Kate shook her head indulgently.
“I don’t tell you everything,” she said with mock severity. “You’re too imaginative, too young—too altogether irresponsible. Besides, you might have nightmare. Anyway most folk know it in the village.”
“Oh, Kate!”
“Say, tell us, Miss Seton,” cried Bill, his big eyes alight with interest. “If there’s one thing I’m crazy on it is legends. I just love ’em to death.”
“I don’t think I ought to tell it in front of Helen,” Kate said mischievously. “She’s——”
Helen sprang from her seat and stood threateningly before her sister.
“Kate Seton,” she cried, “I demand your story.” Then she went on melodramatically, “You’ve said too much or too little. You’ve got to tell it right here and now, or—or I’ll never speak to you again—never,” she finished up feebly.
Kate smiled.
“What a dreadful threat!” Then she turned to Bill. “Mr. Bryant, I s’pose I’ll have to tell her. You don’t know what an awful tempered woman it is. I really believe it would actually carry out its threat for—five minutes.”
Bill’s good-natured guffaw came readily.