"Come here—please," and when Patience was safely inside the pantry,
Pauline shut the door gently—"Now see here, Impatience—"
"That isn't what you called me just now!"
"Patty then—Listen, suppose—suppose I have been—trying to do something to—to help Hilary to get well; can't you see that I wouldn't want her to know, until I was sure, really sure, it was going to come to something?"
Patience gave a little jump of excitement. "How jolly! But who have you been writing to—about it, Paul!"
"I haven't said that—"
"See here, Paul, I'll play fair, if you do; but if you go trying to act any 'grown-up sister' business I'll—"
And Pauline capitulated. "I can't tell you about it yet, Patty; father said not to. I want you to promise not to ask questions, or say anything about it, before Hilary. We don't want her to get all worked up, thinking something nice is going to happen, and then maybe have her disappointed."
"Will it be nice—very nice?"
"I hope so."
"And will I be in it?"