"Do you often stroll about at night?" he inquired curiously.
"No, indeed. And I have been so terrified that I am sure I will never do it again. I am very sorry, but I will tell auntie all about it to-morrow," she said, taking her candle and moving towards the stairs.
"Ruth," said Gerald, in an agitated whisper, "wait a minute."
She turned so that the light fell full upon his face, and saw that he looked white and anxious.
"May I ask you, as a favour, not to mention your adventure with the burglar? Perhaps it would be better for both of us to be silent about to-night's occurrence."
"Why? Where have you been, Gerald? You went to bed before ten o'clock, and"—a thought struck her—"how came the door to be unbolted?"
"Now, Ruth," he said coaxingly, "I know you are a good-natured little thing, and I don't believe you would do me a bad turn. You know the governor is always down upon me, won't let me have a latch-key, and says I must be in by half-past ten. A fellow can't live without a little pleasure, and if the governor won't let me have it I must take it. But don't say a word, there's a dear, or you will get me into an awful row."
"But it is so wrong to deceive your father and mother," urged Ruth, thinking that after all Gerald was not so "grown-up" as he seemed. "Do you often go out at night?"
"No, very seldom."
It was not true, but he was anxious to conciliate her.