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The Golden Road

XXIV. A Tantalizing Revelation
"I shall have something to tell you in the orchard this evening," said the Story Girl
at breakfast one morning. Her eyes were very bright and excited. She looked as
if she had not slept a great deal. She had spent the previous evening with Miss
Reade and had not returned until the rest of us were in bed. Miss Reade had
finished giving music lessons and was going home in a few days. Cecily and
Felicity were in despair over this and mourned as those without comfort. But the
Story Girl, who had been even more devoted to Miss Reade than either of them,
had not, as I noticed, expressed any regret and seemed to be very cheerful over
the whole matter.
"Why can't you tell it now?" asked Felicity.
"Because the evening is the nicest time to tell things in. I only mentioned it now
so that you would have something interesting to look forward to all day."
"Is it about Miss Reade?" asked Cecily.
"Never mind."
"I'll bet she's going to be married," I exclaimed, remembering the ring.
"Is she?" cried Felicity and Cecily together.
The Story Girl threw an annoyed glance at me. She did not like to have her
dramatic announcements forestalled.
"I don't say that it is about Miss Reade or that it isn't. You must just wait till the
evening."
"I wonder what it is," speculated Cecily, as the Story Girl left the room.
"I don't believe it's much of anything," said Felicity, beginning to clear away the
breakfast dishes. "The Story Girl always likes to make so much out of so little.
Anyhow, I don't believe Miss Reade is going to be married. She hasn't any beaus
around here and Mrs. Armstrong says she's sure she doesn't correspond with
anybody. Besides, if she was she wouldn't be likely to tell the Story Girl."
"Oh, she might. They're such friends, you know," said Cecily.
"Miss Reade is no better friends with her than she is with me and you," retorted
Felicity.
"No, but sometimes it seems to me that she's a different kind of friend with the
Story Girl than she is with me and you," reflected Cecily. "I can't just explain what
I mean."
"No wonder. Such nonsense," sniffed Felicity. "It's only some girl's secret,
anyway," said Dan, loftily. "I don't feel much interest in it."
But he was on hand with the rest of us that evening, interest or no interest, in
Uncle Stephen's Walk, where the ripening apples were beginning to glow like
jewels among the boughs.
 
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