“Oh!” Tillie exclaimed with a sudden start. “Are there really lady spies?”
“To be sure,” was the quiet reply.
“Goody!” Tillie clapped her hands. “I’m going to be a lady spy!”
“Yes sir!” Peggy broke in with her high, piping voice. “We’ll both be spies. You be Louise, and I’ll be Charlotte!”
“Wait and see!” the story teller warned. “Let me tell you the story. Then you may not want to be a spy at all!”
“Oh, yes we will!” Tillie insisted. “Aunt Alice (they called her aunt) do we have a spy right here on our farm?” The child’s voice was low, mysterious.
“Hush!” Alice warned. “Don’t dare to breathe a word about that.”
“Tillie!” The younger child’s voice rose sharply, “Let her tell the story!”
And so, while the children lay back among the cushions, Alice told the story of Louise and Charlotte.
“They had lived in France.” Her voice was low and mellow. “Then had come the terrible German soldiers. Louise fled before them. Charlotte hid in a cellar.