hands still in his pockets, but his hat now was drawn low over his eyes.
"Poor little man!" she sighed. She knew there were tears under the brim.
The mid-day recess did not improve matters. Kit continued to maintain his sullen silence, and this time Judy did not attempt to break it. He found her busy finishing a flannel blouse which she had made for him to wear in some athletic sports that were to take place on the next day. They had modelled this garment between them, and the sight of her thus employed brought up the troublesome lump to his throat again. He made no overture to a peace, however, but finished his meal and hurried back to his lessons. Judy followed him to the door, and watched the little figure out of sight. When he reached the corner whose turning shut him from her view, he looked back and saw her standing there.
"Oh, Judy, Judy!" It was a genuine sob that burst from him as he hastened on.
"Dear, dear little Judy! But she finished the blouse just the same."
Altogether it was proving the most miserable day of Kit's young existence, and he could never look back upon it without a certain degree of suffering.
When school was dismissed, he set out for the athletic grounds with several companions for an hour's final practice against to-morrow's contests. Within hearing distance behind him were Morgan and his cohorts, bound for the same destination and with the same object in view. Kit was bent on excelling to-morrow—partly, to be sure, to outdo the other boys, but more than all just now to make Judy proud of him again. She would be there to see him, seated in the comfortable little phaeton behind Annie.
