"Now, Leveson—when I kept that secret about mother's birthday present for a whole six weeks!"
"Ah, that was a different thing. And hints and conscious looks will not do here."
"I am sure I shall look conscious now," said Josie. "And mother will ask me why, and I shall tell her I don't know, so she had better ask you."
"Not if I ask you to tell her no such thing!"
"Oh, but do tell me your secret, Leveson. Indeed you may trust me. Oh, do."
Leveson shook his head, and looked out of the window.
"What is it about?" asked Josie. "Nothing bad, I suppose. No, I can see that in your face. Is it very good?"
"Almost too good to be true—if true," muttered Leveson. "I hardly dare to hope, and yet—it seems more than probable—"
"Leveson! It's about Vi," exclaimed Josie, starting up with a shriek.
"Hush, hush, Josie. I am very unwise to say so much."