“Let us get in,” whispered Clemency.  “Quick!”

“I am afraid she won’t budge.”

“Yes, she will for me.  She has a tender mouth, that is why she balks.  You must have pulled too hard on the lines.  Sometimes I have made her go when even Uncle Tom couldn’t.”

Clemency ran around to the gray’s head and patted her, and James untied her.  Then the girl got into the buggy and took the reins, and James followed.  He was almost jostled out, the mare started with such impetus.  They made the distance home almost on a run.

“Oh, I am so glad,” panted Clemency.  “You see I can seem to feel her mouth when I hold the lines, and she knows.  Was poor mother worried?”

“A little.”

“I know she was almost crazy.”

“She will be all right when she sees you safe,” said James.

“Is Uncle Tom home yet?  No, of course I know he isn’t, or he would have come instead of you.  Oh, dear, I know he will scold me.  I shall have to tell him, but I mustn’t tell mother about the man.  What shall I tell her?  It is dreadful to have to lie, but sometimes one would rather run the risk of fire and brimstone for one’s self than have anybody else hurt.  If I tell mother she will have one of her dreadful nervous attacks.  I can’t tell her.  What shall I tell her, Doctor Elliot?”

“I think the simplest thing will be to say that Miss Lipton persuaded you to stay to supper, and so you were late, and I overtook you,” said James.

“Mother will never believe that I stayed so long as that,” said Clemency.  “I shall have to lie more than that.  I don’t know exactly what to say.  I could have Charlie Horton come in to play whist, and be taking me home in his buggy.  He always drives, and you could meet me on the road.”

“Yes, you could do that.”

“It is a very complicated lie,” said Clemency, “but I don’t know that a complicated lie is any worse than a simple one.  I think I shall have to lie the complicated one.  You need not say anything, you know.  You can take the mare to the stable, and I will run in and get the lie all told before you come.  You won’t lie, will you?”

James could not help laughing.  “No, I don’t see any need of it,” he replied.

“It is rather awful for you to have to live with people who have to lie so,” remarked Clemency, “but I don’t see how it can be helped.  If you had seen my mother in one of her nervous attacks once, you would never want to see her again.  There is only one thing, I do feel very weak still, and I am afraid I shall look pale.  Hold the lines a minute.  Don’t pull on them at all.  Let them lie on your knees.”

“What are you doing?” asked James when he had complied.

“Doing?  I am pinching my cheeks almost black and blue, so mother won’t notice.  I don’t talk scared now, do I?”

“Not very.”

“Well, I think I can manage that.  I think I can manage my voice.  I am all over being faint.  Oh, I will tell you what I will do.  You haven’t got your medicine-case with you, have you?”