The Mystery of the Velvet Gown

Juliet.”

The Accident ● 2

    EVEN THOUGH Trixie had a busy afternoon of classes, Jane Morgan’s comments kept bothering her, like an itch that wouldn’t go away. Lost in thought, Trixie was strangely quiet as she joined the other Bob-Whites on the school bus.
    “What’s the matter, Trixie?” Honey asked, noticing her friend’s unusual silence.
    “I was just thinking.”
    “Uh-oh,” Mart interjected. “That’s when it’s time for us to start worrying. Remember, Trixie, Romeo and Juliet is not a mystery; it’s a tragedy.”
    “I know.” Mart glanced at her sharply. It wasn’t like Trixie to ignore his teasing. “I was just wondering,” she said, turning to Honey and Di. “Do you know Jane Morgan?”
    “I went to elementary school with her when we lived in town,” Di answered, “and she’s in a few of my classes now. But I don’t know her very well.”
    “Neither do I,” Honey echoed. “I’ve probably spoken fewer than ten words to her in my entire life. Why do you ask?”
    “No reason.” Trixie shrugged, deciding that Jane’s comments would only hurt Di’s feelings and that it was probably just jealousy on Jane’s part, anyway. For once , Trixie thought, giving herself a mental pat on the back, I thought before I spoke.
    It was snowing lightly when they left school, but as the bus turned onto Glen Road and headed east, the wind picked up and sent snowflakes swirling in a crazy dance.
    Trixie pressed her nose against the bus window. “Wouldn’t it be awful,” she giggled, “if it snowed all night and we couldn’t go to school tomorrow?”
    “It certainly would,” Honey agreed. “We’d have a whole day to do all those boring things like sledding and having snowball fights.”
    Brian sighed with mock sympathy. “But Trixie would miss her favorite class—algebra!“
    “Terrible, just terrible,” Jim laughed.

    The school bus pulled up at the end of the driveway at Crabapple Farm and deposited Honey and Jim and the three Beldens. Brian walked directly up the drive, and Honey and Jim turned off onto the path up to Manor House. But Mart and Trixie walked slowly, taking in the quiet beauty of the snow.
    There was a blanket of snow on the roof and on the lawn, framing the house with still whiteness. Ice clung to the dark, bare branches of trees and bushes in delicate, lacy patterns. Icicles hung from the eaves of the roof in stark, sculptured beauty. The two Beldens stood in silence for several minutes, then slowly walked up the drive together.
    They were greeted at the back door by six-year-old Bobby, who held a freshly baked cookie in each hand.
    “Hi, Mart. Hi, Trixie. Wanna oatmeal cookie?” the little boy shouted. He handed them each a warm cookie, then raced back to the table to get one for himself.
    “Mmmmmm,” Mart sighed, taking a big bite of the hot, spicy cookie, “my favorite.”
    “Funny how anything edible seems to be your favorite,” Trixie teased.
    “It’s just that cold weather happens to increase my appetite,” Mart replied with mock defensiveness.
    “Uh-huh,” Trixie said, “along with rainy weather, hot weather, partly cloudy weather— and whether or not you’ve just had a six-course dinner.”
    “I knew it was too quiet around here,” Helen Belden laughed, greeting each of her “twins” with a kiss on the cheek.
    “Trixie!” Bobby interrupted. “Moms said you’d help me build a snowball man. Please, Trixie, will you, right now?”
    “Now, Bobby, I said you should wait to ask Trixie. At least let her get in the door and change out of her school clothes.”
    Trixie bent down and gave Bobby a hug. Even though he was a bother sometimes and seemed to have an endless supply of questions, she loved him dearly.
    “Moms is right, Bobby. Let me change my clothes and have some more of those yummy cookies, and then we’ll go out and make a ‘snowball man’ and angels.”
    “Angels?” He frowned in puzzlement.
    “Snow angels, honey. I’ll show you.“
    “Speaking of angels,” Mrs. Belden said, “it’s already the third of January, and we still don’t have the Christmas tree down. I keep hearing promises from all of you that you’ll help pack ornaments. Well, tonight’s the night, gang. Don’t make any plans for after dinner.”
    “I’ll help,” Brian said, “and I’m sure Mart will offer his services, too, as soon as he swallows those three cookies he just put in his mouth.”
    Mart gave his brother one of his famous