Tom smiled. “I can offer you a bite of attractive bait. Will you apologise for calling me ‘exactly like Winnie’ if I tell you a profound secret?”
“That depends! What do you call ‘profound,’ and will I be concerned in hearing it?” teased Polly.
Eleanor had never known Polly to behave so coquettishly before, and to her astonishment, she beheld her little model of virtue flirt distractingly with Tom. Or Eleanor thought Polly was flirting, when she sent a dazzling look at him from her wonderful eyes.
“It is the secret about the Valentine Roses. At last I have managed to learn who really sent them to you.”
Eleanor perked up. Here was a delightful situation. Polly had never been able to find out who had sent the roses, and Tom was ready to confess.
“Oh, really!” exclaimed Polly, eagerly inquisitive.
Tom laughed. “Are you concerned? Is it a profound secret?”
“Yes, oh, yes, Tom!” cried Eleanor, excitedly. “Do tell us what you know.”
“But Polly has to show her interest, too. If she says she is sorry for likening me to Winfield, I will tell her who sent the roses.”
“Is he nice, Tom?” asked Polly, anxiously.