“Nothing—nothing, Nora. Come, our race isn't over yet. I'm off again; you cannot catch me this time.”
Molly ran, panting as she did so.
“I cannot tell her; I won't,” she said to herself. “I wish her eyes were not so sharp. She is sure to find out; but I have begged and prayed of mother not to tell her, at least until after Stephanotie and the others have gone. Then, I suppose, she must know.”
Molly reached the top of the hill. She was so blown that she had to fling herself on the grass. Nora again reached her side.
“Tell me, Molly,” she said; “there is something the matter?”
“There is a telegram for mother, and I cannot tell you anything whatever about it,” said Molly in a cross voice. “There, I'm off once more. I promised Linda that I would help her to look after the Armitage girls. Prim and proper as they are, they are sometimes a little bit too much for my dainty sister Linda. You take care of Stephie; she's right good fun. Let me go, Nora; let me go.”
Molly pulled her hand almost roughly out of her cousin's grip, and the next moment was rushing downhill as fast as she could in the direction of the summer-house. There she knew she would find Linda and her two friends.