And, as might be expected, he fell in with some other
choice spirits on the return journey, and was soon on his knees
by the roadside playing marbles.
He lost ten, exclusive of his best agate, fought a boy who had
unlawfully possessed himself of his most cherished "conny," and
returned home with saddened spirits an hour later, only to find
as he went through the gate that he had lost Aldith's dainty
little note.
Now Meg had promised him eight chocolate walnuts on his return,
and if this same boy had one weakness more pronounced than others,
it was his extreme partiality for this kind of confectionery, and
he had not tasted one for weeks, so no wonder it almost broke his
heart to think they would be forfeited.
"I know she'll be stingy enough to say I haven't earned them, just
'cause I dropped that girl's stupid letter," he said to himself,
miserably, "and I don't suppose there was anything in it but
'Dearest Marguerite, let us always tell each other our secrets';
I heard her say that twice, and of course she writes it, too."
Then temptation came upon him swiftly, suddenly.
By nature Bunty was the most arrant little storyteller ever born,
and it was only Judy's fearless honesty and strongly expressed
scorn for equivocation that had kept him moderately truthful.
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