, and
took a caning for it afterwards quite good-humouredly.

Judy still looked pale and tired, and her cough was rather troublesome;
but she was fast getting her high spirits back, and was enjoying her
adventure immensely.

The only drawback was the cribbed, cabined, and confined space of
the loft.

"You will HAVE to arrange things so that I can go for a run," she said
one morning, in a determined manner. "My legs are growing shorter,
I am sure, with not exercising them. I shall have forgotten how to walk
by the end of the week."

Pip didn't think it could be done; Meg besought her to run no risks;
but Bunty and Nell were eager for it.

"Meg could talk to Father," Bunty said, "and Pip could keep
teasing General till Esther would be frightened to leave the room,
and then me and Judy would nick down and have a run, and get back
before you let them go."

Judy shook her head.

"That would be awfully stale," she said. "If I go, I shall stay
down some time. Why shouldn't we have a picnic down at the river?"

"Oh, yes, let's!" Bunty cried, with sparkling eyes.

"I'm sure we could manage it especially as it's Saturday, and Pip
hasn't to go to school," Judy continued, thinking it rapidly out.
"Two of you could go and get some food. Tell Martha you are all
going for a picnic--she'll be glad enough not to have dinner to
set--then you go on. Two others can watch if the coast's clear
while I get down and across the paddocks, and once we're at the
corner of the road we're safe."

It seemed feasible enough, and in a very short time the preparations
were all made. Pip was mounting guard at the shed, and had undertaken
to get Judy safely away, and Bunty had been stationed on the back
veranda to keep cave and whistle three times if there was any danger.

He was to wait for a quarter of an hour by the kitchen clock, and
then, if all was well, to bring the big billy and a bread loaf,
and catch the others up on the road.

It was slow work waiting there, and he stood on one leg, like a
meditative fowl, and reviewed the events of the last few exciting
days.

He had a depressed feeling at his heart, but why he could hardly
tell. Perhaps it was the lie he had told his father, and which was
still unconfessed, because the horse was seriously lame, and his
courage oozed away every time he thought of that riding-whip.

Perhaps it was the reaction after the great excitement. Or it may
have been a rankling sense of injus