"Oh, yes, you do! I saw you with you and Hope with your fishing rods, and I perceive from the white clay on your boots where you have been. You've been fishing in the clay pits, haven't you?" "Y—es," Gerald answered hesitatingly. "Hope has a new aquarium, and he asked me to go with him and catch some fish to put in it—those in the clay pits are just the size and sort he wants. We didn't have much sport this afternoon, though; we shall have to go again." "What have you done with your rod?" Gilbert questioned curiously. "Oh, I left it at Hope's house." "Because you didn't want your sister to see you return with it, I suppose," the other remarked with a slight sneer. "What made you tell her a lie, and say you were going to play cricket?" "Oh, I say, I wish you'd mind your own business," Gerald cried hotly. "Why need you interfere? It's nothing to do with you. You've no right to say I told a lie." "But you did!" Gilbert declared in cold accents of disgust. Gerald's eyes fell beneath the other's accusing glance. For a minute the lame boy hesitated whether to continue the conversation or not; then he said— "Of course, it's nothing to do with me, really; but it's so—so dishonourable to wilfully mislead any one. Your sister told me you had gone to the cricket-field—I knew you had not. I was—" "Did you tell her so?" Gerald interrupted in dismay. "No." "That's all right, then. It doesn't do to let girls know everything, and Angel's awfully curious." "Why didn't you tell her the truth? There was no harm in your going fishing." Gerald was silent He had no intention of acknowledging that the neighbourhood of the clay pits was forbidden ground to him. "I know Reginald Hope thinks lightly of honour and truthfulness," Gilbert proceeded, "but I'm surprised you should let him influence you. I say, Willis, if I were you I'd knock off being so friendly with him, I would indeed. No good will come of your intercourse with him, I feel sure of that. I believe he has you under his thumb already." "You mind your own business!" Gerald retorted rudely. "Hope's a great friend of mine, and I'm not going to stand here and listen to you running out against him. You're jealous of him, that's what you are, because he's so much more popular at school than you are yourself." The passionate colour flamed to Gilbert's face, but he calmed his temper with an effort as he responded with unusual gentleness and forbearance— "You're making a mistake, Willis, and you'll find it out some day."