"And is that all?" said Molly, springing from her sofa and beginning to pace the room. "Oh, how mean, how mean you are! You drew me out on purpose. I only spoke in a general way. Oh, Matilda, how could you be so frightfully underhand?"
"That was not the way you got your information," said Cecil, in her calm, clear voice. "What about the little hole at the back of the summerhouse, which I proved by measurement to be exactly on a level with your ear?"
Matilda colored crimson.
"You must tell everything," continued Cecil, "or I shall take this story straight to Miss Forester."
"If I must, I must; after all, why should I care what girls like you think about me? I——" She paused.
"Go on," said Cecil; "we're both listening."
"There is not much in it, after all. What an awful fuss you do make! I was at the back of the summerhouse, tying up my shoe. I heard Kate and Molly talking; the hole in the wood was quite handy. I did listen for a bit, I heard something."
"And you questioned Molly on purpose," said Cecil; "in order to give color to the horrid story which you meant to tell."
"The fact is, I hated you, Molly Lavender, from the first," said Matilda. "You snubbed me and were disagreeable; I thought I'd have my revenge, that's all. I suppose I may go now?"
"Not a bit of it," said Cecil. "Before you leave this room, you have got to write down every word you have just told me. Here is paper; here are pens and ink; seat yourself; write away."