she rummidged an’ rummidged ‘most all next day an’ pretty near every day since then an’ never did find ’em, until don’t you believe I saw Willie inside of ’em only last night!  He was startin’ over to your house to see Miss Pratt in ‘em!  So I told mamma, an’ she said it ’d haf to be a secret, so that’s why I can’t tell you what they were.  Well, an’ then this afternoon, early, I was with her, an’ she said, long as I had told her the secret in the first place, I could come in Willie’s room with her, an’ we both were already in there anyway, ‘cause I was kind of thinkin’ maybe she’d go in there to look for ’em, Mr. Parcher—­”

“I see,” he said, admiringly.  “I see.”

“Well, they were under Willie’s window-seat, all folded up; an’ mamma said she wondered what she better do, an’ she was worried because she didn’t like to have Willie behave so’s you an’ Mrs. Parcher thought that way about him.  So she said the—­the secret—­what Willie wears, you know, but they’re really papa’s an’ aren’t Willie’s any more’n they’re mine—­well, she said the secret was gettin’ a little teeny bit too tight for papa, but she guessed they—­I mean the secret—­she said she guessed it was already pretty loose for Willie; so she wrapped it up, an’ I went with her, an’ we took ’em to a tailor, an’ she told him to make ’em bigger, for a surprise for papa, ’cause then they’ll fit him again, Mr. Parcher.  She said he must make ’em a whole lot bigger.  She said he must let ’em way, way out!  So I guess Willie would look too funny in ’em after they’re fixed; an’ anyway, Mr. Parcher, the secret won’t be home from the tailor’s for two weeks, an’ maybe by that time Miss Pratt’ll be gone.”

They had reached Mr. Parcher’s gate; he halted and looked down fondly upon this child who seemed to have read his soul.  “Do you honestly think so?” he asked.

“Well, anyway, Mr. Parcher,” said Jane, “mamma said—­well, she said she’s sure Willie wouldn’t come here in the evening any more when YOU’re at home, Mr. Parcher—­’cause after he’d been wearin’ the secret every night this way he wouldn’t like to come and not have the secret on.  Mamma said the reason he would feel like that was because he was seventeen years old.  An’ she isn’t goin’ to tell him anything about it, Mr. Parcher.  She said that’s the best way.”

Her new friend nodded and seemed to agree.  “I suppose that’s what you meant when you said he wasn’t coming back but didn’t know it yet?”

“Yes, Mr. Parcher.”

He rested an elbow upon the gate-post, gazing down with ever-increasing esteem.  “Of course I know your last name,” he said, “but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your other one.”

“It’s Jane.”

“Jane,” said Mr. Parcher, “I should like to do something for you.”

Jane looked down, and with eyes modestly lowered she swallowed the last fragment of the bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar which had been the constantly evanescent companion of their little walk together.  She was not mercenary; she had sought no reward.