ness of his behaviour, or the seriousness of the
situation. He was bound to be found out, and then he would perhaps be
sent back to school, or one of the maids would be sent for to take charge
of him, and a flush of shame mounted his forehead at the thought.

Then to avoid all the trouble he knew he would get into, Paul made the
grave mistake people often make when once they have done wrong. To cover
the first fault they commit another, and so start on what is often a long
road of sin and misery, rather than courageously face at once the blame
and punishment they deserve. The rest of the drive he did not enjoy at
all, though it was one of the pleasures he loved most, as a rule; but his
mind was fully occupied in trying to plan how he should escape detection
and punishment.

Muggridge at first promised to clean the boots for him before anybody
could see them, but the delay Paul had caused made them so late in getting
home that he had to go at once to put the horse in his stable, and then
hurry off to his own dinner. Besides, the mud was too wet as yet to be
cleaned off. Paul was terribly upset at that. What _would_ become of
him, he wondered, and how could he manage? By that time all thought of
confessing at once had gone from his mind; it seemed to him impossible to
do it; he could think of nothing but concealment. But, luckily he
thought, when they got back to the house there was no one about.
It was close to the hour for the mid-day dinner. Mrs. Minards and the
maids were busy in the kitchen, Mrs. Anketell and Stella were upstairs in
their rooms. Paul could hardly believe his good fortune when he got past
the windows, into the house, without meeting any one, and as he stood at
the foot of the stairs listening, to try to discover where everyone was,
and could hear no voices or footsteps near, his spirits rose. He crept
upstairs swiftly and stealthily, almost without a sound, except for the
creaking of a board in the passage outside his mother's door. She heard
it, and called out, "Who is that? Is that Paul?" But he went on without
answering, though he felt very mean for doing so, and soon gained his own
room. He was scarcely a moment taking off his muddy boots and hiding them
in the bottom of his play-box; then he put on his slippers, dabbed over
the front of his head with a wet hair brush, smeared a little water over
his face and hands, wiped the dirt off on the towel, and crept downstairs
again in a fe