seemed to look through it; a merry glint came into her eyes.

“I was afraid somebody was dead,” said she. “You rung so loud, and you looked so terrible solemn, both of you.”

“Solemn?” echoed Fred; and then it was he, not Mary, who broke down and smiled.

“Mr. Lee’s gone to a funeril,” continued Hannah, looking through and through the parcel again; “but I’ll give it to him when he comes home, and tell him who brought it.”

Did Fred wish her to tell him? He began to doubt it.

“Come, Flaxie, we must go.”

“Fred,” said the little girl, as they hurried out of the gate, “I can’t help thinking; shan’t we feel sorry next Sunday?”

“Nonsense!” returned her cousin. He had already thought about Sunday, and fancied himself looking up to the pulpit to meet Mr. Lee’s eye. Had he been quite respectful to that learned and excellent man?

“Nonsense! ministers are no better than other folks!”

It was too late to repent; but he wished now he had waited till afternoon and thought of all the possible consequences. Perhaps the fun wouldn’t pay. These doubts, however, he did not mention to the boys at school, but told them he had made “a splendid fool” of the minister.

That evening, as he and Mary stood by the carriage-way gate, and he was opening it for Dr. Gray to drive into the yard, who should be passing on the other side of the street, but Mr. Lee.

“How do you do, Dr. Gray,” said he; and came over to do a trivial errand, which Fred fancied must have been made up for the occasion; it was something about a book which he wished to borrow some time, not now. Then, turning to guilty Fred, who had not dared slip away,—

“Good evening, Master Fred,” with extreme politeness; “I was very sorry not to be at home this morning when you left your card.”

Your card! Those were his words.

“My card! Does he think I signed myself April Fool? My goodness, so I did! People always put their own names on their visiting-cards, sure enough! It’s I that am the April Fool, and nobody else,” thought the outwitted boy, not venturing to look up.

A blush mounted to Mary’s forehead, and she too looked at the ground.

“Pray call again, Master Fred,” said Mr. Lee; and his manner was as respectful as if Fred had been at least a supreme judge.

“What’s all this?” asked the doctor sternly as the clergyman walked away.

“’Twas a little kind of a—a joke, you know, sir, for fun. I didn’t mean anything. I like Mr Lee first rate,” stammered Fred, scanning his boots, as if to decide whether they were big enough for him to crawl into and hide.

Dr. Gray never needed to be told more than half a story.

“Oh, I see! You’ve made an April Fool of yourself. Ha, ha! Mr. Lee is too sharp for you, is he? And so, Mary, you went with Fred?”

The doctor looked grave. It was not easy to let this pass. “Wait here, both of you, till I come back,” said he, driving into the stable.

“This is a great go,” thought Fred. “Hope the boys won’t hear of it.”

“Fred,” said Dr. Gray, returning,—and he spoke with displeasure,—“I am disappointed in you. And in you too, Mary.”

“Oh, papa,” wailed a little voice from under Mary’s hat. Her head was bowed, and her tears were falling.

“I was the one that thought of it; I was the one that asked her to go,” spoke up Fred, all the manliness in him stirred by his cousin’s tears.

“No doubt you were; and I’m glad to hear you acknowledge it,” said Dr. Gray, resting his hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “But Mary knew better than to be led away by you. My daughter, jests of this sort may be tolerated in your own family or among your schoolmates; but do you think they are suitable to be played upon ministers?”

“No, sir,” sobbed Mary.

“Well, then, let this be a lesson to you.” This was a favorite speech with the doctor. “Kiss me, my child; and now run into the house. I shall never refer to this matter again, and it is not necessary to mention it to your mother. But Fred,” he added, as Mary swiftly escaped, “do you think your conduct has been gentlemanly and courteous? Ought you to have taken this liberty with a comparative stranger,—a person, too, of Mr. Lee’s high character?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you think your mother would be pleased to hear of it?”

“I know she wouldn’t,” admitted Fred frankly.

Dr. Gray’s countenance softened.

“I don’t like to be harsh with you, for you meant no impertinence; still, if I am to treat you as my own child, as your parents desire, I believe I shall have to bid you ask Mr. Lee’s pardon. What say you to that? It’s the way I should treat Preston.”

“All right,” replied Fred sadly.