“And they all say you don’t care!” murmured his sister half to herself.
“Let them!” Jack returned proudly, pouring out some cold water and washing his face vigorously till the marks of tears disappeared, and the redness was not only in his eyelids but everywhere else as well. “Does it show? Will they suspect me?”
Bessie shook her head.
“There’s no fear of that. If you went down with the tears standing on your cheeks they’d only think you’d been laughing.”
Jack seemed relieved by this view of the case, and stood for a few seconds thinking, whereupon all his composure vanished, his lip quivered, and a fresh rush of tears came to his eyes. He turned quickly away, fighting to keep them back, while Bessie took his hand and held it, puzzled and half frightened.
“Is it all about father?” she asked timidly.
“It’s all,” began the boy, choking back a sob, “because I was such a great stupid idiot! Don’t tell the others, but those two pounds were mine. I worked so hard, and saved them—to please father when he was hard up, and then instead of just giving them to him and saying so, I must put them in his purse for a joke, and make no end of mischief.”
“Never mind, Jack. It can’t be helped. And they can tell the magistrate so, you know, and then it will be all right.”
“Not for a week!” groaned Jack, washing his face again. “There! That’s over!” he added, drying it vigorously. “You won’t see me make such a goose of myself again in a hurry. Bessie, if you tell anyone I’ve been crying I’ll never forgive you.”