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Updated: April 30, 2025
On Thursday she not only failed to own up, but indulged anew. All the week, as if Mary Pidwall's coming visit worked upon them, the girls had been very greedy for more love-story, and had shown themselves decidedly nettled by Laura's refusal to continue; for this was the week when the great revelation she had hinted at should have been made.
But this little piece of luck was outweighed by the fact that, shortly after Christmas, her room was changed for the one occupied by M. P., and M. P.'s best friend. So far, Laura had hardly dared to lift her eyes in Mary Pidwall's presence. For Mary knew not only the sum of her lies, but also held or so Laura believed that she came of a thoroughly degenerate family; thanks to Uncle Tom.
M. Pidwall's asked to the you-know-who's next Saturday." "No, she's not!" cried Laura vehemently, and clapped her Bible to. "S'help me God, she is," asserted Maria. "Look out, don't set the place on fire." "How do you know? ... who told you?" "M. P. herself Gosh, but you are a jealous little cub. Oh, go on, Kiddy, don't take it like that. I guess he won't give you away."
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