ow, Miss Cynthia!" he chuckled.

Miss Betsey drew herself up.

"You have not answered my questions. Was I here two weeks ago, and did I
call upon Mrs. Parker?"

"No, no, Aunt Betsey!" shouted Jack. "You weren't! You didn't! Go ahead,
Cynth! Out with it! My eye, I'm glad I'm here and nowhere else! I've
been waiting for this happy day. Now you'll get paid up for fooling me."

And again he rolled, his long legs beating the air.

"I think you are mean, Jack, when you were the one that made me go!"
exclaimed Cynthia, indignantly. Then she relapsed into silence. How
could she ever confess to Aunt Betsey?

Miss Trinkett hastened the climax.

"I don't know why Jack finds this so amusing. It is not so to my mind;
but if you are quite sure that I was not here, and that I did not call
upon Mrs. Parker, I must ask you to drive down with me at once and state
the facts to her. I cannot have it insinuated that I am no longer
capable of judging for myself, and of knowing what I do and what I don't
do. She actually told me to my face that I was getting childish. What
_would_ Silas say? But I'll never tell him that. I would like to go at
once."

Alas, there was no help for it. Cynthia must confess. If only Jack had
not been there!

She rose from the step where she had been sitting, and standing in front
of her little grandaunt she spoke very rapidly.

"You are right, and so is Mrs. Parker. You weren't here, but I dressed
up and went to see her. I pretended I was you. I found your other
false--I mean your new hair. You left it in the drawer. I looked just
like you, and we thought it would be such fun. I'm awfully sorry, Aunt
Betsey, indeed I am. It wasn't such great fun, after all."

At first Miss Betsey was speechless. Then she rose in extreme wrath.

[Illustration: "CYNTHY FRANKLIN, IT IS MORE THAN TIME YOU HAD A
MOTHER."]

"Cynthy Franklin, it is more than time you had a mother. I never
supposed you could be so--impertinent; yes, impertinent! Made yourself
look like me, indeed, and going to my most intimate friend! Poor Mrs.
Parker. There's no knowing what she might have said, thinking it was I.
And I telling her to-day she was out of her mind, and various other
things I'm distressed to think of. Why, _Cynthy_!"

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry," cried Cynthia, bursting into tears. "Do forgive
me, Aunt Betsey."

"I am not ready to forgive you just yet, and whether I ever will or not
remains to be proved. I am disappointed in you