Keeping Secrets Read Free Page A

glimpse of the woman she thought she had seen. She dropped to the top stair beside Miss Hennessey, who whispered into Peg’s ear, “I left my reticule somewhere downstairs. I was on my way to retrieve it but was suddenly overcome with dizziness. I sat down, afraid I’d fall.”
    “I’ll get Ma,” Peg said and began to rise, but Miss Hennessey clutched Peg’s arm with fragile, trembling fingers.
    “Please don’t worry your mother with my condition,” she murmured. “I’m feeling stronger now. I’m sure I can go back to my room unaided, but I do need the sleeping powders I keep in my reticule. Please, Peg, will you fetch it for me?”
    Tears welled up in Miss Hennessey’s eyes. She looked so pitiful that sympathy for her immediately swept away any doubts Peg may have had. “Of course I will,” she said.
    She helped Miss Hennessey to her feet and trotted down the stairs and into the parlor.
    The conversation suddenly stopped.
    “You were talking about Miss Hennessey, weren’t you?” Peg demanded.
    Frances looked surprised. “We were talking about Petey. I was telling them how well he’s reading now and about some of the funny stories he makes up.”
    “It doesn’t matter what we were talking about,” Masaid sternly. “Just what are you doing out of bed so long after your bedtime?”
    Peg sighed elaborately and rolled her eyes. “Ma, you just take it for granted that I’m breaking rules. You don’t even give me a chance to explain, even though I have a perfectly good reason for coming downstairs. You don’t even
ask
why I’m here.”
    “That’s exactly what I did do—ask,” Ma told her. “And now will you please give us the answer?”
    Indignantly, Peg stood as tall as she could. “Miss Hennessey left her reticule on a table. She asked me to get it for her.”
    Ma put down her mending, and got to her feet. “You’re right, Peg. You did have a good reason. I’ll help you find the reticule.”
    Frances jumped up. “I know where it is. It’s on the table by the door,” she said.
    “I’ll get it myself!” Peg whirled around, swept up the plain, black reticule and marched toward the stairs. When she realized that Ma was right on her heels she stopped and turned. “Miss Hennessey asked me not to bother you,” she said. “She won’t like it if you come upstairs.”
    “She may need something,” Ma answered. “Fresh water or an extra blanket.”
    “If she does, I can take care of it,” Peg complained. “I know how to fetch water or find a blanket.”
    Ma put her hands on Peg’s shoulders. For an instant she hesitated. Then she said, “Don’t be so quick to imagine offense, love. You’re a fine, capable girl, and I appreciate all that you do. Give us a kiss now, and I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.”
    Her resentment dissolving in a rush, Peg kissed her mother’s cheek and hurried up the stairs.
    She dutifully offered the fresh water and extrablanket to Miss Hennessey, who huddled in the middle of the bed, the quilt pulled up to her nose.
    “No, thank you,” Miss Hennessey mumbled. “I need nothing more than rest.”
    Peg, more sleepy than she’d want to admit, gratefully shut the door to the guest room behind her and headed for her own bed.
    In the morning she reluctantly prepared for school, begging Ma, “Can’t I at least stay until Frances gets the horse and wagon?”
    When Ma shook her head, Peg turned to Frances. “Why can’t you visit with us longer? Do you have to go so soon?”
    “I’m needed at home,” Frances said, and Peg saw Ma wince.
    “This is your home, too,” Peg insisted.
    Frances glanced at Ma and smiled, then gently smoothed the curly, red fringe of hair that hung over Peg’s forehead. “I’m teaching school now, Peg. I was lucky to find a full-time position nearby, and I don’t want to lose it.”
    “Teaching school? Oh, Frances! I wish you were my teacher!”
    “No, you don’t,” Frances teased. “I’d make you stay after