JACK reached home again a little before six, and, just because he was in a fever of anxiety to know whether Mr. Kayll was at home again, kept strong guard over himself, and walked in as coolly as usual, for he found the front door open.

His eyes glanced quickly round the little parlour as he entered. His father was not there, and, moreover, there was such a cloud of gloom upon everyone that the courage he had been keeping up all day suddenly left him, and his heart sank with a leaden weight. What did this mean? What new misfortune had happened?

Tea was spread, for in trouble or joy children at least must eat. Besides, Madge had found relief from mental excitement in going about her usual duties, poor girl. She was now walking to and fro, with the baby lying quietly in her arms, its little face looking very hot and flushed. The child certainly had all the appearance of sickening for some complaint.

Edie and Bessie were just taking their places at the table, hungry enough to be able to look calmly on any prospect but that of being deprived of food. There was plenty of bread and dripping at all events, and they had had but little dinner.

Mrs. Kayll was occupied in trying to console Jem, who would look on the worst side of everything, and was very unhappy in consequence.

“What’s the news?” asked Jack in a low voice of Madge. “What about father?”

“He’s remanded for a week,” said Madge, stopping before him and rocking herself from one foot to the other. “That means that we shall have to get on without him as well as we can for all that time, though I don’t know how we shall manage to do it.”

“But can’t anything be done?”

Madge shook her head.

“It seems not. And mother says she must get a lawyer to defend him, even if we have to live on bread and water; or else there’s no saying what might happen.”

Jack gazed at her silently for a minute. Then he asked:

“Has mother got any money?”

“Yes, but not much. Father gave a lot to those Colesons.”

“H’m. I think we boys ought to be able to earn enough to live on somehow. I can do with very little myself. What’s the matter with baby?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem at all right, poor darling.”

They both looked round, for Mrs. Kayll had come to the table, and was cutting bread, and talking to the little girls meanwhile.

“We must try and not make ourselves unhappy,” she said. “There are so many worse troubles than this. All we have to do is to be patient, and to be as careful as possible over every halfpenny. You three must stay away from school for the present, and Jem must contrive to get something to do, and with one thing and another I daresay we shall get on pretty well.”“But how was it?” cried Jack. “How could they mistake father for a burglar if he told them his name, and his business, and where he came from, and everything? It’s so absurd.”

“Not altogether so absurd as you think,” his mother answered. “There he was passing the shop that was robbed at a time of night when very few people are out; and though he said he hadn’t a penny about him, when he was searched there were two pounds in his purse. It is very odd, certainly, for though your father took five sovereigns with him, he lent them all to Mrs. Coleson, and he couldn’t account for how he came by those other two in the least. No more can I. If it hadn’t been for them, I believe he would have been here now.”

Jack listened to this with a rapidly paling face. What he had meant for a pleasant surprise had turned out a most unpleasant one after all; his little joke had very likely done all the mischief. He had been denying himself, scraping and saving for months, working extra hours when by that he could earn a few more pence, and all for this! All to send his own father to prison for a week, and to cause a great deal more than what he had saved to be spent on proving him not guilty of theft. As these thoughts came clearly before him, he stole unnoticed from the room, and went upstairs to sit down in a chair by his own bed and cry as he had hardly cried since he was a baby.

Down-stairs his absence was soon noticed.

“Where’s Jack? He must want his tea,” said Mrs. Kayll.

“I think he went upstairs,” said Madge sighing. “He scarcely stopped to hear about father. He takes things very calmly, does Jack.”

Bessie coloured at Madge’s tone, and became her favourite brother’s champion.

“Jack is too sensible to make a fuss when it won’t do any good. He’s as sorry as anybody else, I know.”

“Well, go and tell him to come to tea, Bessie,” said her mother.

The little girl went at once, and found poor Jack with his face in his hands sobbing. She was quite awe-struck, never remembering to have seen him shed a single tear—her brave manly brother, fourteen years old, who if he hurt himself only whistled, if he were scolded took it in silence, if he were ill kept the fact to himself until somebody found it out. Her Jack—crying!

She was half inclined to creep away again, feeling as though she had no business to have found him out, as he had come away here alone. But altering her mind she went and wound her arms round his neck, kissed him, called him her “dear old Jack,” dried his eyes with her own pocket-handkerchief, and cried too.

Jack sobbed on for a few minutes, then suddenly sprang to his feet, dashed his sleeve across his eyes, and tossed back his hair.

“I won’t!” he said. “What’s the good? Don’t tell them, Bessie. I’m worse than a girl!”

“And they all say you don’t care!” murmured his sister half to herself.

“Let them!” Jack returned proudly, pouring out some cold water and washing his face vigorously till the marks of tears disappeared, and the redness was not only in his eyelids but everywhere else as well. “Does it show? Will they suspect me?”

Bessie shook her head.

“There’s no fear of that. If you went down with the tears standing on your cheeks they’d only think you’d been laughing.”

Jack seemed relieved by this view of the case, and stood for a few seconds thinking, whereupon all his composure vanished, his lip quivered, and a fresh rush of tears came to his eyes. He turned quickly away, fighting to keep them back, while Bessie took his hand and held it, puzzled and half frightened.

“Is it all about father?” she asked timidly.

“It’s all,” began the boy, choking back a sob, “because I was such a great stupid idiot! Don’t tell the others, but those two pounds were mine. I worked so hard, and saved them—to please father when he was hard up, and then instead of just giving them to him and saying so, I must put them in his purse for a joke, and make no end of mischief.”“Never mind, Jack. It can’t be helped. And they can tell the magistrate so, you know, and then it will be all right.”

“Not for a week!” groaned Jack, washing his face again. “There! That’s over!” he added, drying it vigorously. “You won’t see me make such a goose of myself again in a hurry. Bessie, if you tell anyone I’ve been crying I’ll never forgive you.”