"I suppose," said Cynthia, sagely, "mamma would have just given it to you without saying anything, while papa will ask questions."
"That's just about the size of it. And he will not only ask the questions, but he won't like the answers. I think I won't tackle them for a hundred all at once. I'll put it at fifty, and try to get Bronson to wait for the rest. I suppose I'll get some tips at Christmas-time."
"I think it would be ever so much better, Neal, to tell the whole truth. It will save ever so much trouble in the end."
"But it won't save trouble now, and I hate a fuss. The fifty business will be bad enough. I like to take things quietly."
"That's just it, Neal. Do take my advice, and tell mamma the whole thing."
"That's the worst of telling a girl anything. They always want to give advice. I wonder why it is that a woman from her earliest years loves to advise?"
"Much you know about it," said Cynthia; "and you needn't have told me about your scrape if you didn't want me to say anything."
"Well, I've told you now, and you must give me your word of honor that you will never give me away. Now promise, Cynthia."
"Of course I'll promise, Neal. I wouldn't tell it for the world if you don't want me to. But, oh, I wish you would tell the whole thing yourself!"
But Neal was obdurate: and when he found how his brother-in-law received his demand for fifty dollars he thought he had acted wisely.