“Dear Brenda, indeed!” cried Nina, in a scornful tone.
“Yes, you do make a fuss about her at times,” said Josephine. “But she is gone for a day—and a good thing, too. You know how cross you are often with her dictatorial ways and the silly manner in which she manages to take in poor papa.”
“I know something that you don’t know,” said Fanchon, resigning herself as passively as she could to a humble seat at the side of the breakfast table.
“What do you know, Fanchon? Oh, do tell us!” cried Nina.
“Well—I saw the dress last night!”
“What—the dress that Brenda went away in?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t see it—she positively refused to let any of us look at it—and I thought it so beastly churlish of her!” said Nina.
“Well, she showed it to me,” said Fanchon carelessly, helping herself to a piece of bread and jam as she spoke, “and it was—oh, I tell you, girls, it was just ripping! I never saw such a beautiful creature as Brenda looked in it. I will describe it to you presently, outside in the garden, but not now. When I have a bit of fun, and a secret to tell, I like to make as much of it as possible. I suppose we’ll have a good time ourselves some day, although not at present.”
“I have something to talk about too in the garden,” said Nina; “but first I want to have a little chat with papa.”