The secret of the Mansion

care of me instead of taking care of me herself the way other mothers do?"
    "I don’t know," Trixie admitted, and then she straightened as a sudden thought struck her. "You know what, Honey? Maybe she’s afraid of you. Maybe she feels just as shy with you as you do with her. I think you ought to try talking more with her. What I mean is, you should tell her how you feel about things, instead of always going to Miss Trask. I’ll bet my own mother would be awfully hurt if I told somebody else I wanted a bike or anything."
    As though by magic, Honey’s tears instantly stopped. She sat up and stared at Trixie. "Do you really think so?" she asked, flushing with excitement. "Do you think she’d listen when I told her—well, about my nightmares, for instance?"
    "Of course she’d listen," Trixie said firmly. "She’s probably always wanted to be close to you but never knew how to begin."
    Honey sprang to her feet. "I think you’ve got the answer, Trixie," she cried. "I remember, now, Daddy telling me a long time ago that Mother was very delicate when I was a baby. She still isn’t terribly husky, and I guess I get my nervousness from her. I’ll bet in the beginning she just wasn’t strong enough to take care of me herself, and that was when the trouble really began."
    Trixie laughed with relief now that Honey was no longer in the dumps. "I’ll bet your mother is exactly like you, Honey," she said. "You two will get on together like twin sisters once you really get to know each other."
    "I am supposed to look just like her," Honey admitted, pointing to a large portrait which hung on the far wall.
    Trixie crossed over to look at it more closely. "Why, it’s you twenty years from now." She giggled up at the lovely, slender-faced woman whose wide hazel eyes might have been Honey’s. "What does your father look like?"
    "I’ve got a big photograph of him in my room," Honey said. "Come on, let’s go up there and get out of this morgue. This room always makes me feel weepy."
    A maid was turning back the covers on Honey’s bed as the girls came in. She unfolded a dainty, lace-trimmed nightgown and brought Honey’s silk negligee and matching slippers from the closet. "Will you be wanting anything else tonight, Miss Honey?" she asked.
    "No, thanks." Honey smiled and turned to Trixie. "Oh, I wish you could spend the night with me. We could have a long talk about everything and the next morning Celia would bring us breakfast in bed. Wouldn’t you, Celia?"
    The maid nodded. "Popovers and strawberry jam and one of cook’s famous bacon omelets."
    "Oh, please, Trixie," Honey begged. "If you do, we’ll be sure to get an early start for our morning ride."
    Trixie hesitated. The pale blue handkerchief-linen sheets and pillowcases on Honey’s bed looked very inviting. And the idea of having breakfast in bed when she was perfectly well was such a novel one that she couldn’t resist it. "I’ll telephone Dad," she said. "If he’ll let me off from feeding the chickens in the morning, I guess I can stay."
    Mrs. Belden answered the phone when Trixie called and gave her permission to spend the night with Honey.
    "May I have the whole day off, Moms?" Trixie asked. "We want to ride through the woods on the other side of the road and have a picnic lunch."
    Her mother consulted Mr. Belden and came back with the word that Trixie deserved a day off. "Have a good time, dear," she said.
    "Thanks, Moms, and good night." Trixie placed the phone back in its cradle and hurried down the long hall to Honey’s room. "It’s okay." She grinned. "I’ll have to borrow something to sleep in. Haven’t you anything else except those lacy nightgowns? I’ve slept in pajamas ever since I can remember."
    "I’ve got pajamas." Honey pulled a long mirror away from the wall and revealed several rows of shelves. "These are my camp clothes," she said. "Take your pick. They’re all too small for me now, but they ought to fit you even though you probably weigh more than I do."
    The girls played Honey’s radio while they showered and changed, and then Miss Trask came in to say it was time for them to turn out the lights.
    "Don’t talk too late," she cautioned as she left them alone. "At least, not loud enough for me to hear you," she finished with a laugh.
    "She’s really a great sport," Trixie whispered as she snuggled under the dainty sheet. "If I had to have a governess, I’d pick her every time."
    "I love her," Honey confided. "You should have