d.

Jane, however, had turned her head and was staring at the corner, which
was out of his sight.

"Oo-oo-ooh!" she murmured.

"What's the trouble, Jane?"

"Willie!" she said. "It's Willie an' that Joe Bullitt, an' Johnnie
Watson, an' Mr. Wallace Banks. They're with Miss May Parcher. They're
comin' right here!"

Mr. Parcher gave forth a low moan, and turned pathetically to his wife,
but she cheered him with a laugh.

"They've only walked up from the station with May," she said. "They
won't come in. You'll see!"

Relieved, Mr. Parcher turned again to speak to Jane--but she was not
there. He caught but a glimpse of her, running up the street as fast as
she could, hand in hand with her companion.

"Run, Rannie, run!" panted Jane. "I got to get home an' tell mamma about
it before Willie. I bet I ketch Hail Columbia, anyway, when he does get
there!"

And in this she was not mistaken: she caught Hail Columbia. It lasted
all afternoon.

It was still continuing after dinner. Thatt evening, when an
oft-repeated yodel, followed by a shrill-wailed, "Jane-ee! Oh,
Jane-NEE-ee!" brought her to an open window down-stairs. In the early
dusk she looked out upon the washed face of Rannie Kirsted, who stood on
the lawn below.

"Come on out, Janie. Mamma says I can stay outdoors an' play till half
past eight."

Jane shook her head. "I can't. I can't go outside the house till
to-morrow. It's because we walked after Willie with our stummicks out o'
joint."

"Pshaw!" Rannie cried, lightly. "My mother didn't do anything to me for
that."

"Well, nobody told her on you," said Jane, reasonably.

"Can't you come out at all?" Rannie urged. "Go ask your mother. Tell
her--"

"How can I," Jane inquired, with a little heat, "when she isn't here to
ask? She's gone out to play cards--she and papa."

Rannie swung her foot. "Well," she said, "I guess I haf to find SOMEp'n
to do! G' night!"

With head bowed in thought she moved away, disappearing into the gray
dusk, while Jane, on her part, left the window and went to the open
front door. Conscientiously, she did not cross the threshold, but
restrained herself to looking out. On the steps of the porch sat
William, alone, his back toward the house.

"Willie?" said Jane, softly; and, as he made no response, she lifted her
voice a little. "Will-ee!"

"Whatchwant!" he grunted, not moving.

"Willie, I told mamma I was sorry I made you feel so bad."

"All right!" he returned, curt