'Hush! hush!' said the aunt, 'do not make your fault worse by untruthfulness. And what have you done with the amethyst ring?' Kenneth was just going to say that he had given it back to Alison, when he saw that this would be sneakish. So he said, getting hot to the ears, 'You don't suppose I've stolen your beastly ring, do you, Auntie?' 'Don't you dare to speak to me like that,' the aunt very naturally replied. 'No, Kenneth, I do not think you would steal, but the ring is missing and it must be found.' Kenneth was furious and frightened. He stood looking down and kicking the leg of the chair. 'You had better look for it. You will have plenty of time, because I shall not allow you to go to the picnic with the others. The mere taking of the jewelry was wrong, but if you had owned your fault and asked Ethel's pardon, I should have overlooked it. But you have told me an untruth and you have lost the ring. You are a very wicked child, and it will make your dear mother very unhappy when she hears of it. That her boy should be a liar. It is worse than being a thief!' At this Kenneth's fortitude gave way, and he lost his head. 'Oh, don't,' he said, 'I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. Oh! don't tell mother I'm a thief and a liar. Oh! Aunt Effie, please, _please_ don't.' And with that he began to cry. Any doubts Aunt Effie might have had were settled by this outbreak. It was now quite plain to her that Kenneth had really intended to keep the ring. 'You will remain in your room till the picnic party has started,' the aunt went on, 'and then you must find the ring. Remember I expect it to be found when I return. And I hope you will be in a better frame of mind and really sorry for having been so wicked.' 'Mayn't I see Alison?' was all he found to say. And the answer was, 'Certainly not. I cannot allow you to associate with your cousins. You are not fit to be with honest, truthful children.' So they all went to the picnic, and Kenneth was left alone. When they had gone he crept down and wandered furtively through the empty rooms, ashamed to face the servants, and feeling almost as wicked as though he had really done something wrong. He thought about it all, over and over again, and the more he thought the more certain he was that he _had_ handed back the ring to Alison last night when the voices of the servants were first heard from the dark lawn. But what was the use of saying so? No one would believe him, and it would be sneaking anyhow. Besides, perhaps he _hadn't_ handed it back to her. Or rather, perhaps he had handed it and she hadn't taken it. Perhaps it had slipped into the boat. He would go and see.