“It isn’t anything really,” said Jeremy very quickly. “I mean that it isn’t anything you need mind. They dared me to run round the cathedral twice when the clock struck twelve, and I did it, and ran home and climbed into your house by mistake.” “Who’s they?” asked Miss Mackenzie, gathering her quilt more closely about her. “Bill Bartlett and Ernest Sampson,” he said, as though that must tell her everything. “The Dean’s son, you know; and I don’t like him, so when he dares me to anything I must do it, you see.” “I don’t see at all,” said Miss Mackenzie. “It was a very wicked and silly thing to do. There are plenty of people I don’t like, but I don’t run round the cathedral just to please them.” “Oh, I didn’t run round it to _please_ him!” Jeremy said indignantly. “I don’t want to please him, of course. But he said that I wouldn’t do it and he would, whereas, as a matter of fact, I did and he didn’t.” “As a matter of fact,” picked up from the drawing-room, was just then a very favourite phrase of his. “Well, you’ll get it hot from your father,” said Miss Mackenzie, “when he knows about it.” “Oh, but perhaps he won’t know,” said Jeremy eagerly. “The house looks all dark, and perhaps Hamlet didn’t wake up.” “Hamlet?” repeated Miss Mackenzie. “Yes; that’s my dog.” “Oh, that hateful dog that sometimes looks through the railings into my garden as though he would like to come in and tear up all my flowers. He’d better try, that’s all.” “He isn’t hateful,” said Jeremy. “He’s a splendid dog. He had a fight a little while ago, and was nearly killed, but he didn’t care. He just grinned.” “He won’t grin if I get hold of him,” said Miss Mackenzie. “Now what are you going to do about it when your father knows you’ve been out like this?” “Oh, he mustn’t know!” said Jeremy. “You’re not going to tell him, are you?” “Of course I am,” said Miss Mackenzie. “I can’t have little boys climbing into my house after midnight and then do nothing about it!” “Oh, please, please!” said Jeremy. “Don’t do anything this time. I promise never to do it again. It would be dreadful if father knew. It’s so important that the holidays should end well. They began so badly. You won’t tell him, will you?” “Of course I will,” said Miss Mackenzie. “First thing in the morning. I shall ask him to whip you and to allow me to be present during the ceremony. There’s nothing that I love like seeing little boys whipped—especially naughty little boys.” For a moment Jeremy thought that she meant it. Then he caught sight of her twinkling eye. “No, you won’t,” he said confidently. “You’re just trying to frighten me. But I’m not frightened. I go back to school day after to-morrow, so they can’t do much anyway.” “If I let you off,” she said, “you’ve got to promise me something. You’ve got to promise me that you’ll come and read to me twice every day during next holidays!” “Oh, Lord!”