Flyaway looked frightened.
"What'd I do?" cried she; "I didn't tell nuffin 'bout the letter!"
This last speech set everybody to laughing; and the little tell-tale looked around from one to another with a face full of innocent wonder. They couldn't be laughing at her!
"I can keep secrids," said she, with dignity. "It was what I was a-doin'."
"It is your brother Horace who cannot be trusted to keep secrets," said Mrs. Clifford, taking a letter from her pocket. "Hear, now, what your Aunt Madge has written: 'Will you lend me your children for the holidays, Maria? I want all three; at any rate, two.'"
"That's me," cried Flyaway, tipping over her white coffee; "'tenny rate two,' means me."
"Don't interrupt me, dear. 'Brother Edward has promised me Prudy and Dotty Dimple. They may have a Santa Claus, or whatever they like. I shall devote myself to making them happy, and I am sure there are plenty of things in New York to amuse them. Horace must come without fail; for the little girl-cousins always depend so much upon him.'"
A smile rose to Horace's mouth; but he rubbed it off with his napkin. It was his boast that he was above being flattered.
"But why not have Grace go, too, to keep them steady?" said Mr. Clifford, bluntly.
Horace applied himself to his buckwheat cakes in silence, and looked rather gloomy.