"Oh, Grizzel, where _have_ you been?" Prue said, catching her sister
by the arm. "I have been so frightened. Come on quickly now, or we
won't be ready, and _then_ there will be a hullabuloo and goodness
knows what tomorrow."

They hurried back to the house, and were met by an anxious Bridget
with Baby in her arms. Bridget scolded, and Baby laughed, and they
were all so busy "getting ready" that it was not till three white
muslin frocks were spread primly over three green damask Victorian
chairs that Prudence found time to ask:

"How on earth did you get down from the tree?"

"I just got down," Grizzel answered, looking mysterious, "I invented
a secret way of getting down."

"Nonsense," Prudence said rather crossly; "there can't be a secret
way down."

"Well, find out for yourself," Grizzel retorted, her face taking on
an obstinate expression.

"But how _did_ you?" Mollie asked, with an ingratiating smile.

Grizzel shook her rebellious little red curls. "It's my secret," she
repeated; "I won't tell."

"When did you find out that the ladder was gone?" Prue asked, in a
more amiable voice.