“Oh, but, Betty,” said Hetty, “you will promise not to! It’s awful when you do! You will promise, won’t you?”
“I will try my best,” said Betty.
“How long do you think, Betty, that you and Hetty and I will be able to endure that awful school?” said Sylvia.
“It all depends,” said Betty. “But we’ve got the money to get away with when we like. It was left for our use. Now, look, here, girls. I am going to tell you a tremendous secret.”
“Oh, yes! oh, yes!” exclaimed the other two. “Betty, you’re a perfect darling; you are the most heroic creature in the world!”
“Listen; and don’t talk, girls. I told a lie to-night about that packet; but no one else will know about it. There was one day—now don’t interrupt me, either of you, or I’ll begin howling, and then I can’t stop—there was one day when Auntie Frances was very ill. She sent for me, and I went to her; and she said, ‘I am able to leave you so very little, my children; but there is a nest-egg in a little packet in the right-hand drawer of my bureau. You must always keep it—always until you really want it.’ I felt so bursting all round my heart, and so choky in my throat, that I thought I’d scream there and then; but I kept all my feelings in, and went away, and pretended to dearest auntie that I didn’t feel it a bit. Then, you know, she, she—died.”
“She was very cold,” said Sylvia. “I saw her—I seem to see her still. Her face made me shiver.”
“Don’t!” said Betty in a fierce voice. “Do you want me to howl all night long?”
“I won’t! I won’t!” said Sylvia. “Go on, Betty darling—heroine that you are!”