"How hateful!" exclaimed Joan, with a sympathy that warmed her sister's heart. "But do hurry up and read them. I am dying to hear what you have written."
Millicent opened the book and turned over the pages. She could not quite decide which she should choose as her first selection. Before she had made it, however, there was a tap at the door, and then, without waiting for a reply, a tall girl of sixteen came into the room.
Again the morocco-bound book went under the sofa pillow, and Joanna could not suppress an exclamation of disappointment.
"What's the matter? What's up?" said their cousin Peggy, glancing quickly from one to the other. "Secrets? Now that's not a bit fair, to have secrets from me. I've got oceans of things to talk about; but, first of all, I met the postman just as I was coming in, and he gave me this for you, Mill. This huge envelope, and addressed in your own handwriting. It's awfully mysterious, and I am just about wild with curiosity. You must tell me what it is."
A blank look came over Millicent's face, but she took the letter and said nothing.
"Oh, come, now, aren't you going to tell us?" continued Peggy. "I'll never tell."
"Do, Millicent!" urged Joanna. "If it's—if it has anything to do with what we were talking about when Peggy came in, you may as well tell. I want Peggy to know about it, and I'm sure she would like to hear them too."
"Hear them? What in the world is it? Oh, I know! I know!" cried Peggy: "you have been writing and sending things to the magazines! Oh, Milly, do show me!"
Millicent looked at her long and doubtfully. "Will you never, never tell?" she asked at last.
"Never, on my oath!"