Molly nodded, quite enjoying this excitement in her usually placid
sister.

"Then I must go after him, and leave you to tend Neddie. Oh, _why_
can't people mind their own affairs?"

Poor Sara, trembling all over, started hastily towards the wardrobe for
her outer wraps, when a stamping outside the door arrested her, and in a
moment the boy entered, knocking the last bit of snow from his boots as
he did so.

Sara's eyes, bent upon him, discovered something in his expression which
made her cry out,--"Morton, what have you been doing?"

"Doing? Why"--

"Tell me the truth!" she commanded, almost fiercely.

He turned upon Molly with sudden anger.

"Have you been tattling? I'll bet you have!"

"No, but I told Sara; you didn't tell me not to."

"Lots of good 'twould have done, if I had! You never kept a thing in
your life--never!"

"Did, too, Morton Olmstead!" her pout melting swiftly into a mischievous
smile.