They had gone on a little way, and Susan was about to hail a passing omnibus, when Judy suddenly put her hand on the servant's arm.
"Susan," she said, "I am going to tell you the secret now. You'll be sure to keep it?"
"Well, of course, miss, I'll do my best—I hope I aint one of the blabbing sort."
"I don't think you are, Susan—you look as if a person could trust you. I'm going to trust you with a most important thing."
"Very well, miss—I'll be proud I'm sure; but hadn't we better stop that 'bus—there's the conductor looking at us."
"Does that 'bus go in the direction of Waterloo Station?" asked Judy.
"Waterloo—bless you, Miss Judy—I don't know whether it do or not. I don't s'pose so for a quarter of a minute. Waterloo is miles from here—that I do know. But it's nothing to us where Waterloo is, miss, it's to Kensington Gardens we're going, and the 'bus has gone on now, so there's no good our worrying ourselves about it. Another will pass us in a minute. There are plenty half empty at this hour of the day."
"I wish you would stop talking, Susan, and let me explain what I mean," said Judy, almost fretfully. "It's to Waterloo I want to go, not to Kensington Gardens. Do you hear me—do you understand what I'm saying?"
"I suppose you're joking me, Miss Judy. My missis said we were to go to Kensington Gardens."
"Please, Susan, stop for a minute. I want to say something very important. I am going home. That's the secret. I am going home to Aunt Marjorie and to father, and my little sister Babs, and the way home is by Waterloo, so I must get there. Now do you understand? That's the secret—I am going home to-day."