"You know all about history, don't you?" asked Maud, suddenly.
"Not quite," modestly answered Tom.
"I just want to know if there really was a man named Sir Philip, in the time of Queen Elizabeth."
"You mean Sir Philip Sydney? Yes, he lived then, and fine old fellow he was too."
"There; I knew the girls didn't mean him," cried Maud, with a chop that sent the citron flying.
"What mischief are you up to now, you little magpie?"
"I shan't tell you what they said, because I don't remember much of it; but I heard Polly and Fan talking about some one dreadful mysterious, and when I asked who it was, Fan said, 'Sir Philip.' Ho! she needn't think I believe it! I saw 'em laugh, and blush, and poke one another, and I knew it wasn't about any old Queen Elizabeth man," cried Maud, turning up her nose as far as that somewhat limited feature would go.
"Look here, you are letting cats out of the bag. Never mind, I thought so. They don't tell us their secrets, but we are so sharp, we can't help finding them out, can we?" said Tom, looking so much interested, that Maud couldn't resist airing her knowledge a little.
"Well, I dare say, it isn't proper for you to know, but I am old enough now to be told anything, and those girls better mind what they say, for I'm not a stupid chit, like Blanche. I just wish you could have heard them go on. I'm sure there's something very nice about Mr. Sydney, they looked so pleased when
