walked away in the direction of her room, leaving the
half-frightened boys to look alter her in silent sympathy.

Once in the safe retreat of her own room, Allie's courage broke down,
and, throwing herself on her bed, she began to cry convulsively, as she
realized all the injustice of her punishment, all the petty tyranny she
had borne for the past three days. For a few moments the sobs came
faster and faster. Then, when her first excitement was over, she began
to think. Mrs. Pennypoker ought to be ashamed of herself for abusing
them so; and how angry her mother would be when she knew it! Perhaps the
long day of loneliness and fasting would make her ill; then Mrs.
Pennypoker would be sorry. It might be that she would never get over it,
but would go into a decline. How they would all mourn for her! She went
on to plan the minutest details of her funeral with all the gloomy
cheerfulness of an undertaker; but, when she came to fancy the
loneliness of Howard and Charlie, the distressing picture overcame her,
and she began to sob once more. However, the tears would not flow quite
so readily this time; and, under all her pity for herself, she began to
wonder uneasily if, perhaps, she had not been a little hasty and rude to
Mrs. Pennypoker. It might be that her mother would not altogether
sympathize with her, after all. This was not an agreeable thought, and,
to silence it, she sprang up and crossed the room to put some cold
water on her flushed and swollen face. As she did so, she saw a slip of
paper tucked under the door, and she seized it eagerly, for it was
addressed to her, and in Charlie's writing.

"Good for you, Allie!" it said. "Keep up your pluck till afternoon, and
we'll have some fun then."

There was something encouraging in the boyish sympathy; and, as Allie
stood caressingly rubbing the note against her cheek, she found herself
wondering what he could mean by his reference to possible fun in the
afternoon. The outlook for the rest of the day did not seem to promise
much in the way of enjoyment; but Allie knew her cousin's ingenuity well
enough to rely upon his word, so she could resign herself to wait.

The next hour was a long one to the young prisoner, who wandered
restlessly about the room, or tried to amuse herself with a book,
although all the time she was inwardly dwelling upon the ignominy of her
punishment, and dreading lest it should reach the ears of Marjorie and
the Everetts, or, worst of all, of D