"Oh, Susie," said Sadie, after a moment's pause, "how good you are to propose such a thing, and how Florence will love you for it!"
"No, no," protested Susie. "Sadie, of all things, Florence must never know, never even suspect; that would spoil it all."
"I'm so bewildered!" said Sadie. "What can we do in the few minutes left? As you say, how delighted Florence will be! but I never could have given it up, Susie—never!"
"Oh, yes you could, if you knew how great the joy was that followed," said Susie, simply. "I wonder now that I hesitated a moment."
They both went among the different groups of girls, and there was more whispering than ever, and numberless expressions of wonder, always silenced by, "Hush! Florence will hear, and she must never know." The ringing of the bell put an end to all stifled exclamations, and the scholars were soon in their seats.
Sadie asked permission to speak. Mr. Gorham smiled, knowing she had been talking every moment for the past half-hour, nevertheless he granted it.
She leaned over and whispered to Susie, "Ten or twelve girls went out to walk at recess, and haven't heard the new plan."
"Never mind," returned Susie. "It will seem all the more natural to have a divided vote."
The usual Friday visitors now began to come in to listen to the readings and recitations that always took place on the last school afternoon of the week, and among them was one who had never before presented himself—Squire Tracy.
"All the better," whispered Sadie, forgetting in her excitement that her permission to speak had long since expired. And Susie signaled a "yes" in reply.