But when I found six peas in my bag, I became aware of my folly.

I had but counted nineteen, and had no pea to let fall for the twentieth holy Lady.

Yet I ran in haste with my false report, when, had I but thought to look in my wallet, all would have been made clear.
Will the Reverend Mother forgive old Mary Antony ?" She shot a quick glance at the Prioress; and, at sight of the immense relief on that loved face, felt ready for any punishment with which it might please Heaven to visit her deceit.
"Dear Antony," began the Reverend Mother, smiling.
"Dear Antony--" she said, and laughed aloud.
Then she placed her hand beneath the old woman's arm, and gently raised her.

"Mistakes arise so easily," she said.

"With the best of intentions, we all sometimes make mistakes.