"I've been shaken, and I won't bear it!" growled Laurie indignantly.
"Who did it?" demanded Jo.
"Grandfather; if it had been any one else I'd have—" and the injured youth finished his sentence by an energetic gesture of the right arm.
"That's nothing; I often shake you, and you don't mind," said Jo soothingly.
"Pooh! you're a girl, and it's fun; but I'll allow no man to shake me."
"I don't think any one would care to try it, if you looked as much like a thunder-cloud as you do now. Why were you treated so?"
"Just because I wouldn't say what your mother wanted me for. I'd promised not to tell, and of course I wasn't going to break my word."
"Couldn't you satisfy your grandpa in any other way?"
"No; he would have the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I'd have told my part of the scrape, if I could without bringing Meg in. As I couldn't, I held my tongue, and bore the scolding till the old gentleman collared me. Then I got angry, and bolted, for fear I should forget myself."
"It wasn't nice, but he's sorry, I know; so go down and make up. I'll help you."