“And Nicky,” Cara reminded her companion. “You know, Babbsy, you must show Nicky’s candlesticks.”
“No, I don’t think I will,” Babs surprised her friend by saying. “Women aren’t like us. They would demand to know who made them, and that would, or might,” she corrected herself, “bring trouble to Nicky.”
“Oh, Babs!” exclaimed Cara, in real surprise. “You don’t mean to say you wouldn’t. Not show those darling little candlesticks,” she repeated. “Why, they would be sure to win a prize,” Cara faltered in disappointment.
“I know they are lovely and I don’t suppose any handicraft work there will be better done,” Babs replied. “But somehow, Cara, I know those poor folks are trying to hide some trouble. And I’d be a queer friend if I drew attention to it.”
“Attention—to what?”
“To the Unknown.”
“Unknown?”
“Yes. We know perfectly well that whoever makes those candlesticks is hiding—is unknown,” Barbara admitted. “I’d love to know all about them but it really isn’t my business, is it?” she said rather than asked.
“Do you really believe, Babs, that a mysterious person is being hidden by—by Nicky’s mother?” Cara almost gasped.
“Yes, I do,” replied Babs decidedly.