n the air a chastened wail. "No use
for Mr. Cole to say:

"We must behave as though the Fair was not."

For a whole week it would be there, and everyone knew it.

Jeremy did not mean to be disobedient, but after that glimpse of
Britannia he knew that he would go.

III

It had, at first, been thought advisable that Jeremy should not go to
Mr. Somerset's during Fair Week. Perhaps Mr. Somerset could come to
the Coles'. No, he was very sorry. He must be in his rooms at that
particular hour in case parishioners should need his advice or
assistance.

"Pity for him to miss all this week, especially as there will be only
four days left after that. I am really anxious for him to have a little
grounding in Latin."

Mrs. Cole smiled confidently. "I think Jeremy is to be trusted. He would
never do anything that you wouldn't like."

Mr. Cole was not so sure. "He's not quite so obedient as I should wish.
He shows an independence--"

However, after some hesitation it was decided that Jeremy might be
trusted.

But even after that he was never put upon his honour. "If I don't
promise, I needn't mind," he said to himself, and waited breathlessly;
but nothing came. Only Aunt Amy said:

"I hope you don't speak to little boys in the street, Jeremy." To which
he replied scornfully: "Of course not."

He investigated his money-box, removing the top with a tin-opener. He
found that he had there 3s. 3 1/2d.; a large sum, and enough to give him
a royal time.

Mary caught him.

"Oh, Jeremy, what are you doing?"

"Just counting my money," he said, with would-be carelessness.

"You're going to the Fair?" she whispered breathlessly.

He frowned. How could she know? She always knew everything.

"Perhaps," he whispered back; "but if you tell anyone I'll--"

"Of course I wouldn't tell," she replied, deeply offended.

This little conversation strengthened his purpose. He had not admitted
to himself that he was really going. Now he knew.

Wednesday would be the night. On Wednesday evenings his father had a
service which prevented him from returning home until half-past eight.
He would go to Somerset's at half-past four, and would be expected
home at half-past six; there would be no real alarm about him until his
father's return from church, and he could, therefore, be sure of two
hours' bliss. For the consequences he did not care at all. He was going
to do no harm to anyone or anything. They would be angry, perhaps, but