“We could have helped it,” said Juliet, “by not celebrating.  We had no business to buy an automobile, or, even if we had, we shouldn’t have gone out in it until we learned to run it.”

“That’s like staying away from the water until you have learned to swim,” answered Madame, comfortingly, “and Allison isn’t going to die.”

“Really?  Do you mean it?  Are you sure?  How do you know?” The words came all at once, in a jumble of eager questions.

“Because he isn’t.  The worst that could possibly happen to him would be the loss of his left hand, and his father is looking all over the country for some surgeon who can save it.”

“I’d rather die than to have my hand cut off,” said Juliet, in a small, thin voice.

“So would I,” added Romeo.

“We’re all hoping for the best,” Madame went on, “and you must hope, too.  Nobody has thought of blaming you, so you mustn’t feel so badly about it.  Even Allison himself wouldn’t want you to feel badly.”

“But we do,” Romeo answered, “in spite of all the sacrifices and everything.”

“Sacrifices,” repeated Madame, wonderingly, “why, what do you mean?”

“We did sentry duty all night by his car,” Romeo explained, “and we’re taking care of it in our barn.”

“And we’ve lived on mush and milk ever since,” Juliet added.

“I shot all the dogs but the one with the puppies,” said Romeo.

“She wasn’t in it, you know,” Juliet continued.  “I helped dig the trench and we buried the whole nineteen end to end by the fence, with their new collars on.”

“Then we burned the automobile,” resumed Romeo.  “We soaked it in kerosene, and put our suits into the back seat—­our caps and goggles and everything.  We took out all the pieces of iron and steel and gave ’em to the junk man, and then we repented in sackcloth and ashes.”

“How so?” queried Madame, with a faint glimmer of amusement in her sad eyes.

“Juliet made suits out of potato sacks—­very plain suits—­and we put ’em on to repent in.”

“We went and stood in the ashes,” put in Juliet, “while they were so hot that they hurt our feet, and Romie raised his right hand and said ’I repent’ and then I did the same.”

“And after the ashes got cold, we sat down in ’em and rubbed ’em into the sackcloth and our hair and all over our faces and hands.”

“All the time saying ‘I repent!  I repent!’” continued Juliet, soberly.

“And then we went into mourning,” concluded Romeo.

Madame’s heart throbbed with tender pity for the stricken twins, but she wisely said nothing.

“Can you think of anything more we could do, or any more sacrifices we could make?” inquired Juliet, ready to atone in full measure.

“Indeed I can’t,” Madame replied, truthfully.  “I think you’ve done everything that could be expected of you.”

“We wrote to the Colonel,” said Romeo, “but he hasn’t got it yet.  We saw it on the library table.  We want to pay all the bills.”