" said Jeremy. "But you said they'd sent for me."

"Well," said Uncle Samuel, "that wasn't exactly true. As a matter of
fact, they don't know you were there."

"Oh!" said Jeremy, the corner of his mouth turning down. "Then I've told
a lie again!"

"Nonsense!" said Uncle Samuel impatiently. "It wasn't you; it was I."

"And doesn't it matter your telling lies?" asked Jeremy.

The answer to this difficult question was, happily for Uncle Samuel,
interrupted by the arrival of the household, who had careened up Orange
Street in a cab.

When Mr. and Mrs. Cole saw Jeremy standing in the hall, his great coat
still on and his muffler round his neck, there was a fine scene of
wonder and amazement.

Uncle Samuel explained. "It was my fault. I told him you'd forgiven him
and sent for him to come, after all. He's in an awful state now that you
shouldn't forgive him."

Whatever they thought of Uncle Samuel, this was obviously neither the
time nor the place to speak out. Mrs. Cole looked at her son. His body
defiant, sleepy, excited. His mouth was obstinate, but his eyes appealed
to her on the scene of the common marvellous experience that they had
just enjoyed.

She hugged him.

"And you won't tell a lie again, will you, Jeremy, dear?"

"Oh, no!" And then, hurrying on: "And when the old woman tumbled
down the steps, Mother, wasn't it lovely? And the fairies in Dick
Whittington's sleep, and when the furniture all fell all over the
place--"

He went slowly upstairs to the nursery, the happiest boy in the kingdom.
But through all his happiness there was this puzzle: Uncle Samuel had
told a lie, and no one had thought that it mattered. There were good
lies and bad ones then. Or was it that grown-up people could tell lies
and children mustn't?...

He tumbled into the warm, lighted nursery half asleep. There was Hamlet
watching in front of the Jampot's sewing machine.

He would have things to think about for years and years and years...

There was the Jampot.

"I'm sorry I called you a beastly woman," he said.

She sniffed.

"Well, I hope you'll be a good boy now," she said.

"Oh, I'll be good," he smiled. "But, Nurse, are there some people can
tell lies and others mustn't?"

"All them that tell lies goes to Hell," said the Jampot. "And now,
Master Jeremy, come along and take your things off. It's past eleven,
and what you'll be like to-morrow--"

CHAPTER IV. MISS JONES

I

The coming of the new yea