he couldn't send the letter by post because she
had no stamp. Should she lay it on his doorstep. No, somebody else
might get it. How then? She was standing on her own doorstep with the
letter in her pocket when she asked herself the question, and just at
the moment Sammy himself appeared, coming back from school. Quick as
thought, Beth ran across the road, whipped out the letter and gave it
to him. Sammy stood still in astonishment with his mouth open, gazing
at it when he found it in his hand, as if he could not imagine how it
got there.

As soon as it was dark, Beth stationed herself at the back gate, which
looked out into Orchard Street, and waited and waited, but Sammy did
not come. He had not been able to get out; that was it--she was sure
of it; yet still she waited, although the evening was very cold. Her
mother and Aunt Victoria had gone to dine with Lady Benyon. She did
not know what Harriet was doing, but she had disposed of Bernadine
for some time to come by lending her her best picture-book to daub
with paint; so it was pretty safe to wait; and at first the hope of
seeing Sammy come running round the corner was pleasure enough. As the
time went on, however, she became impatient, and at last she ventured
a little way up the street, then a little farther, and then she ran on
boldly into Orchard Row. As she approached the Lees' back-gate, she
became aware of a round thing that looked like a cannon-ball glued to
the top, and her fond heart swelled, for she knew it must be Sammy's
head.

"O Sammy! why didn't you come?" she cried.

"I didn't like," said Sammy.

"I've been waiting for hours," Beth expostulated with gentle reproach.

"So have I, and it's cold," said Sammy disconsolately.

"Come now. She's out," Beth coaxed.

"So she was the other day," Sammy reminded her.

"But we'll go into the garden. She can't catch us there. It's too
dark."

Sammy, half persuaded, ventured out from the gateway, then hesitated.

"But is it _very_ dark?" he said.

"Not so very, when you're used to it," Beth answered. "But it's nice
when it's dark. You can fancy you see things. Come! run!" She seized
his hand as she spoke, and set off, and Sammy, overborne by the
stronger will, kept pace with her.

"But I don't want to see things," he protested, trying to hold back
when they came to the dark passage which led into the garden.

"Don't be a fool, Sammy," said Beth, dragging him on. "I believe
you're a girl."

"I'm