"Indeed I don't."
"Because you're afraid of being found out!" Edgar cried scornfully. "I never guessed before that you were such a coward!"
"I'm not a coward!" Roger retorted, growing red with indignation. "But I wouldn't try to deceive father even if there was no fear of his finding it out. God would know, anyway. Mother says we should never do anything we wouldn't like Him to know. You have no right to call me a coward—"
"I didn't really mean it, so don't let us quarrel," Edgar broke in hastily. "Oh," he exclaimed as Roger suddenly declared it was time for him to leave, "don't go yet! It is quite early."
"It's half-past six," Roger replied, glancing at the brass face of an old-fashioned clock in a black oak case, which stood against the wall near the writing-table, "and mother said I was to be back by seven. It will take me quite half an hour to get home."
"You won't tell about my smoking, will you?" questioned Edgar anxiously as he followed his cousin out of the room into the hall.
"No, of course I won't," was the reassuring response, "I wouldn't be such a sneak as that. Good-bye, Edgar. Thank you for asking me to tea—it was a jolly nice tea, too, and I enjoyed it awfully. Good-bye."
Edgar stood at the front door and watched his late companion out of sight. He was growing to like Roger more than any of his other school-fellows, and he had the sense to see that he had made no favourable impression upon him by the manner in which he had set his father's command at defiance, and he heartily wished he had not smoked that cigarette. He was uneasily conscious that the other boy knew that he had only been "showing off."