“Tell us exactly who sent you each bunch?” demanded Jessie, passing a box of ginger-snaps, while Judy performed miracles with a tea ball, a small kettle and a varied assortment of cups and saucers. “I have a right to ask you,” continued Jessica, “because you asked the same question of me last Tuesday when two boxes came.”
“No suitor sent me any of these, Mistress Jessica,” answered Molly, “because I haven’t any. Miss Stewart sent the pink ones, and the President of the senior class sent the red ones. Judy brought me the double violets and Nance the lilies of the valley, bless them both, and another senior the pot of pansies. The seniors have certainly been sweet and lovely.”
“There’s one you haven’t accounted for,” interrupted Jessie.
“The violets?” asked Molly, blushing slightly.
“Oh, ho!” cried Jessie in her high, musical voice, “trying to crawl, were you? You can’t deceive old Grandmamma Sharp-eyes. Honor bright, who sent the violets?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I suspected Frances Andrews, but when I thanked her for them, she looked horribly embarrassed and said she hadn’t sent them. I was afraid she would go down and get some after my break, but thank goodness, she had the good taste not to.”
“You mean to say they were anonymous?” demanded Jessie.
“I mean to say that thing, but I suppose some of the seniors who preferred to remain unknown sent them.”
“It’s just possible,” put in Mary, and the subject was dropped.
“Let’s talk about the only thing worth talking about just now,” broke in Judy. “The Flopping of Flora; or, Who Cut the Wires?”