“No doubt,” said Aneta gently; “only, he is not related to our special friends. You might let Merry and Cicely know.”
“Why?” asked Maggie in a dogged voice.
“You can please yourself. I shall tell them if you don’t.”
“Why do you hate me so much, Aneta?” said Maggie then.
“I hate subterfuge and untruth,” said Aneta. “I don’t hate you. If you would be straight and open and above-board you would find me your best friend.”
“Thank you so much!” said Maggie in a sneering tone. “When I require you for my best friend it will be time enough for you to offer me that enviable position.” Then she added, speaking in a low tone of intense dislike, “Is it likely that any girl would wish to make a best friend of another girl who accused her of subterfuge and want of truthfulness?”
The delicate pink rose in Aneta’s cheeks. She raised her eyes and looked full up at Maggie. Her clear, calm eyes seemed like mirrors. Maggie felt that she could not meet them.
It was just at that moment that Cicely Cardew, in a state of suppressed excitement, came into the room.
“Maggie,” she said, coming straight up to Maggie Howland, “there’s a very large parcel addressed to you in the hall. It has been paid for; we are all dying with curiosity to know what it is.”
Maggie rose abruptly.