“I oughtn’t to have said anything, even that I possessed it, and you must promise that you won’t mention it. I had no right to let it out—no right at all; my—my friend would be so dreadfully angry—you will promise you won’t tell?”
“Of course I won’t tell.”
Pauline spoke in an offended, off-hand manner. She was not at all taken with Fanchon.
“Come,” she said, “I won’t tell about your bangle, and you will ask your sisters not to mention mine. Now we must join the others. They’re going to have a game I know, under the trees.”
Fanchon followed her companion. She felt a queer sense of excitement, but not the most remote suspicion of the real truth entered her mind.
Meanwhile Honora, who wished to do everything in her power to make her visitors happy, arranged that Brenda and Penelope should be left quite undisturbed together. Penelope was not too happy at this idea, but as she could not possibly make any excuse for avoiding her dear Brenda, she was obliged to submit to it.
“Why are we to be left all alone?” said Brenda, whose restless eyes had roved over the entire company, and had evidently thought Penelope the person least worth conversing with.
“It is Honora,” replied Penelope at once. “She thinks that, as we are sisters, we ought to be glad to have a little time together all by ourselves. After lunch at one—we can join the others if you wish it.”
“Of course I wish it,” said Brenda. “I have nothing special to say to you, Penelope; have you anything special to say to me?”
“No, nothing at all,” said Penelope, a lump coming into her throat.