“Then I don’t know whether I ought to tell it. It seems unfair to do so. It seems, indeed, like speaking ill of her family behind her back. She might not like it,” said Alberta, hesitating.
“Then, don’t do it,” urged Erminie.
“Do!” insisted Elfie.
“Well, you see, I never knew a word of it myself until last Easter holidays, when I was home on a visit, and heard it by the merest accident. For you know she never mentions a word about her family.”
“No, never; except sometimes to allude to the maiden aunt who pays her school bills. But do tell me! Is it anything bad?” eagerly inquired Elfie.
“Yes, very,” replied Alberta, with a shudder.
“And to think you should have known the secret ever since last Easter and kept it from us!” exclaimed Elfie, with a reproachful look.
“You see I kept it to myself for her sake,” explained Alberta, with an apologetic smile.
“Keep it so still, Alberta,” earnestly urged Erminie. “If you have become possessed of any secret that you think Britomarte would not like to have divulged, it would be disloyalty to your friend to divulge it.”
“Bosh! It is all among friends, so what’s the harm? Go on, Alberta. I am on thorns until I hear all about it. Was it a murder, or a forgery, or a bigamy, or an elopement, or an—or what was it?” eagerly questioned Elfie.