and you just put that on and go to bed, and mother
will never know when she kisses you good night.
Then after the roast I will go to your house, and
climb up that tree, and go to bed in your room. And
I will have one of your gingham dresses to wear, and
very early in the morning I will get up, and you get
up, and we both of us can get down the back stairs
without being seen, and run home."

Amelia was almost weeping. It was her worshiped
Lily's plan, but she was horribly scared. "I don't
know," she faltered.

"Don't know! You've got to! You don't love
me one single bit or you wouldn't stop to think about
whether you didn't know." It was the world-old
argument which floors love. Amelia succumbed.

The next evening a frightened little girl clad in
one of Lily Jennings's white embroidered frocks was
racing to the Jenningses' house, and another little
girl, not at all frightened, but enjoying the stimulus
of mischief and unwontedness, was racing to the wood
behind Dr. Trumbull's house, and that little girl was
clad in one of Amelia Wheeler's ginghams. But the
plan went all awry.

Lily waited, snuggled up behind an alder-bush,
and the boys came, one by one, and she heard this
whispered, although there was no necessity for whis-