BEGINNINGS
Sunday afternoon, Pauline and Patience drove over to The Maples to see Hilary. They stopped, as they went by, at the postoffice for Pauline to mail a letter to her uncle, which was something in the nature of a very enthusiastic postscript to the one she had written him Friday night, acknowledging and thanking him for his cheque, and telling him of the plans already under discussion.
"And now," Patience said, as they turned out of the wide main street, "we're really off. I reckon Hilary'll be looking for us, don't you?"
"I presume she will," Pauline answered.
"Maybe she'll want to come back with us."
"Oh, I don't believe so. She knows mother wants her to stay the week out. Listen, Patty—"
Patience sat up and took notice. When people Pattied her, it generally meant they had a favor to ask, or something of the sort.
"Remember, you're to be very careful not to let Hilary suspect—anything."
"About the room and—?"
"I mean—everything."