y is so much
against him, Cynthia. If he had been innocent, would he not have braved
it out?"

"No; he is so proud, mamma. That is the reason he went, I am sure. He
thought papa suspected him. Oh, why did papa ever think it? Why did he
say anything to Edith for Janet to hear?"

"Hush, dear. Your father spoke thoughtlessly, but it was natural; of
course it was natural. But Neal should not have gone. It is a false kind
of pride. If he is innocent he should have the pride of innocence and
stay here."

It was what they all said. Cynthia went from one to the other, trying to
convince them and to imbue them with her own belief in Neal, but she
could not. Even Jack, her beloved twin-brother, was on the other side.

"Of course I want to believe in Neal, Cynth," he said. "I like him, and
I never supposed before he'd do a low-down thing like this. In fact, I
can't really believe it now. But why on earth did the fellow run away?
If he came by the money all fair and square, why under the sun didn't he
say so, instead of shutting himself up like an oyster, and never letting
on where he got it?"

"He had his reasons," persisted Cynthia. "Oh, Jack, can't you believe
me? You always used to believe me."

"Well, you used to tell a fellow more than you do now. You get mighty
shut up yourself now and then. You won't tell me what you're going to do
with Aunt Betsey's money, or why you didn't buy a watch, or anything.
I'm sure I don't want you to if you don't want to, but there's no reason
why I should always think as you do."

If they had not been sitting side by side Jack could not have failed to
notice the peculiar expression that came into Cynthia's face when he
mentioned Aunt Betsey's present. They were on the stone wall which
crossed the river path. Bob was with them, darting hither and thither,
perhaps in the vain hope of finding his master.

"I don't need a watch, I've told you over and over again," said Cynthia.
"But oh, Jack, I wish you would agree with me! Indeed, Neal is honest."

"I believe he is myself, on the whole," said Jack at last; "but it's a
mighty queer thing he doesn't own up and tell where he got that money,
and he's a great ass not to. You see, the postmaster thinks that perhaps
the package did come from Aunt Betsey, and Neal paid gold just a few
days later. Of course it looks queer."

It was the same way with Edith. She would not be convinced, and after a
vain argument with her Cynthia retired to the onl