"It was a bold plot."
"And a wicked one," added Mrs. Dutton, who had now joined the group in the library.
"But what kept you out so late that night?" asked the doctor.
Fred examined the date of Mr. Simmons' paper.
"It was the night of Grace Bernard's party."
"Yes, so it was—I remember the date now; but in going from Mr. Bernard's to your home you could not pass the old Booker barn."
Fred's face grew suddenly red. The temperature of the room seemed to him suffocatingly warm. He stood on one foot, embarrassed, trying to think how to explain.
His color very strangely seemed to be reflected upon Nellie's cheeks. Just then she appeared to be much interested in the evening paper, and held it much nearer to her eyes than was her custom.
"You shouldn't ask so many questions," said Mrs. Dutton to her husband, smiling at the young folks' embarrassment.
"Ah, ha! I see now. Jealousy, was it?"