he girl got into the buggy and took the reins, and James
followed. He was almost jostled out, the mare started with such impetus.
They made the distance home almost on a run.

"Oh, I am so glad," panted Clemency. "You see I can seem to feel her
mouth when I hold the lines, and she knows. Was poor mother worried?"

"A little."

"I know she was almost crazy."

"She will be all right when she sees you safe," said James.

"Is Uncle Tom home yet? No, of course I know he isn't, or he would have
come instead of you. Oh, dear, I know he will scold me. I shall have to
tell him, but I mustn't tell mother about the man. What shall I tell
her? It is dreadful to have to lie, but sometimes one would rather run
the risk of fire and brimstone for one's self than have anybody else
hurt. If I tell mother she will have one of her dreadful nervous
attacks. I can't tell her. What shall I tell her, Doctor Elliot?"

"I think the simplest thing will be to say that Miss Lipton persuaded
you to stay to supper, and so you were late, and I overtook you," said
James.

"Mother will never believe that I stayed so long as that," said
Clemency. "I shall have to lie more than that. I don't know exactly what
to say. I could have Charlie Horton come in to play whist, and be taking
me home in his buggy. He always drives, and you could meet me on the
road."

"Yes, you could do that."

"It is a very complicated lie," said Clemency, "but I don't know that a
complicated lie is any worse than a simple one. I think I shall have to
lie the complicated one. You need not say anything, you know. You can
take the mare to the stable, and I will run in and get the lie all told
before you come. You won't lie, will you?"

James could not help laughing. "No, I don't see any need of it," he
replied.

"It is rather awful for you to have to live with people who have to lie
so," remarked Clemency, "but I don't see how it can be helped. If you
had seen my mother in one of her nervous attacks once, you would never
want to see her again. There is only one thing, I do feel very weak
still, and I am afraid I shall look pale. Hold the lines a minute. Don't
pull on them at all. Let them lie on your knees."

"What are you doing?" asked James when he had complied.

"Doing? I am pinching my cheeks almost black and blue, so mother won't
notice. I don't talk scared now, do I?"

"Not very."

"Well, I think I can manage that. I think I can manage my voice. I am
all over