Her tone impressed him as unduly mysterious. "What is it?" he asked
indifferently.

"Come, and I'll show you."

"I sha'n't come till you tell me," he persisted.

"Oh, I think you might, because if I stop to tell you she may be gone."

"Who'll be gone? You might have told it twice over in this time."

"The girl I want you to see," explained Katherine, drawing nearer in
desperation. "Did you know there was a girl next door?"

"Yes, of course." There was nothing in Maurice's tone to indicate how
brief a time had passed since this information had been acquired.

"Truly? I don't believe it," Katherine faltered.

"She is Mrs. Whittredge's granddaughter, and her name is Rosalind, so
now!"

Privately, Katherine thought her brother's power of finding things out,
little short of supernatural. "Don't you want to see her?" she asked
meekly. "There is a thin place in the hedge behind the calycanthus bush,
and she is walking to and fro studying something." Would Maurice declare
he had already seen this girl?

Maurice sat up and reached for a crutch that rested against the tree. He
had his share of curiosity. He was a tall, well-grown boy of thirteen, and