"Oh, yes, you must, Joe!" cried David, in alarm.
"I won't, I won't, I won't!" declared Joel, feeling with each repetition of the word a happy independence.
"Yes, indeed, the children have gone," a voice suddenly proclaimed above the stairs, as somebody opened the door and came out into the upper hall. "Yes, Mrs. Whitney, they have gone to Mrs. Van Ruypen's."
"It's Mamsie," gasped David, clutching Joel's shoulders, who ducked back into his corner so suddenly that they both went down in a little heap.
"Did she hear?" gasped Joel, holding his breath for the answer.
"I don't believe so," said David, when he could extricate himself from Joel sufficiently, who now grasped him by both hands in a way very uncomfortable for conversation. "No, I don't really believe she did, Joel, 'cause she said we'd gone."
"She'll hear us now, anyway," said Joel, thrust into the depths of gloom, his independence completely deserting him; "what'll we do?"
Little David found his feet and tiptoed out to listen under the stairs. "She's going into her room," he announced in a whisper, coming back to the closet. "Come, Joey, do hurry."
So Joel picked up his cap and crammed it on his head, and stepped out of the closet, but he had a very gloomy air when the two boys presented themselves in the front hall.
"O there! now you see," said Polly to Ben, quite in despair, "just how very dreadful it's all going to be, when Joel goes with such a face."