“It can be acted on, whether it is believed or not,” remarked Brenda.
Fanchon was silent. Brenda watched her narrowly. “I have something to say to you,” she remarked, all of a sudden. “Of course you won’t speak to your papa and get me dismissed, and lose all your own fun—no three girls would be so mad. But I have something more to say. I want you, Fanchon, to be my friend.”
“Oh—I!” said Fanchon—“but mice are never friendly with cats, are they?”
“You mustn’t think of me as a cat, dear, nor of yourself as a mouse. The simile is very painful, and you know how I have talked to you about the pleasant time I trust to have at Marshlands; and you shall help me, and look very, very smart when you come out with me in the evenings. Do you remember my telling you that if you are my friend, I might get you a little bangle to wear?”
“Oh, yes—but I am certain it would be a horrid gilt thing not worth anything.”
“Fanchon—you are unkind! I told you in the utmost confidence that I had been left a tiny legacy—a little, little sum of money, very precious to poor me, but very small. Well, I did not forget my pupil, and I have bought her a bangle.”
“Oh, Brenda, have you?”
“Yes, dear; and it is made of the best gold for the purpose—eighteen carat gold! You must on no account tell the others a single word about it; but I will give it you sometimes to wear when you and I go out by ourselves in the evenings. It shall shine on your little wrist then, Fanchon, and—how sweet you will look in it!”
“Oh—but may I see it?” said Fanchon, her lips trembling as she spoke.
“Not until you most faithfully promise that you will not say a word about it to the other girls. There are, occasionally, times when I may even want to wear it myself. But it will belong to you—it will be your property, and when we come back from the sea, I will present it to you absolutely. Make me a faithful promise that you will say nothing about the bangle, and you shall constantly wear it when the others are not looking on—and—when we return, it shall be yours!”