“Goodness, Don!” she exclaimed pretending to be alarmed. “You came in so still that you frightened me. It’s not your way to creep about like that.”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, Aunt Ella,” he said. “I came to tell you that I am going out.”
“Not now? Why, it’s just supper time, and I’ll have everything ready in a few minutes.”
“I don’t want anything; I couldn’t eat.”
“Land! land! What in the world is the matter with you? You’re a healthy, growing boy, and you generally have an appetite.”
“I haven’t any to-night, aunt. I couldn’t eat anything; it would choke me!”
“Something is the matter! Don, you’re sick!” She was alarmed in a moment. “I’ll call your father.”
“Don’t aunt,” interposed Don, stopping her. “I’m not sick—truly I’m not.”
“Then what ails ye?”
“Nothing, only—I’ve lost my appetite. Perhaps if I go for a long walk, the exercise may give me an appetite.”