"In the Library, reading," replied Katy.

Her aunt gave a sort of sniff, but she knew Katy's ways, and said no
more.

"I'm going out to drink tea with Mrs. Hall and attend the evening
Lecture," she went on. "Be sure that Clover gets her lesson, and if Cecy
comes over as usual, you must send her home early. All of you must be in
bed by nine."

"Yes'm," said Katy, but I fear she was not attending much, but thinking,
in her secret soul, how jolly it was to have Aunt Izzie go out for once.
Miss Carr was very faithful to her duties: she seldom left the children,
even for an evening, so whenever she did, they felt a certain sense of
novelty and freedom, which was dangerous as well as pleasant.

Still, I am sure that on this occasion Katy meant no mischief. Like all
excitable people she seldom did _mean_ to do wrong, she just did it when
it came into her head. Supper passed off successfully, and all might
have gone well, had it not been that after the lessons were learned and
Cecy had come in, they fell to talking about "Kikeri."

Kikeri was a game which had been very popular with them a year before.
They had invented it themselves, and chosen for it this queer name out
of an old fairy story. It was a sort of mixture of Blindman's Buff and
Tag--only instead of any one's eyes being bandaged, they all played in
the dark. One of the children would stay out in the hall, which was
dimly lighted from the stairs, while the others hid themselves in the
nursery. When they were all hidden, they would call out "Kikeri," as a
signal for the one in the hall to come in and find them. Of course,