"I've got a little more money, and we'll have some ice cream," said
Patricia.

Arabella wondered where she got her money, but dared not ask her, and
while she was thinking about it Patricia spoke.

"I asked you over to my house because I think I'd like you for my best
friend," she said, "and because I've got something to tell you."

Arabella stared at her through her glasses, but she said nothing.

"You're sort of old-fashioned," Patricia continued, "but I guess we can
play together nicely, and you needn't be provoked at what I said, for
we're going to have a secret the very first thing, and I'll tell it to
you when we're having our ice cream."

They entered a tiny store which the sign stated was an "Ice Cream
Parlor." There was room for but three little tables, but Arabella
thought it quite grand, for the wall-paper was covered with gaudy
flowers, and the ice cream was very pink.

They took tiny sips that the treat might last longer, and Arabella
watched Patricia, and waited to hear what she had to tell.

At last Patricia lost patience.

"Why don't you ask what the secret is?" she asked.

"Why don't you tell it if it's worth telling?" Arabella asked, coolly.