“Sh! Everyone’s asleep but me. Oh, I thought you were dead!”
“Good Heaven’s—why? It isn’t late.”
“It’s nearly twelve. Everyone’s been in bed for ages. We couldn’t imagine what had become of you—”
“Well, I must say I don’t see why there’s so much fuss. I just walked over to Goldsboro to see what was going on, and fooled around there for a while. It was later than I thought when I went out, and when I found out I’d miss supper, I thought I might as well take a good walk, and get something to eat over there.”
“Oh,—well we couldn’t imagine—you’d better walk softly, Paul.”
For some reason, Paul suddenly chose to think that Jane was reproving him.
“I don’t see why I can’t be a little late without everyone’s getting so worked up over it. Do you mean to say that I mustn’t leave the house without telling everyone exactly what time I’ll be back?” he grumbled. “Gee whiz! Life isn’t worth living if you have to be worrying every minute—”
“Sh-sh, Paul! You’ll wake everybody up,” whispered Jane. He subsided a little, but was still muttering indignantly when he parted from her and tiptoed cautiously up to his room.
The next morning at breakfast, Mr. Lambert asked him casually what had delayed him, and appeared quite satisfied at his off-hand answer.
“And how did you get in? Everything is always locked at ten, as you know.”