Bobbie, with fine disdain. "I don't want to know about your silly ideas."

"You'll know some day," said Peter, keeping his own temper by what looked exactly like a miracle; "if you hadn't been so keen on a row, I might have told you about it, being only noble-heartedness that made me not tell you my idea. But now I shan't tell you anything at all about it—so there!"?

And it was, indeed, some time before he could be induced to say anything, and when he did it wasn't much. He said:—

"The only reason why I won't tell you my idea that I'm going to do is because it may be wrong, and I don't want to drag you into it."

"Don't you do it if it's wrong, Peter," said Bobbie; "let me do it.". But Phyllis said:—

"I should like to do wrong if you're going to!"

"No," said Peter, rather touched by this devotion; "it's a forlorn hope, and I'm going to lead it. All I ask is that if Mother asks where I am, you won't blab."

"We haven't got anything to blab," said Bobbie, indignantly.

"Oh, yes, you have!" said Peter, dropping horse-beans through his fingers. "I've trusted you to