But she ignored her conscience.

She knew and owned that she was wrong to abet Mr.Cannon's deception.

And she abetted it.

She would have abetted it if she had believed that the act would involve her in everlasting damnation,--not solely out of loyalty to Mr.Cannon; only a little out of loyalty; chiefly out of mere unreasoning pride and obstinate adherence to a decision.
The letter finished, she took it into the inner room, where the three men sat in mysterious conclave.

Mr.Cannon read it over, and then Arthur Dayson borrowed the old clerk's vile pen and with the ceremonious delays due to his sense of his own importance, flourishingly added the signature.
When she came forth she heard a knock at the outer door.
"Come in," she commanded defiantly, for she was still unconsciously in the defiant mood in which she had offered the lying letter to Mr.
Cannon.
II A well-dressed, kind-featured, and almost beautiful young woman, of about the same age as Hilda, opened the door, with a charming gesture of diffidence.
For a second the two gazed at each other astounded.
"Well, Hilda, of all the--" "Janet!" It was an old schoolfellow, Janet Orgreave, daughter of Osmond Orgreave, a successful architect at Bursley.