“See if I don't!”
“You are sharp, but you won't guess this. It's a tremendous secret, and nobody will tell it.”
“You'll tell it yourself. You always do.”
“I won't tell this. It would be mean.”
“Wait and see; I can get anything out of you if I try;” and Jill laughed, knowing her power well, for Jack found it very hard to keep a secret from her.
“Don't try; please don't! It wouldn't be right, and you don't want to make me do a dishonorable thing for your sake, I know.”
Jack looked so distressed that Jill promised not to make him tell, though she held herself free to find out in other ways, if she could.
Thus relieved, Jack trudged off to school on Friday with the two dollars and seventy-five cents jingling in his pocket, though the dear gold coin had to be sacrificed to make up the sum. He did his lessons badly that day, was late at recess in the afternoon, and, as soon as school was over, departed in his rubber boots “to take a walk,” he said, though the roads were in a bad state with a spring thaw. Nothing was seen of him till after tea-time, when he came limping in, very dirty and tired, but with a reposeful expression, which betrayed that a load was off his mind. Frank was busy about his own affairs and paid little attention to him, but Jill was on tenter-hooks to know where he had been, yet dared not ask the question.
“Merry's brother wants some cards. He liked hers so much he wishes to make his lady-love a present. Here's the name;” and Jill held up the order from Harry Grant, who was to be married in the autumn.
“Must wait till next week. I'm too tired to do a thing to-night, and I hate the sight of that old press,” answered Jack, laying himself down upon the rug as if every joint ached.