"But I can't have you leave me, Jack," the little woman said in a quavering voice. "You have no idea how much I've been countin' on your company."
"You won't feel half so bad as I shall to go," Jack replied mournfully.
"But it is out of the question to even think of walking all that distance."
"It's got to be done jest the same, an' as soon as my clothes are dried we'll start. Things will come mighty tough; but they can't be helped."
Aunt Nancy looked thoroughly distressed, and there was a suspicious moisture in her eyes as she asked,—
"How would it do to lock the doors, and refuse to come down when he knocked?"
Jack shook his head.
"I don't believe it would work."
"No, it mustn't be thought of, for then we should be acting a lie, which is almost, if not quite, as bad as telling one."
"How do you make that out?" Jack asked in surprise.