"I don't know why Jack finds this so amusing. It is not so to my mind; but if you are quite sure that I was not here, and that I did not call upon Mrs. Parker, I must ask you to drive down with me at once and state the facts to her. I cannot have it insinuated that I am no longer capable of judging for myself, and of knowing what I do and what I don't do. She actually told me to my face that I was getting childish. What _would_ Silas say? But I'll never tell him that. I would like to go at once." Alas, there was no help for it. Cynthia must confess. If only Jack had not been there! She rose from the step where she had been sitting, and standing in front of her little grandaunt she spoke very rapidly. "You are right, and so is Mrs. Parker. You weren't here, but I dressed up and went to see her. I pretended I was you. I found your other false--I mean your new hair. You left it in the drawer. I looked just like you, and we thought it would be such fun. I'm awfully sorry, Aunt Betsey, indeed I am. It wasn't such great fun, after all." At first Miss Betsey was speechless. Then she rose in extreme wrath. [Illustration: "CYNTHY FRANKLIN, IT IS MORE THAN TIME YOU HAD A MOTHER."] "Cynthy Franklin, it is more than time you had a mother. I never supposed you could be so--impertinent; yes, impertinent! Made yourself look like me, indeed, and going to my most intimate friend! Poor Mrs. Parker. There's no knowing what she might have said, thinking it was I. And I telling her to-day she was out of her mind, and various other things I'm distressed to think of. Why, _Cynthy_!" "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry," cried Cynthia, bursting into tears. "Do forgive me, Aunt Betsey." "I am not ready to forgive you just yet, and whether I ever will or not remains to be proved. I am disappointed in you all. Edith going and shutting herself up when I come, because she doesn't want a step-mother, and you making fun of an aged aunt--not so very aged either. Why, when Silas hears this I just dread to think what he'll say. I am going home at once, Jack. You are the only well-behaved one among them. You may drive me to the train." "Oh, Aunt Betsey, not to-day! Please don't go." "I couldn't answer for my tongue if I staid here to-night. I had best go home and think it out. When I remember all I said to Maria Parker, and all she said to me, I'm about crazy, just as she said I was." And presently she drove away, sitting very stiff and very erect in the old buggy that had held her prototype two weeks before, and Cynthia was left in tears, with one more calamity added to her already burdened soul. Why had she ever played a practical joke? If she lived a hundred years she never would again. Edith heard the news of Aunt Betsey's sudden departure in silence, and Cynthia received no sympathy from her. And very soon it was temporarily forgotten in preparations for the advent of the bride.