“He said he wanted some of the cake for those boys, Gilly Irwin and his cousin; and I told him he might have a piece to-morrow. But he didn’t seem quite satisfied; I remember it now distinctly. He said, ‘It does look so smooth and nice before it is cut up. If Dick could only see it all whole!’”
“What reply did you make?” asked Mr. Dunlee.
“I believe I didn’t make any reply. Do you suppose, now, Jimmy could have thought I meant to give him the cake?”
“Hardly likely,” said Mr. Dunlee. “But there is one possibility I can think of. He may have taken it to show to the boys, intending to bring it back uncut and uninjured. I know he had a basket in his hand; that large one he carries.”
“Did he really have that basket?” returned Mrs. Dunlee. “Then it does look very much as if he put the cake in it! Hush! isn’t that Jimmy’s step in the hall?”
JIMMY-BOY came in swinging his basket on his arm. It was a remarkably pretty Indian basket; and ever since Aunt Vi had given it to him two weeks ago, it had travelled with him wherever he went.
“Jimmy,” said his mother as the little feet reached the threshold, “Jimmy, I would like to see you in the study.”
The tone was grave; the boy looked up in alarm. Mamma was sure to be “in earnest” when she spoke like this, and wished to see him in the study.
The moment they entered the study she closed the door and turned and looked at him. What was she going to say?
“Jamie, O Jamie! did you carry it off in the basket?”
“He speaks very innocently, as if it were quite new to him,” thought his mother.
She took the basket from his hand, and measured it with her eye. Yes, it was large enough; it could easily have held the whole loaf. But it was empty now. If Jimmy had carried off the loaf to show to the boys, he had not brought it back.
“My son, where is the cake I baked and frosted this morning?”
“I don’t know! Why, mamma, you didn’t s’pose _I_ took that cake?”
There was a quiver of pain in the young voice. Mrs. Dunlee looked at her child eagerly, as if she would read his very soul.
“Did you take it, Jamie? You said you wanted to show it to Dick Somers; you wished him to see it before it was cut. Now the cake is gone. Did you take it?”
The tone was very gentle, but it moved Jimmy strangely. He hung his head and burst into tears. Was he sorry he had been found out? Or did it grieve him to be suspected wrongfully?