"I do not believe it is any thing worth hearing," remarks the Brat, skeptically, "or you would have come out with it long ago! you never could have kept in to yourself!"
"Not worth hearing!" cry I, triumphantly raising my voice, "is not it? That is all you know about it!"
"Do not wrangle, children," says Algy from the window; "but, Nancy, if you have not told us before the clock gets to the quarter" (looking impressively at the slowly-traveling hands), "I shall think it right to—"
What awful threats would have followed will never now be certainly known, for I interrupt.
"I will tell you! I mean to tell you!" I cry, excitedly, covering my face with my hands, and turning my back to them all; "only do not look at me! look the other way, or I cannot tell you."
A little pause.
"You have only three minutes, Nancy."
"Will you promise," cry I, with indistinct emphasis from under my hands, "none of you to laugh—none, even Bobby!"
"Yes!"—"Yes!"—"Yes!"
"Will you swear?"