He stopped on his way back from dinner to tell her that he had engaged to take a party of his nephews and nieces nutting that afternoon, and that he wanted her to come.

“It will be so nice to have a big boy on hand, Mollie,” said Mr. John, “especially one that isn’t afraid of heights.  We may have some to climb.”

Not a word about her danger and his gladness for her safety, and she knew he had seen her narrow escape.  But she felt so gay over memories of Mr. John’s nutting parties, and the prospect of another, that she forgave him all, and prepared to be thoroughly happy that afternoon.

School closed at three o’clock, and Mollie flew to Mr. John’s yard, where they were all waiting.  She came dancing by the gate, her cheeks rosy, her eyes shining,—­just her old self, as she had been in the days when no boyhood loomed like an ugly shadow between her and Mr. John.  He saw it all, and charged himself to be stony.  So he gave no better response to her impulsive greeting than he would have given an ordinary boy.  Her spirits fell a degree; but with those happy children bobbing around her, expecting her to be the happiest of all, they could do nothing but rise again.

Mr. John did not offer to lift her over fences as he lifted the other girls; he even called on her to help the little ones over.  He held back branches that came across other girls’ paths; he let her clear her own way.  He carried Kittie and Bessie, and Esther and Dora, over the brook; he let her splash across on the stones with the boys.  He gallantly made cups and gave the other girls to drink; he suggested to Mollie that she should scoop the water up in her hand, as he was doing for his own use.

She wished many a time before they came to the walnut-trees that she had staid at home.  She wished her boyhood’s days were over, or had never been.  She couldn’t bear Mr. John, and all the children noticed that she moped, and asked her why.

Well, there were no nuts when they got there, Mr. John had known there wouldn’t be.  They should have come much earlier in the day to find these trees full, and the next trees were too far away.  So they concluded to turn their nutting party into a picnic.  They had a basket of provisions, and Mr. John sent the big boys into the next lot to get wood for a fire.  Then came his grand opportunity for crushing Mollie.  He called her, and she ran to him gladly, ready to take him back to her favor on his own terms.

“Please, go and help the boys bring wood for our fire,” he said.  “They have all gone but you.”

She went, but not without giving him a look that actually made him blush for his rudeness.  She went with the aspect of a tragedy queen, and by the time she overtook the boys she had calmly made up her mind to two things:  never, never again to be friends with Mr. John, and to give up her boyhood just to spite him.  But one more temptation still held her.  There was a little cliff over in that next lot, stony and steep, and high enough to make a leap which it was some credit to a boy to achieve.  The boys stood on the edge, measuring the distance with experienced eyes and preparing to go over.