said to tell you,” said Anne, in conclusion, “but not to tell Mr. Dexter, unless you gave me permission.”
“Mr. Dexter alone?”
“Mr. Dexter or–any one, I suppose.”
“Very well; that will do. And Mr. Heathcote is right; you are not to breathe a word of this adventure to any one. But what
fascination it is, Anne Douglas, which induces you to hang yourself over rocks, and climb up into caves, I can not imagine!
Luckily this time you had not a crowd of spectators. Bring me the fern, and–But what, in the name of wonder, are you
wearing? Go to your room immediately and put on the lavender silk.”
“Oh, grandaunt, that?”