“But how?”
“When Aunt Patty went down to breakfast the matron was standing in the doorway supposedly saying good-morning to the girls but she was really playing detective, or better, bloodhound. She had been doing some desperate thinking, too, and had found an excellent clue. Carefully she looked down on each girl who entered. Not that one, nor that one. She was about to despair when Aunt Pattie came tripping in, in her flowered cashmere.
“Pattie come to my office immediately after your meal.”
“Aunt Pattie pitifully murmured, ‘yes, ma’am.’ She was dumbfounded.”
“But how did she know it was Pattie?”
“She had been sniffing each girl and when Aunt Pattie passed she simply reeked of kerosene. When she upset the lamp she had baptized herself in oil. Scrubbing had changed her appearance but the smell lingered.
“What did they do to her?”
“Sent her home I think. Aunt Pattie always avoided that part. She didn’t want me to know any of my family had ever been kicked out.”
The candle was out and the fudge had disappeared miraculously.
“We’d better get to bed, I expect,” Sue suggested. Full and warm, she was ready to cuddle down.