wicked birthday night--how you stole away in the
dark across the lawn, and wore your Glengarry caps, and how you didn't
come back until the morning. But you mustn't tell. Do you hear me, Briar
and Patty?"

"But why not? Why should you talk to us like that?" asked Patty. "Why
shouldn't we say exactly what we like?"

"You mustn't tell 'cos of Paulie. She is ill--more ill than you think.
She mustn't be punished, nor fretted, nor teased, nor worrited. If you
tell it will worrit her, so you mustn't tell. Why do you want to tell?
You have kept it dark a long time now."

"Because we are unhappy," said Patty then. "We haven't got hard hearts
like yours. My heart aches so badly that I can't sleep at nights for
thinking of the lies I've told and how wicked I am."

"Pooh!" said Penelope. "Keep your achy hearts; don't worrit."

"But it's past bearing," said Briar. "What we feel is remorse. We must
tell. The Bible is full of the wickedness of people not confessing their
sins. We can't help ourselves. We are obliged to tell."

"Just because you have a bit of pain," said Pen in a tone of deepest
contempt. "I suppose you think I never have any pain. Little you know. I
have done a lot of wicked things. I consider myself much the most
desperate wicked of the family. Your little pains is only pin-pricks
compared to mine. It would relieve me to tell, but I love Paulie too
much, so I won't. We have all got to hold our tongues for the present.
Now good-night. I am not a mouse, nor a rat, nor a ferret. But I mean
what I say. You are not to tell."

CHAPTER XXVI.

DECEITFUL GIRLS.

Miss Tredgold was dreadfully puzzled to know what to make of the girls.
The time was autumn now; all pretense of summer had disappeared. Autumn
had arrived and was very windy and wet, and the girls could no longer
walk in twos and twos on the pretty lawn. They had to keep to the walks,
and even these walks were drenched, as day after day deluges of rain fell
from the heavens. The Forest, too, was sodden with the fallen leaves, and
even the ponies slipped as they cantered down the glades. Altogether it
was a most chilling, disappointing autumn, winter setting in, so to
speak, all at once. Verena said she never remembered such an early season
of wintry winds and sobbing skies. The flowers disappeared, several of
the Forest trees were rooted up in consequence of the terrible gales, and
Miss Tredgold said it was scarcely safe for the children to walk t