“Oh, I am all right,” said Nancy.
“Isn’t it a good thing,” said Nora, “that Augusta has not been so much with the Asprays? She might have got into most awful danger; but, as it is, all is safe.”
Nancy was silent, and Kitty gave her a very earnest glance.
“You know something, and you are not going to tell us,” she said abruptly.
“I wish you would not question me. I have a headache,” pleaded Nancy.
“Well, no, we won’t. Gussie could not have been so awfully, awfully wicked as to disobey Uncle Peter. We do know that she might be guilty of tiny sins, but a great monstrous one like that—oh, it is impossible! Now, Nan, get into bed and get your headache well. Oh, what a pity you were not downstairs to-night! We were discussing all about prize-day. Uncle Peter has arranged that it comes off on Thursday week—that is, in about ten days from now. Oh, it will be a day and a half, I can tell you!”
CHAPTER XXXI.—UNCLE PETER’S CONSIDERING CAP.
Certainly prize-day was to lose no outward manifestation of its great importance. A telegram had arrived from Mrs. Richmond announcing her safe arrival at the Cape. But when she would be back again was quite uncertain.
The girls, however, determined to have a right good time in her absence; and in this they were aided and abetted by the Captain, who, for all his moral qualities, enjoyed a lark with the best.
So far as the special prizes went, they were to be bestowed upon the successful candidates in private. “For our battalion is more or less a secret one,” said the Captain. “We fight, you know, against invisible foes, against the powers of the air, so to speak, and we don’t want visible people—acquaintances, and so on—to behold us either in our defeat or victory. I propose that the prizes should wind up the day, when all the guests have gone, and the dance is over, and the fun is at an end. Then will come the crowning event, after which all must necessarily be bathos.”