"Apples will be best!" said Mary. "I have some pound sweets all picked out. We meant this for a surprise, you know, Tom, but never mind! It's really better fun for us all to know."
"Lots!" said Tom. "I forgot, though, about the surprise part. And then—it'll be full moon—we'll go out Jack-o'-lanterning, and that'll be no end; and then Mammy says we can roast chestnuts, and Father has the bonfire all ready, and we'll have a celebration. A Quicksilver Celebration, eh, Sue?"
"Oh, Tom!" said Sue. "Not Quicksilver any more; just stupid, stupid, grubby lead—and rusty, too!"
"Lead doesn't rust," said Teddy, gravely.
"This lead does! And—I've got something to read to you all. It is part of my penance, Mary. Yes, I will! It isn't all true, but part of it is."
She drew a letter from her pocket (it was written on pink paper, scented with cheap scent), and began to read:
"Miss Clarice Stephanotis Packard presents her compliments to Miss Susan Penrose, and tells her that I am going home to-morrow with my Papa, and I never shall come to this mean place any more. It is all my fault for assoshating with my soshal inpheriars, and if you hadn't have poked your nose into my afairs, Miss Penrose, and put your old candy in my pew, I shoud not have been robbed and most murderd. The girl here says I could have the law of you to get back the money my mouse ring cost,—"
"What girl?" asked Mary.
Sue blushed hotly.
"The—the chambermaid," she said. "She—Clarice has made a kind of companion of her. She isn't a very nice girl, I'm afraid."