"That was only a white lie," muttered Sam. "Darn it all! I've got so used to fibbing, I can't help it. I didn't think then, or I wouldn't have said what I did."
The boy really felt badly to think he had not the courage to speak the truth, and made a new resolution, to be braver in future.
The relief of mind which followed the bursting of the clouds over his head brought a keen appetite; and he remembered that he had eaten nothing but an apple or two since breakfast. Hunger impelled him to apply himself to the churn; five minutes of industrious labor finished the task, and he was prepared to go to supper with the family.
In the evening a number of young people, living in the neighborhood, called, in honor of Chester's return from school. The parlor was opened for the "company," and the "old folks" occupied the sitting-room.
Chester was very lively, for he was fond of sociability, and loved to be admired for his grace and wit; but he seemed at length to find the conversation of his old acquaintances insipid.
"Father Brighthopes," he said, gayly, entering the sitting-room, "I wish you would go in and teach our friends some better amusement than kissing games. I am heartily sick of them."
"If Jane Dustan was here, I guess you would like them," said Lizzie, who had preferred to listen to the clergyman's stories, rather than go into the parlor.
Her eyes twinkled with fun; but Chester looked displeased.
"It's nothing but 'Who'll be my judge?' 'Measure off three yards of tape with so and so, and cut it;' 'Make a sugar-bowl, and put three lumps of sugar in it, with Julia;' 'Go to Rome and back again;' 'Bow to the prettiest, kneel to the wittiest, and kiss the one you love best' and such nonsense."
"Ches has got above these good old plays, since he has been at the academy!" and Lizzie laughed again, mischievously. "You used to like kissing well enough."