e been good, but she would not have had a
good time. As it was, she had had a good time, but she had not
been good. So there you are!

The gate clicked, but it was not Henry, for Gladys offered the
conciliatory greeting, "Hello, Willie." So it must be Willie
Jones coming through their yard to get to his own. Margery
wondered whether Gladys would be able to work him as she had
worked Henry. Margery thought not, but if she were--well, she,
Margery Blair, would have very little more to say to Willie
Jones.

When, Margery judged, Willie Jones was passing the porch, Gladys
asked in her suavest tones, "Oh, Willie, did you see Margery,
too?"

For a moment Willie did not answer, and Margery, kneeling on the
floor behind the window curtain, held her breath. Then,
apparently without slowing his pace, Willie Jones grunted out in
his roughest manner:

"Aw, go on! You don't know what you're talkin' about!"

"Willie Jones is just the rudest boy," Gladys informed the twins.
"I wouldn't think your mother would let Margery play with him."

But, up-stairs, Margery wept for joy at this evidence of a true
and noble heart.

Henry returned from the chase with the interesting news that he
had almost caught Freddy Larkin.

"Well, I just pity your poor father," Gladys commented, "if he
goes down on the car to-morrow with Freddy Larkin's father."

"Why, Gladys?" chorused the twins anxiously.

"Because he'll laugh at your father and make fun of him for
having a girl that went in swimming with boys. Just you see! And
your father'll feel so disgraced!"

Would he really? Margery wondered forlornly. Of all her family,
her father was the one, the only one, she would have spared; and
now, if Gladys were to be trusted, he it was who would suffer
most. With a pang, she suddenly remembered how many times in the
past she had been sent to bed, as to-day, to await his coming,
and how kind and just he had always been, never pronouncing
punishment until he had sifted and weighed the evidence against
her. And, remembering this, her rebellious little heart softened
and a sense of regret came over her--the first she had felt that
afternoon. Why, why had she not remembered him sooner? How could
she _ever_ have forgotten him?

* * * * *

In the midst of this incipient remorse, Gladys announced his
arrival.

He came in with a cheerful, "Hello, kidlets!" and almost
immediately asked, "Where's Margery?"

"Margery'