So, feeling rather remorseful, he went off to talk it over with Gus, leaving Jill in a fever of curiosity, for Merry and Molly had dropped in on their way home to break the blow to her, and Frank declined to discuss it with her, after mildly stating that Jack was "a ninny," in his opinion.
"Well, I know one thing," said Jill confidentially to Snow-ball, when they were left alone together, "if every one else is scolding him I won't say a word.

It's so mean to crow over people when they are down, and I'm sure he hasn't done anything to be ashamed of, though he won't tell." Snow-ball seemed to agree to this, for he went and sat down by Jack's slippers waiting for him on the hearth, and Jill thought that a very touching proof of affectionate fidelity to the little master who ruled them both.
When he came, it was evident that he had found it harder to refuse his mother than all the rest.

But she trusted him in spite of appearances, and that was such a comfort! For poor Jack's heart was very full, and he longed to tell the whole story, but he would not break his promise, and so kept silence bravely.

Jill asked no questions, affecting to be anxious for the games they always played together in the evening, but while they played, though the lips were sealed, the bright eyes said as plainly as words, "I trust you," and Jack was very grateful.
It was well he had something to cheer him up at home, for he got little peace at school.

He bore the grave looks of Mr.Acton meekly, took the boys' jokes good-naturedly, and withstood the artful teasing of the girls with patient silence.