Patricia sprang forward, locked the door, took Arabella by the shoulder, and pushed her toward a chair. Surprised, and calmed by Arabella's silence, and her attempt to leave the room, Patricia now spoke in an injured tone.
"I'd never believe you'd start to go out, when I'd just come in so vexed, and with loads of things to tell you. For goodness' sake, can't you answer?"
"You told me not to say a word," said Arabella, "and you looked so cross that I just didn't dare to, and I was going out so I'd be sure not to."
Patricia was flattered to learn that Arabella had actually been afraid of her. "Goosie!" she cried, "when will you learn that I don't always mean all that I say! Old Sharp-eyes didn't really open my bundle. Come over here and see what was hidden in it."
She opened the parcel of gaily-flowered cotton, and began to unfold the goods.
"There!" she cried when the last fold was loosed, and six packages were proudly displayed.
"Good gracious!" cried Arabella, "I don't see how you got inside the door with all those things, for I saw her pinching your bundle, and you'd think that she must have felt those little parcels even if they were wrapped inside that cloth."
"Well, you may be very sure she didn't feel them, for if she had, I'd never had them to show you."
It was, indeed, a fixed rule at Glenmore that pupils, except by special permission, should bring no food into the building, the reason being that plenty of good food was provided at meal times, and eating between meals was forbidden.
Patricia's idea of a "treat" was a variety of all sorts, but never a thought had she as to whether the articles that she chose would combine well.