"Pen! Ink! Paper! And such a
lot of torn-up scraps! It's really very simple!"
But Pauline was on her way to the dining-room. "Terribly convincing,
isn't it?" Her tone should have squelched Patience, but it didn't.
"You can't fool me!" that young person retorted. "I know you've been
up to something! And I'm pretty sure father doesn't approve, from the
way you waited out there in the hall just now."
Pauline did not answer; she was busy laying the cloth for supper.
"Anything up, Paul?" Hilary urged, following her sister out to the
dining-room.
"The barometer--a very little; I shouldn't wonder if we had a clear day
to-morrow."
"You are as provoking as Impatience! But I needn't have asked; nothing
worth while ever does happen to us."
"You know perfectly well, Pauline Almy Shaw!" Patience proclaimed,
from the curtained archway between the rooms. "You know perfectly
well, that the ev'dence against you is most in-crim-i-na-ting!"
Patience delighted in big words.
"Hilary," Pauline broke in, "I forgot to tell you, I met Mrs. Dane this
morning; she wants us to get up a social--'If the young ladies at the
parsonage will,' and so forth."
"I hate socials! Besides, there aren't any 'young ladies' at the
parsonage; or, at any rate, only one.
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