RIGHT IDEA.

One thing troubled Carl. It was that Dora knew all about it. She came
to lunch that dreadful Saturday to go with the others to see Hermann,
and of course Helen's bruises and his own absence had to be accounted
for.

On his way home from school one morning he saw her and her mother
coming towards him on the other side of the street. When they were
within speaking distance, Mrs. Warner bowed, but Dora looked in
another direction as if she wished not to see him.

Carl was hurt and mortified, for he was sure he knew the reason.

"I don't care, it is mean to be so hard on a fellow. Aunt Zelie
isn't," he said to himself.

He did care, however, and was silent and gloomy at lunch. As he left
the room on his way upstairs to study he heard Bess say, "Dora had
such an accident to-day." But he did not wait to hear what it was.

An hour later, having an errand to do up town, he went off alone
instead of asking Ikey to go with him as usual.

The clear, cold air was making him cheerful in spite of himself, when,
as he drew near home after a long walk, he saw two familiar figures in
front of him. His spirits immediately fell, for they were Ikey and
Dora chatting together most sociably. Carl suddenly felt jealous.

He knew they were great friends, and he never had dreamed of objecting
till now that he was himself out of favor. He began to walk slowly
that he might not overtake them, his pride keeping him from turning
back and going home some other way.

They paused a moment when they reached the corner; then Ikey, with his
politest bow, left her and crossed the street. Dora stood waiting.
Carl advanced, trying to look unconscious and indifferent.

Her smile changed to a puzzled look, and then became positive
astonishment when he was passing without a word.

Always straightforward, she exclaimed, "Why, Carl! Aren't you going to
speak to me? I am on my way to your house."

"I thought you would not care to speak to me, you didn't this
morning," he answered somewhat loftily.

"Not speak to you? I don't know what you mean."

"You would not this morning," he persisted.

"Oh, I know now! How absurd! Didn't the girls tell you about my
glasses getting broken? It must have been when I was going to have
them mended. You know I am so near-sighted I can't see across the
street without them."

Carl looked rather foolish. Dora had worn glasses only a short time,
and he had not noticed their absence.

"You knew I wo