"Are you ill today, Edith?" asked Star.
"Oh, no, Star; I am feeling very well today," replied Edith.
"But you are so quiet and unresponsive that I can't quite make you out," said Star.
Then leading Star to the window where she sat with her father the day before, Edith asked her to sit down that she might have a word with her.
"Star," she said, seriously, relenting in her purpose to keep her secret longer, "what you told me two nights ago I have discovered to be too true—at least in a circumstantial way," said Edith.
"Why, then, haven't you told me, Edith, so that I could have a fellow-feeling for you?" asked Star.
"Papa requested me to keep it a secret till he returns; which I should do. But, deary, you know I am like you, it is hard to keep a secret," said Edith, still uncertain whether to proceed farther.
"Now, my dear Edith! I never tell anybody any secrets but you, and you tell them to nobody else, and you never tell any to me, so that is as far as yours ever get."
"Star. I must refreshen your memory a little," said Edith, playfully. "I am not scolding you, you know; but just reminding you a little. Now, didn't you tell Mr. Winthrope something?"
"Well, wasn't he entitled to it?" said Star, laughing.