"You didn't set the boat-house on fire, Noddy. It wasn't any of your doings," said Fanny, somewhat disturbed by this new complication.
"You wouldn't have done it, if it hadn't been for me. I told you what I said to Ben—that I wished the boat-house was burned up; and that's what put it into your head."
"Well, you didn't do it."
"I know that; but I shall have to bear all the blame of it."
Noddy's moral perceptions were strong enough to enable him to see that he was not without fault in the matter; and he was opposed to Fanny's making the intended confession of her guilt.
"I will keep you out of trouble, Noddy," said she, kindly.
"You can't do it; when you own up, you will sink me to the bottom of the river. Besides, you are a fool to do any such thing, Miss Fanny. What do you want to say a word about it for? Ben will think some fellow landed from the river, and set the boat-house on fire."
"I must do it, Noddy," protested she. "I shall not have a moment's peace till I confess. I shall not dare to look father and Bertha in the face if I don't."
"You won't if you do. How are they going to know anything about it, if you don't tell them?"
"Well, they will lay it to you if I don't."