didn't think it right that you should be made to do without
it. I just went down, to get it, but it isn't there."

"Never mind," whispered Billy. "Don't worry, old man. I will wear
the one I have."

Mr. Fenelby hesitated.

"Of course," he whispered, "you won't--That is to say, you needn't
tell Laura I went down--"

"Certainly not," whispered Billy. "It was awfully kind of you to
think of it. But I'll make this one do."

Mr. Fenelby waited at the door a moment longer as if he had
something more to say, but Billy had closed the door, and he went
back to his room.

It was with relief that Bridget heard the door close behind Mr.
Fenelby. She had been standing on the little landing of the
back-stairs, where he had almost caught her as she was coming up. If
she had been one step higher he would have seen her head. Usually
she would not have minded this, for she had a perfect right to be on
the back-stairs in the early morning, but this time she felt that it
was her duty to remain undiscovered. Now that Mr. Fenelby was gone
she softly stepped to Billy's door and knocked lightly.

"Misther Billy, sor, are ye there?" she whispered. Billy opened the
door a crack and looked out.

"Mornin' to ye," she said in a hoarse whisper. "I'm sorry t'
disthurb ye, but Missus Fenelby axed me t' bring up th' collar ye
left on th' porrch railin', an' t' let no wan know I done it, an' I
just wanted t' let ye know th' reason I have not brung it up is
because belike someone else has brang it already, for it is gone."

"Thank you, Bridget," whispered Billy. "It doesn't matter."

She turned away, but when he had closed the door she paused, and
after hesitating a moment she tapped on his door again. He opened
it.

"I have put me foot in it," she said, "like I always do. W'u'd ye be
so good as t' fergit I mentioned th' name of Missus Fenelby, that's
a dear man? I raymimber now I was not t' mention it t' ye."

"Certainly, Bridget," said Billy, and he closed the door and went
again to the window, where he was turning his socks over and over in
the streak of sunlight that warmed a part of the window sill.

It took the socks a little longer to dry than he had thought it
would, and they were still damp enough to make his feet feel
anything but comfortable when he heard the breakfast bell tinkle
faintly. He hurried the rest of his toilet and went down the stairs,
assuming as he went the air of unsuspected innocence that is the
inborn right