As they passed under the great oak-trees Betty looked up, and her eyes danced with fun. “Are you good at climbing trees?” she asked of Margaret.
“I used to be when I was very, very young; but those days are over.”
“There are a few very little girls in the lower school who still climb one of the safest trees,” remarked Olive.
Betty’s eyes continued to dance. “You give me delightful news,” she said. “I am so truly glad none of you do anything so vulgar as to climb trees.”
“But why, Betty?” asked Margaret.
“I have my own reasons,” replied Betty. “You can’t expect me to tell you everything right away, can you?”
“You must please yourself,” said Margaret.
Olive looked at Betty in a puzzled manner; and the three girls were silent, only that they quickened their steps, crunching down some broken twigs as they walked.
By-and-by they reached the three bare patches of ground, which were railed in in the simple manner which Mrs. Haddo had indicated, and in the center of which stood the wooden post with the words, “The Vivians’ Private Gardens,” painted on it.
“How very funny!” exclaimed Olive.