Elinor said nothing at all. It was impossible for her to explain her feelings just then even to herself. She was hurt with Billie for no good reason, and she was angry and ashamed of herself for permitting this ugly little bitterness to enter her mind.
“Do tell us, Billie,” pleaded Nancy, whose curiosity when with her three intimate friends was insatiable.
“But it isn’t mine to tell,” answered Billie desperately.
“Ha! She admits she has a secret,” cried Nancy dramatically.
“The only way for you to learn this secret,” said Billie, cornered at last by her own confession, “is to find it out for yourselves. I can’t tell because I promised not to. For some reason, which I don’t know any more than you do, it’s very important for the secret to remain a secret, and everything depends on its being kept a secret. That’s all I can tell you, because, except for the actual thing itself, that’s all I know.”
“Heavens, how mysterious!” cried Nancy. “I feel I shall burst in a minute if I don’t find out.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to burst then, you inquisitive child,” laughed Billie, giving her a friendly shake.
It was really something of a relief to talk about it, even in this vague and unsatisfactory manner.
Edward was nowhere to be seen at the boat landing.
“Perhaps he’s in the Firefly,” suggested Mary.