Katy began to be curious. She went in pursuit of Clover, who was
practising in one of the recitation-rooms, and the three girls ran
together down Quaker Row.
"Now," said Rose, locking the door, and pushing forward a chair for
Katy and another for Clover, "swear that you won't tell, for this is
a real secret,--the greatest secret that ever was, and Mrs. Florence
would flay me alive if she knew that I knew!" She paused to enjoy
the effect of her words, and suddenly began to snuff the air in a
peculiar manner.
"Girls," she said, solemnly, "that little wretch of a Bella is in this
room. I am sure of it."
"What makes you think so?" cried the others supervised.
"I smell that dreadful pomatum that she puts on her hair! Don't you
notice it? She's hidden somewhere." Rose looked sharply about for
a minute, then made a pounce, and from under the bed dragged a small
kicking heap. It was the guilty Bella.
"What were you doing there, you bad child?" demanded Rose, seizing the
kicking feet and holding them fast.
"I don't care," blubbered Bella, "you wouldn't tell me your secret.
You're a real horrid girl, Rose Red. I don't love you a bit."
"Your affection is not a thing which I particularly pine for," retorted
Rose, seating herself, and holding the culprit before her by the ends
of her short pig-tails. "I don't want little girls who peep and hide
to love me. I'd rather they wouldn't. Now listen. Do you know what
I shall do if you ever come again into my room without leave. First,
I shall cut off your hair, pomatum and all, with my penknife,"--Bella
screamed,--"and then I'll turn myself into a bear--a great brown bear
--and eat you up." Rose pronounced this threat with tremendous energy,
and accompanied it with a snarl which showed all her teeth. Bella
roared with fright, twitched away her pig-tails, unlocked the door and
fled, Rose not pursuing, but sitting comfortably in her chair and
growling at intervals, till her victim was out of hearing. Then she
rose and bolted the door again.
"How lucky that the imp is so fond of that smelly pomatum!" she
remarked: "one always knows where to look for her. It's as good as
a bell round her neck! Now, for the secret. You promise not to tell?
Well, then, Mrs. Florence is going away week after next, and, what's
more,--she's going to be married!"
"Not really!" cried the others.
"Really and truly. She's going to be married to a clergyman."
"How did you find out?"
"Why, it's the most curious thing. You know my blue lawn, which Miss
James is making. This morning I went to try it on, Miss Barnes with
me of course, and while Miss James was fitting the waist Mrs. Seccomb
came in and sat down on the sofa by Miss Barnes. They began to talk,
and pretty soon Mrs. Seccomb said, 'What day does Mrs. Florence go?"
"'Thursday week,' said Miss Barnes. She sort of mumbled it, and
looked to see if I were listening. I wasn't; but of course after
that I did,--as hard as I could.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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