“Why, don't you remember we are not to tell any one what we are to wear; not even the color of our dominoes?” Arabella asked in surprise.
“Well, we didn't promise not to tell,” said Patricia, “and, anyway, I'm going to tell you. Ma has made me a Spanish dress, all spangles, and red ribbons, and gold tinsel, and my domino that will cover it for the first of the evening will be bright yellow! I've told you, Arabella Corryville, because now you'll know which I am, as soon as you see me, and you'll be just mean if you don't tell me now what you're going to wear.”
Arabella hesitated.
“Dorothy wouldn't like to have us tell,” she said.
“Well, we needn't tell her we told, and what about me? Here I've treated you to candy and ice cream, and told you all about my costume. If you were half-nice, you'd think you ought to tell me about yours.”
Patricia's voice sounded grieved, and Arabella wavered.
Ought she to tell? She knew she ought not, but Patricia urged again.
“And I was going to say we could each wear a blue ribbon on the third buttonhole of our dominoes, so we'd know each other the minute we got there. And, say,” she continued, “have you ever been all over the stone house?”
“Not in every room,” said Arabella.
“Have you been in the observatory?”