"He wouldn't care if I had fallen and been killed," thought Mollie, as
she recovered herself. "All he wants is to have me succeed in being a
horrid boy. I've a mind to give it up just to spite him."

She could not know--so successfully had he concealed his agitation
under that bland smile--how faint he, too, had been in the moment of
her danger, nor how fast his heart was still beating as he walked on,
nor what resolves he was forming to put a speedy end to her boyhood.

He stopped on his way back from dinner to tell her that he had engaged
to take a party of his nephews and nieces nutting that afternoon, and
that he wanted her to come.

"It will be so nice to have a big boy on hand, Mollie," said Mr. John,
"especially one that isn't afraid of heights. We may have some to
climb."

Not a word about her danger and his gladness for her safety, and she
knew he had seen her narrow escape. But she felt so gay over memories
of Mr. John's nutting parties, and the prospect of another, that she
forgave him all, and prepared to be thoroughly happy that afternoon.

School closed at three o'clock, and Mollie flew to Mr. John's yard,
where they were all waiting. She came dancing by the gate, her cheeks
rosy, her eyes shining,--just her old self, as she had been in the
days when no boyhood loomed like an ugly shadow between her and Mr.
John. He saw it all, and charged himself to be stony. So he gave no
better response to her impulsive greeting than he would have given an
ordinary boy. Her spirits fell a degree; but with those happy children