“Don’t mention it, Nancy,” begged Rosa. “If I weren’t going to school I wouldn’t let you go. This way, Orilla. We’re going in the front door this time.”
“Please don’t, I would so much rather not,” murmured Orilla. “I love the way I’ve always gone in—and—I’m sort of nervous, you know.”
“Orilla’s right, Rosa,” Dell replied. “It’s much better just to get her quietly into bed. Don’t make the least fuss—” she cautioned aside to the two eager girls.
“Thanks,” sighed Orilla. “You see, I can’t help feeling a little guilty, Rosa. I did fool you an awful lot.” There was the flash of a smile with this admission.
“Not such an awful lot, either,” Rosa defended herself, “for all the exercise was surely good for me. See how frail and fairy-like I am!” and she attempted a little demonstration.
“Just open that door, will you?” Nancy ordered. “We’ll admire you some other time, dear.”
Dell had hurried inside to bring the news quietly to Margot, and to tell her of Orilla’s weakened condition. Promptly and in her own capable way, Margot slipped into the hidden room, quite as if its blinds had not been closed for so long, or as if the mustiness she had fought for two days to conquer, were merely a new brand of natural perfume.
It took but a few minutes to install Orilla in her bed, which had been made fresh and comfortable, and upon Margot’s orders Rosa and Dell then withdrew.
They were really going for Dr. Easton, although they did not let Orilla know that. But Nancy stayed near the sick girl, who seemed still anxious to talk of her secrets.
“The money, you know, Nancy,” she said, when Margot had left for some fresh water. “I had saved that to buy the little lot next here.”