“Oh, she said it was a piece of wood, and that she had dropped it into the tree.”
Fanny sat very still. A coldness came over her. She was nearly stunned with what she considered the horror of Betty’s conduct.
“What is the matter?” asked Sibyl.
“Nothing at all, Sib; nothing at all. And then, what happened?”
“Betty was very cross at being disturbed.”
“That is quite probable,” said Fanny with a laugh.
“She certainly was, and I—I—I am afraid I annoyed her; but after a minute or two she got up and allowed me to walk with her. We walked towards the house, and she told me all kinds of funny stories; she really made me scream with laughter. She is the jolliest girl! Then, all of a sudden, we came in sight of the flower-gardens; and she asked me what I was going to wear last night, and I told her about the green chiffon dress which auntie had sent me; and then she suggested a wreath of small marguerites, and told me to get Birchall to cut some for me. She said they would be very becoming, and of course I believed her. There’s nothing in my story, is there, Fanny?”
“That depends on the point of view,” answered Fanny.
“I don’t understand you.”
“Nor do I mean you to, kiddy.”