"Where have you been, my son?" said the parson, trying to be severe. "You should not have gone off in this manner for the whole day without asking permission."
Rob's bright smile faded a little; but Bertha said, quickly, "Please, papa, don't scold Rob. If you only knew—"
"Hush, Bertha!" said Rob; and red as his cheeks were, they grew redder.
"I am sorry you are offended, sir. I did not mean to be so long. We were detained."
"What detained you?"
"And where did you get your dinner?" asked mamma.
"Oh, we had plenty to eat."
"But you don't intend us to know where you got it?"
"No, sir," said Rob, frankly.
"Now, papa, you shall not scold Rob," said Bertha, putting her hand in his. "Come into your study. Go away, Rob; go give Jip his supper. Come, mamma;" and Bertha dragged them both in to the fire, where, with sparkling eyes and cheeks like carnation, she began to talk: "Mamma, you remember that scrimmage Rob got into with the village boys last Fourth of July, and how hatefully they knocked him down, and how bruised his eye was for a long time?"