n here and rave this
way."

"And I never would have come if I'd thought you were going to behave
this way. I'm dreadfully, _dreadfully_ disappointed in you, Neal. I
always thought you were a very nice boy, and I was awfully fond of
you--almost as fond of you as I am of Jack, and now--"

She broke off abruptly and looked away across the river.

If Neal was touched by this speech he did not show it at the moment. He
stood with his hands in his pockets, kicking the toe of his boot against
a rock.

"Of course I couldn't stay there," he said, presently. "Your father as
good as called me a thief."

"He didn't at all. He didn't really believe you had taken the money
until you ran away. Then, of course, every one thought it strange that
you went, and I don't wonder. And I couldn't tell how it really was,
because I had promised you; but I'm not going to keep the promise any
longer, Neal. I am going to tell."

"No, you can't. You've promised, and I won't release you. I am not going
to demean myself by explaining; they ought to have believed in me. But I
wish you would stop scolding, Cynthia, and come up here on the bank. I
can't talk while you are swinging round there with the current."

After a moment's hesitation Cynthia complied with his request. It
occurred to her that perhaps she could accomplish more by persuasion
than by wrath. Neal drew up the boat and they sat down under the tree.

"Where have you been all this time?" asked Cynthia.

"In Boston, first. I've been staying with several fellows. I gave out
that I was going to Philadelphia, for I thought you would be looking for
me, and it is true, for I am going, some time soon. Then I went to
Roxbury, and yesterday I walked out from there and found that little
shaver to take the note to you."

"Have you told your friends that you ran away?"

"No. Why should I? Fortunately I took enough clothes, though these are
beginning to look a little shabby. I spent last night in a shed. I've
only got a little money left, but it will answer until I get something
to do."

"Neal, do you know you are just breaking mamma's heart?"

Neal said nothing.

"She has looked so awfully ever since you left, and she wrote to you in
Philadelphia, and papa went on, but we had to send for him to come back
on account of Edith."

"What about Edith?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? Edith had a fearful accident yesterday. She was
driving with--she went to drive, and was thrown out and was terr