"I think you might tell me," returned Edna, a little peevishly.
"Don't be cross," said Dorothy, winningly. "I had to promise not to tell; but I did want you to expect something awfully nice."
"When shall I know?"
"To-morrow."
"O, I know what it is. I'm going to take a drive. Your mamma told me."
"That's not all," replied Dorothy, gleefully.
"I can hardly keep from telling, so please don't ask me. Here comes your supper—Mrs. MacDonald has sent you some lovely jelly."
Several times before bedtime Dorothy almost let out the secret, but Edna never suspected, so when the next day the carriage stood waiting to take her to drive she did not in the least know where they were going, nor why.