"Yes," she again replied. And at that I repaid her in her own coin, putting my arms about her and kissing her. She took it meekly enough, but said, "But you were, oh, so silly." I laughed, but she continued, more gravely than I had yet heard her speak, "It'll always be there. Just under your hair. A big cut." "Nothing," I said. And when the bleeding was staunched I suggested resuming the game. But Jenny looked about her and said it was growing dark, and suddenly added, "And I'm, oh, so hungry." She laid her hands shamelessly upon the empty member that was demanding nourishment, looking me straight in the eyes as though this was a serious matter. "I'm hungry too," I said, suddenly realizing that my whole body was crying imperiously for food. So together we went into the house and found Jenny's father waiting for us, and some savoury soup steaming on the table. We said not a word, but sat down in our places and lapped up the comforting broth with unctuous smackings, leaning back at the same moment with a profound sigh of relish.... Too soon came the hour of parting. As I said good-bye the vision of what awaited me at school began to take form in my mind. "You'll come to-morrow," said Jenny. But I knew that on the morrow I should be expiating the offence of to-day, so I answered rather sadly, "No, not to-morrow." "But you must," she said. "But I can't," I answered. "Why not?" she demanded. But how could I tell her of the punishment that awaited me? "I can't tell you," I said. "You must tell me, you _must_," she cried fiercely, stamping her foot. "I can't, Jenny," I said again. She looked at me a moment and asked, "Is it because I hurt you?" "You didn't hurt me," I answered. "Yes, I did," she declared, "and that's why you won't come." "No, you didn't," I contradicted her, "and that isn't why I won't come." "Then why, Tommy?" she asked, with a sudden change to a soft coaxing tone. "I can't tell you," was all I could say, feeling very stupid. Again she stamped, and said, "Then I won't kiss you." "I'm sorry," I said, and turned to go. But she sprang after me and cried, "Oh, Tommy, _do_ tell me." At this I turned and fled, shouting, "I can't, I _can't_." I ran down the path to the gate, and came face to face with Jenny's father. He had evidently been waiting for me. He caught me in his tight grip, and looking sternly at me said, "Remember, it's the ghost that cries at night-time." "Yes," I answered, "the ghost. I know. I've heard it." "And seen it," he went on. "And seen it," I admitted. "Very well, very well," he patted me on the shoulder, and as I bade him good night and turned to go he added, "And if anyone wants to know who the new tenant is, remember it's Field: Captain Field." "You _are_ a captain?" I cried. "How do you mean?" he demanded with a swift return to his fiercer manner. "Why," I replied, "I like captains. You'll tell me stories."