was left to show that the afternoon had been slightly out of the
ordinary. That and the tray of glasses Betty had unfortunately left
on the draining board of the sink, intending to wash them with the
supper dishes.

"Whose glasses, and what's been in 'em?" demanded Mr. Peabody
suspiciously. "There's sugar in the bottom of one of 'em. You haven't
been making lemonade?" He turned to his wife accusingly.

Bob had not come home yet, and there was only Ethan, the hired man,
Betty, and the Peabodys at the supper table.

"I made lemonade," said Betty quietly. "Those are my own glasses I
bought in Glenside, and the sugar and lemons were mine, too. So were
the cakes."

This silenced Peabody, for he knew that Betty's uncle sent her money
from time to time, and though he fairly writhed to think that she
Could spend it so foolishly, he could not interfere.

As soon as it was dark the Peabody household retired, to save
lighting lamps, and this evening was no exception. Betty learned from
a stray question Mrs. Peabody put to Ethan, the hired man, that Bob
was not expected home until ten or eleven o'clock. There was no
thought of sitting up for him, though Betty knew that in all
likelihood he would have had no supper, having no money and knowing
no one in Trowbridge.

She was not sleepy, and having brushed and braided her hair for the
night, she threw her sweater over her dressing gown and sat down at