CHAPTER VIII
A SECRET
Dolly was very quiet after she reached home. She was greatly puzzledat the events of the afternoon.
“Of course,” she thought, “Pinkie _couldn’t_ be a fairy. She is just asmuch a live little girl as I am. And yet, why should any nice littlegirl,—and she surely is a very nice little girl,—want our acquaintancekept secret?”
Dolly remembered a little girl in Chicago, who loved to have “secrets,”but they were very simple affairs, usually a new slate pencil, or acoming birthday party. She had never heard of such a foolish secret asnot telling your name!
And so, the thought _would_ come back; what if Pinkie should be a realfairy? To be sure, she had always thought fairies were tiny folk, butshe had never seen one, so how could she know?
And Pinkie was so well versed in making a fairies’ dancing ground, andshe appeared so mysteriously,—apparently from nowhere at all! Oh, if itshould be! And then, that would explain the secret part of it,—forfairies always want to be kept secret. But on the other hand, that pinkkilted dress of starched linen! Fairies always wore gauzy robes, andcarried wands, and had wings. Well, yes, that was the popular notion,but who had seen them, to know for sure?
These thoughts chased through Dolly’s mind as she sat at the suppertable, and Aunt Rachel soon noticed the child’s absorption.
“What’s the matter, dearie?” she asked; “aren’t you well?”
“Oh, yes, Auntie; I—I was just thinking.”
“I know what’s the matter with Dollums,” said Dick, a littleshamefacedly. “It’s ’cause Jack Fuller and I played leap-frog and thingsshe didn’t like, and so she went off by herself, and was lonesome. I’msorry, Dolly.”
“Why, Dick Dana!” exclaimed his twin; “it wasn’t that a bit! I’m gladyou had fun with Jack, and I didn’t care a spick-speck! I had a lovelytime myself.”
“Where were you, dear?” asked Aunt Abbie.
“In the wood, with my two big dolls,” said Dolly, truthfully, but shehad a strange feeling of dishonesty.
She had never had a secret before; had never told anything except the_whole_ truth; and the _part_ truth, as she had told it now, troubledher conscience.
Yet she had promised Pinkie not to tell about her, so whether Pinkie wasfairy or little girl, Dolly felt herself bound by her promise.
“Auntie,” she said, after a pause, “are there really fairies?”
“No, child, of course not. You know there aren’t.”
“Yes, I s’pose so. But if there were any, how big would they be?”
“Don’t ask silly questions, Dolly. There are no such beings as fairies.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Aunt Rachel,” put in Dick. “You know, just becausewe’ve never seen any,—that doesn’t prove there aren’t any.”
“But how big would they be, Dick?” persisted Dolly.
“Oh, little bits of things. A dozen of them could dance on a toad-stool,I expect.”
That settled it in Dolly’s mind. Of course Pinkie wasn’t a fairy then,for what Dick said was always so.
But Aunt Abbie changed the situation. She had more imagination than AuntRachel, and she idly fell into the discussion.
“I’m not sure of that, Dick,” she said. “I always imagine fairies to beabout our own size. You know Cinderella’s fairy godmother was a grown-uplady.”
“Oh,” said Dolly, her eyes shining with interest. “Then do you think,Aunt Abbie, that there could be a little girl fairy, about as big asme?”
“Why, yes, I suppose so; if there are fairies at all. But I’m not surethat there are.”
“Would you believe it if you saw one?”
“Yes, if I were awake, and sure I was not dreaming.”
Dolly stared at Aunt Abbie, as if fascinated by her words. Then Pinkie_might_ be a fairy, after all!
“You’re a queer child, Dolly,” said Aunt Rachel, looking at the littlegirl’s perplexed face. “And when you find your fairies, don’t bring themin the house, for there’s no knowing what tricks they may cut up.They’re said to be mischievous little people.”
“Of course they’re little,” argued Dick. “I think you’re mistaken aboutCinderella’s godmother, Aunt Abbie. I think she was a little mite of alady.”
“Perhaps so, Dicky. I’m not much of an authority on fairy lore, I’lladmit.”
And then, somehow, the matter was dropped, and nothing more was saidabout fairies or their probable size.
But a little later, when the twins were alone in their playroom, Dollyreopened the subject.
“Dick,” she began, “why do you think fairies must be little?”
“Dolly, what’s the matter with you and your fairies? Why are youbothering so much about ’em all of a sudden?”
“Oh, nothing; I just want to know.”
“It isn’t nothing! Have you been seeing fairies, or what? You’ve got totell me all about it.”
“I can’t, Dick.”
“You can’t? Why not, I’d like to know! We never have secrets from eachother. You know we don’t.”
“But I can’t tell you about this. I promised.”
“Well, unpromise then! Who’d you promise?”
“I can’t tell you that either.”
“Look here, Dolly Dana, who could you promise not to tell me anything?Was it Pat or Michael?”
“No.”
“Then who was it?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Pooh, what a silly! Why, Dolly, we’re twins,—we always have to telleach other everything.”
“I know it, Dick, and I want to tell you, awful, but you know yourselfit’s wrong to break a promise.”
“Well, you might tell me who you promised it to.”
“That’s part of the secret.”
“Oho, it _is_ a secret, is it? Well, Dolly Dana, if you’ve got a secretfrom _me_, you can keep it,—_I_ don’t care!”
This was too much for Dolly’s loyal little twin-heart.
“I don’t want to keep it, Dick; I want to tell you! But I promised her Iwouldn’t, so what can I do?”
“Get her to let you off your promise. I s’pose it’s Hannah or Delia.”
“Maybe I can do that,” and Dolly’s face looked a little brighter.
“Well, do; and don’t talk any more about it, till you can tell me all ofit, whatever it is. Dolly, it isn’t anything wrong, is it?”
“No; I don’t see how it can be wrong.”
“Then let up on it, till you’re ready to talk square. _I_ never had asecret from _you_.”
“I know it; and I’ll never have one from you again!”
So peace was restored, and Dolly said no more about fairies. But aftershe was tucked up in her own little white bed that night, she lay awakein the darkness for a long time, trying to puzzle it all out. One minuteit would seem too absurd to think a little girl was a fairy; the nextminute, it would seem just as absurd for a little girl to appear in thewoods like that, and refuse to tell her name, and insist that theiracquaintance be kept a secret! _That_ was exactly what a fairy would do!
So, after reasoning round and round in a circle, Dolly fell asleep, anddreamed that she was a fairy herself, with a pink linen dress, and apair of wings and a golden wand.
The next afternoon Jack Fuller was again at Dana Dene to play with Dick,and again Dolly trotted off to the woods. She found Pinkie sitting on aflat stone, waiting for her. The same pink linen frock, the same strawhat, with pink rosettes on it, and the same sweet-faced, curly-hairedPinkie. Dolly was _so_ glad to see her, and fairy or mortal, she alreadyloved her better than any little girl she had ever known.
But Pinkie was not so gay and merry as yesterday. She looked troubled,and Dolly’s sensitive little heart knew it at once.
“Come on,” she said, taking hold of Pinkie’s hand; “let’s play.”
“All right,” said Pinkie, “I’ve brought my own dolls, this time.”
And sure enough, there were two dolls as big and beautiful as Arabellaand Araminta. Pinkie said her dolls’ names were Baby Belle and BabyBess, and, as it seemed the most natural thing to do, they began to playtea-party at once.
But Dolly wanted, first, to settle the matter of the secret.
“Pinkie,” she said, “you’re a really, truly little girl, aren’t you?”
“’Course I am,” said Pinkie, smiling. “I just said I was a fairy forfun.”
“Yes; I know it. But I want you to let me tell about you at home. It’ssilly to make a secret of it.”
“Well, tell ’em, I don’t care. I’m not coming here to play any more,anyway.”
Now Dolly looked dismayed. “Why not?” she asked, and went on withoutwaiting for an answer. “I won’t tell my aunts, if you don’t want me to,but I must tell my brother Dick. He’s my twin, and we never have secretsfrom each other. Why, here he comes now!”
Running toward them across the field, they saw the two boys.
“Is that your brother with Jack Fuller?” asked Pinkie, and with thisrecognition of Jack, Dolly’s last faint hope that Pinkie _might_ be afairy, vanished.
“Yes; I wonder what they want.”
The boys had really come in search of Dolly.
Dick had felt himself rather selfish to play with Jack, while Dolly hadonly her dolls for company, so he had proposed that they go and findher, and then all play together some games that she would like. Jack hadagreed willingly enough, so they made for the woods, whither Dick hadseen Dolly go, wheeling her two big dolls.
“Hello, Phyllis Middleton,” cried Jack, as he spied Pinkie. “What areyou doing here?”
The secret was out!
Dolly felt a blank pall of despair fall over her heart. Pinkie, then,was Phyllis Middleton, the daughter of the Middletons whom Aunt Racheldetested, and would have no dealings with! Indeed, Dolly had beenforbidden to speak to any of the Middletons. And then, as Dolly’sthoughts flew rapidly on, she realised that Pinkie had known all this,and that was why she said if Dolly knew her name they couldn’t playtogether any more!
Poor Dolly! Not only to lose her new-made friend, but to learn that thefriend was really a naughty little girl, who had deliberately donewrong.
“Hello, Jack!” said Phyllis. “I know I ought not to come here, and I’mnot coming again.”
“Well,” said Dick, throwing himself down on the ground; “is this yoursecret, Dollums?”
“Yes,” said Dolly, almost ready to cry. “This is my Pinkie, and I loveher, and now she’s the little girl Aunt Rachel said we couldn’t playwith.”
“Why not?” cried Dick, who had forgotten the Middleton ban.
Phyllis took up the story.
“I don’t know the beginning of it,” she said; “but my mother, and MissRachel Dana don’t like each other, and won’t go to each other’s houses.And when I heard a little girl had come here to live, I wanted to comeover, but mother wouldn’t let me.”
“And Aunt Rachel forbade me to go to your house, too,” put in Dolly. “Ithink it’s awful for grown-up ladies to get mad like that.”
“They’ve been mad for lots of years,” said Jack Fuller. “I’ve heard mymother talk about it to the other ladies. They call it theDana-Middleton feud.”
“What was it about?” asked Dick.
“Nobody knows,” replied Jack. “At least, none of us children. Of course,when there weren’t any children at the Dana house, we didn’t careanything about it; but now, it’s pretty if you two can’t play with theMiddletons! Why, they go to our parties and our school and our Sundayschool, and our picnics and everything! I guess Miss Dana and Mrs.Middleton’ll have to make up now.”
“They won’t,” said Phyllis, mournfully. “I heard mother and fathertalking about it. And they said I mustn’t come over here, or speak toDolly or anything. And then, yesterday, I did come over here to thewood,—it’s right next to our last orchard,—and Dolly and I had suchfun, I thought I’d come every day, and not tell anybody. But after Iwent to bed last night, I thought about it, and I know it’s wrong; soI’m not going to do it any more. I just came to-day to tell Dolly so.And after I go home, I’m going to confess to mother about it.”
Phyllis’s eyes were full of tears, and as she finished speaking, andDolly’s arms went round her, both girls cried in their mutualaffliction.
The boys were highly indignant at the whole situation.
“It’s a shame!” cried Dick. “If Aunt Rachel wants to be mad at Mrs.Middleton, let her; but I don’t see why they shouldn’t let Phyllis andDolly be friends. Have you got any brothers, Phyllis?”
“Only a little one, six years old,” was the reply. “There’s just the twoof us.”
“And you live just next house to us,” went on Dick. “You and Dolly couldhave lovely times together. I’m going to ask Aunt Rachel myself if youtwo can’t be friends.”
“It wouldn’t do any good,” said Phyllis, wiping her eyes. “She wouldn’tgive in, and, even if she did, my mother wouldn’t.”
“Well, I’m going to try it, anyway,” stoutly persisted Dick. “It can’tdo any harm, and if Aunt Rachel _should_ give in, she might persuadeyour mother, you know.”
Phyllis looked a little hopeful at this, but Dolly said:
“Aunt Rachel won’t let me play with you; I know it. She has said so adozen times, and she’s awful stubborn. But I’m glad you told, Pinkie,’cause it wouldn’t have been right for us to play together and nottell.”
“No, I know it,” agreed Phyllis. “I would have told you yesterday, onlyit was so funny when you thought I was a fairy! I thought I’d pretend Iwas one, and that would take away the wrong. But it didn’t, and when Ithought all about it, I knew we couldn’t keep on that way.”
The Dana twins were conscientious children, and they were both glad whenPhyllis talked like this; for it had been a shock to Dolly to discoverPinkie’s deceit, and she felt relieved to learn that it was onlyimpulsive and quickly repented of. But this didn’t alter the sad factthat the two little girls could not be playmates.
“It’s just horrid!” said Dolly, her tears welling up afresh. “We couldhave such lovely times together! Playing dolls, and tea-parties, andeverything. I think Aunt Rachel is mean!”
“I think so, too,” said Jack Fuller, “and I do believe you could coaxher into letting you two girls play together, even if the grown-upladies don’t make up.”
“Maybe we could,” said Dick, hopefully, but Phyllis shook her head.
“Mother wouldn’t, even if Miss Dana did,” she repeated. “I was a naughtygirl to come here at all. I wish I hadn’t; then I wouldn’t have knownhow nice Dolly was.”
Again the little girls wept, and the boys looked at them helplessly.
“Well, anyway,” said Dick, at last, “I’m going home to have a try at it.I’m going straight to Aunt Rachel and tell her all about it. It may makea difference, now that you girls really have met.”
“All right,” said Phyllis, but she showed no hope of Dick’s success.
“I say,” exclaimed Jack, “let’s all go! I mean, let’s take Phyllis, andall go to Miss Rachel and ask her about it. If she sees the two girlscrying to beat the band, it may soften her some.”
It seemed a daring proposition, but the twins approved of it.
“Oh, do,” cried Dolly, eagerly. “Come on, Pinkie, let’s go right now.”
“I can’t,” said Pinkie, firmly. “Mother told me never to go to MissDana’s house for anything at all.”
No amount of coaxing would prevail, and matters seemed at a deadlock,until Dick exclaimed:
“Then you stay here, and I’ll go get Auntie Rachel and make her come outhere right now.”
“It won’t do any good,” moaned Phyllis.
“I know, about your mother. But maybe, if Miss Rachel gives in first,she can persuade your mother.”
“Maybe,” said Phyllis, worn out with the conflict. “Go on if you wantto.”
And
Dick went.