he time the
meal was over, I had broken two plates, knocked down a saucer, upset the
cream pitcher, and nearly cut the end of my thumb off with my knife.
Also, the rain had ceased, and it was dark.

Florence declared she could not stop another moment. Her friends would be
alarmed about her; she must go at once. My mother urged her to remain all
night. But she could not think of it; and, while she was arranging her
wraps, my mother beckoned me into the entry.

"Roy," she said, decisively, "Florence should not go home alone!"

"I can't help it!" said I, doggedly. "I guess nothing will devour her on
the journey."

"My son!" she exclaimed, with just severity, "I cannot permit you to
speak in that way of one whom I so highly respect! It is ungentlemanly!
Your father is absent, the servant is busy, and Florence has a full
half-mile to walk. You will attend her home!"

My limbs trembled under me. I should have darted from the back door, and
left my mother's favorite to shift for herself; but my austere relative
had kept a firm hold of my arm, and, without further parley, drew me back
to the parlor.

"If you must go, dear," she said to Florence, "I will not urge you. Roy
will walk home with you."

Florence opened wide her blue eyes in evident astonishment; and, as for
me, the whole creation was in a whirl! The room went round and round like
a top--I was obliged to grasp the back of a chair to keep from falling--I
was penetrated with speechless dismay.

"Roy! Florence is waiting!" said my unrelenting mother.

There was no appeal. To use a vulgar, but expressive phrase, I was "in
for it;" and, nerved by a sort of desperate courage, which sometimes
comes to the aid of the weak in great extremities, I flung open the door,
blundered down the steps, and out into the street. Florence followed
leisurely behind, shut the gate after her, and fastened the latch. How I
envied her her provoking coolness!

We went on; she one side of the road--I the other, and about three yards
in advance of her. By-and-bye, when we had proceeded in utter silence for
a quarter of a mile, my companion said, demurely:

"Roy, you can get over the fence, and go in the field; and I will keep
the road."

The little jade was quizzing me. I could not endure her ridicule, so
forthwith I made a sort of flying leap to her side of the street,
spattering the mud in every direction as I alighted beside her. I had
just begun to think how much better the foot