“No, I don’t believe it is he,” Adele answered with a gleam of mischief in her eye. “I have always believed it is Polly. I saw Eb sitting on her head whispering things in her ear one day, when I was coming to your house, so maybe he puts her up to it.”
“You are so silly, Adele,” returned Jessie impatiently, and turning away.
Adele ran after. “Don’t get mad, Jessie. Please don’t. I was only fooling, but it is such fun to pretend things about Polly. If you won’t get mad, I will tell you a secret; a very great secret. Say you aren’t mad.”
“I’m not so very mad,” Jessie answered, the prospect of a secret being more than she could withstand.
The children were in the attic snuggled near the heater, for it had suddenly grown quite cold. “Guess who the secret is about,” said Adele.
“About us?”
“You and me, do you mean? Well, partly.”
“Is Dapple Gray coming home?”
Adele looked grave. “No, not yet, though papa said the other day that he was very sure I could have him some time, if I kept on improving. I’ll tell you who the secret is about and then you can guess some more. It is about Miss Eloise.”
“Is she going away?” asked Jessie in alarm, for she had become very fond of her teacher.