Leslie shook her head, “No; leave that part to me. I have my own reasons for asking you to do so. Perhaps, some day, I may ask you to make me a promise on that very account.”
“I’ll promise now to do whatever you may ask me to do in the time to come.” There was evident gratitude in the earnestly-spoken reply.
Leslie eyed the little girl with new interest. There seemed to be more to Jewel Marie that might be likable than had at first appeared on the surface. “Thank you,” she said simply.
“There’s something I’d like to tell you. I’d not care to have anyone else on the campus know it, though. It’s about myself—a secret. No one at Warburton ever found it out—I mean—” came a pause. The freshman’s black eyes were again focussed upon Leslie with solemn intensity.
Leila’s jesting Celtic protest, “Tell me nothing,” hovered behind Leslie’s lips. She did not utter it, instead waited in silence for her visitor to continue at will.
“I believe I can trust you with my secret,” the girl went on hurriedly. “It seems necessary for me to tell you. You see, you don’t understand me, at all. I tried to put on airs at the station today, because—I’m not like that, really I—” Again she came to an uncertain pause. “Would you mind if I told you about myself?” She was watching Leslie rather timidly, divining the latter’s unflattering lack of curiosity regarding her affairs.
“No.” Leslie’s “No” was kindly.
“But you are not very keen about it, are you?” persisted the freshman.
“Forget it,” was the succinct advice. “Go ahead with your story.”
“Well,” the little girl drew a long breath, “it’s like this. Until I went to Warburton prep last year, I’d always lived a different life from other girls. At the station I spoke of Warburton as though I’d started there as a freshman. I hadn’t. I’d never been in any other school. I’d always had a governess. I—I’m a child of the circus.”