ling."

Lily stopped immediately. She peeped at him, a blue peep from under the
flopping, embroidered brim of her hat. "Are you in earnest?" She
smiled faintly. Her blue eyes, wet with tears, were lovely; so was her
hesitating smile.

"Yes, if you don't act silly," said Johnny. "Now you had better run
home, or your mother will wonder where that baby-carriage is."

Lily walked away, smiling over her shoulder, the smile of the happily
subjugated. "I won't tell anybody, Johnny," she called back in her
flute-like voice.

"Don't care if you do," returned Johnny, looking at her with chin in the
air and shoulders square, and Lily wondered at his bravery.

But Johnny was not so brave and he did care. He knew that his best
course was an immediate return home, but he did not know what he might
have to face. He could not in the least understand why his aunt Janet
had not told at once. He was sure that she knew. Then he thought of a
possible reason for her silence; she might have feared his arrest at the
hands of the chief of police. Johnny quailed. He knew his aunt Janet
to be rather a brave sort of woman. If she had fears, she must have had
reason for them. He might even now be arrested. Suppose Lily did
tell. He had a theory that girls usually told. He began to speculate
concerning the horrors of prison. Of course he would not be executed,
since his aunt was obviously very far from being killed, but he might be
imprisoned for a long term.

Johnny went home. He did not kick the dust any more. He walked very
steadily and staidly. When he came in sight of the old Colonial mansion,
with its massive veranda pillars, he felt chilly. However, he went on.
He passed around to the south door and entered and smelled shortcake.
It would have smelled delicious had he not had so much on his mind. He
looked through the hall, and had a glimpse of his uncle Jonathan in the
study, writing. At the right of the door was his father's office. The
door of that was open, and Johnny saw his father pouring things from
bottles. He did not look at Johnny. His mother crossed the hall. She
had on a long white apron, which she wore when making her famous cream
shortcakes. She saw Johnny, but merely observed, "Go and wash your face
and hands, Johnny; it is nearly supper-time."

Johnny went up-stairs. At the upper landing he found his aunt Janet
waiting for him. "Come here," she whispered, and Johnny followed her,
trembling, into her own room. It was a