we assumed an appearance of proud indifference, and pretended to be as
much occupied with our dolls and baby-houses as they were with their
barn. Now and then one of the boys, in the tantalizing spirit of
mischief, would thrust a parcel under our very eyes, exclaiming at the
same time: "Wouldn't you like to see the inside, though? Confess, now,
that you would give your very ears to know what's in it!"

"Indeed, and we would not!" in great indignation, "not we! We supposed
that it was some boys' nonsense not worth talking about, and were quite
occupied with our own affairs, without troubling ourselves about them."

In a tone that sounded very much as though he were in earnest, Charles
would continue: "Suppose, Henry, that we let them know what it is, if
they promise not to tell--shall we?"

"By no means," Henry would reply, with the air of a Socrates, "Women can
never keep a secret--I have heard my father say so."

"We were sure we didn't want to hear their secrets!" and indignantly
clipping away with our scissors, we turned a deaf ear to all further
remarks. However, the secret did come to light after a while, and in a
most unexpected manner.

We had just received a liberal allowance of pocket-money, and while
Ellen and I deliberated on the various ways in which it might be spent
to advantage, Henry asked us, with a perfectly grave face, if we had
heard of the new store lately opened near us? _New_ store! Why there had
never been any store at all, except the little stand kept by old Betty
Tweednor, and now Henry spoke of the new store as though such a thing
had ever existed. Certainly we had not heard of it; but resolving to