Oh, golly!  Lorraine will cut down the cookies if I don’t tell what happened.  I don’t exactly know what was next, but Dr. Denbigh somehow had me by the collar and gave me a yank, like a big dog does a little one.

“See here, you young limb,” he said, “I’m—­I’m going to—­” and then he suddenly stopped and looked at Peggy and began to chuckle, and Peggy laughed and turned lobster color, and put her face in her hands and just howled.

Of course I grinned too, and then I glanced up at him lovingly and murmured “Jack,” just like Peggy did.

That seemed to sober him, and he considered a minute.  “Listen, Billy,” he began, slowly; “we’re in your power, but I’m going to trust you.”

I just hooted, because there wasn’t much else he could do.  But he didn’t smile, only his eyes sort of twinkled.

“Be calm, my son,” he said.  “You’re a gentleman, I believe, and all I need do is to point out that what you’ve seen and heard is not your secret.  I’m sure you realize that it’s unnecessary to ask you not to tell.  Of course, you’ll never tell one word—­not one word—­” and he glared.  “That’s understood, isn’t it?”

I said, “Yep,” sort of scared.  He’s splendidly big and arrogant, and has that man-eating look, but he’s a peach all the same.

“Are we friends—­and brothers?” he asked, and slid a look at Peg.

“Yep,” I said again, and I meant it.

“Shake,” said Dr. Denbigh, and we shook like two men.

That was about all that happened that day except about my fishing.  There was a very interesting—­but I suppose Lorraine wouldn’t care for that.  It was a good deal of a strain on my feelings not to tell Alice, but of course I didn’t.  But once in awhile I would glance up at Dr. Denbigh trustingly and murmur “Jack,” and he would be in a fit because I’d always do it when the family just barely couldn’t hear.  As soon as Peg came home from college we skipped to the mountains, and she went back from there to college again, and I didn’t have a fair show to get rises out of them together, and in the urgency of ’steen things like pigeons and the new puppy, I pretty nearly forgot their love’s young dream.  I didn’t have a surmise that I was going to be interwoven among it like I was.  I saw Aunt Elizabeth going out with Dr. Denbigh in his machine two or three times, but she’s a regular fusser with men, and he’s got a kind heart, so I wasn’t wise to anything in that.  The day Peg came home for Christmas she was singing like the blue canaries down in the parlor, and I happened to pass Aunt Elizabeth’s door and she was lacing up her shoes.

“Oh, Billy, ask Peggy if she doesn’t want to go for a walk, will you?  There’s a lamb,” she called to me.

So I happened to have intelligence from pristine sources that they went walking.  And after that Peg had a grouch on and was off her feed the rest of the vacation—­nobody knew why—­I didn’t myself, even, and it didn’t occur to me that Aunt Elizabeth had probably been rubbing it in how well she knew Dr. Denbigh.  The last day Peggy was home, at the table, they were chaffing Aunt Elizabeth about him, the way grown-ups do, instead of talking about the facts of life and different kinds of horse-feed, which is important in the winter.  And I heard mother say in a “sort-of-vochy” tone to Peggy: