The incident, however, brought about more trouble for Molly than for her victim, for the following noon, when Cal returned from morning school, Molly called to him from beyond the lilac hedge that separated the two houses.
“Hello,” he said as he went over, “what’s the matter with you?” For Molly looked extremely depressed.
“They won’t let me go out of the yard today,” she said mournfully. “And Hoop was going to play tennis with me after dinner.”
“Why won’t they?” Cal demanded.
“Because I told them about Clara’s nose and Aunt Matilda said I was to stay at home until I had learned to be more careful and lady-like. And I told her I didn’t mean to do it, too!”
“That’s a shame,” said Cal warmly. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Aunt Matilda says I’m harum-scarum,” sighed Molly. “Do you think I am, Cal?”
“I—I cal—I guess I don’t just know what that is,” he answered. “How long have you got to stay in the yard?”
“I don’t know. All of today, anyhow. Why, what have you done to your coat, Cal Boland?”