don't know,' said Angela, rather foolishly. 'Jean said "Come on!" and we'd promised to share the first opportunity that came; and Babs went, and so of course I went too.'
Miss Finlayson looked relieved. 'You have made me feel much happier, children,' she said, 'because I see now that you did not realise what you were doing, and that your own reasons seemed good enough to you at the time. If I thought I could not trust to your honour any more, I should be most unhappy. Do you think you understand?'
The triumvirate looked very thoughtful. Angela, who seemed to have forgotten all about her alarming symptoms, was the first to speak.
'I suppose I ought to have found out whether the others were right before I followed them,' she said.
'And we ought to have made sure we were right ourselves before we let her follow us, because Angela always follows,' added Jean.
Barbara roused herself and shook back her hair. 'I was the worst,' she said impetuously. 'I did remember about the bounds, and the others didn't until afterwards. But I forgot about the honour part, truthfully!'
'Yes,' answered the head-mistress; 'you were the worst, Babs; and you soon found out that the lane did not lead to the enchanted grotto, didn't you? Now, what we can all see very clearly from this conversation is that we must think a little more carefully in future before we do things. The rules in my school are made for people who _think_, and not for people who have to be told whether a thing is right or wrong. People of that kind are not the people for me. Are you going to let me trust you again in future, children?'
There was no doubt whatever from their faces that they thought she might; but Babs still wanted something cleared up.
'Was the Canon's sermon all wrong, then?' she asked in her straightforward manner. Jean and Angela looked at the head-mistress nervously; but Miss Finlayson did not seem to mind.
'The Canon's sermon was rather like my rules,' she pointed out; 'and it was meant for people who think. It is no use being unselfish in a thoughtless kind of way, or else you do as much harm as most people do by being selfish. I want you to try very hard to put lots of thought and cleverness into your good deeds all your life, so that by the time you are grown up your good deeds will be really worth doing. Then you will be able to carry out properly what the Canon told you; for, to tell the truth, the Canon's sermon was rather meant for grown-up thinking, and perhaps that is why you misunderstood it. But children's thinking is worth just as much in its own way; don't forget that, little girls.'