The Little Secret Read Online Free PDF Page A

bring people pleasure.”
    â€œPoor little kid,” Jane’s dad said later. “All she wants is a real family.” He told Jane that Staffa was always more than welcome at the Boy Garden.
    Once a week, Staffa took Jane for tea with Lady Matilda. Jane enjoyed these stuffy, strange afternoons. There were always amazing cakes, and large bowls of Woolworth’s Pick-and-Mix. Lady Matilda told more fantastic stories about her mountain castle. “Well, it’s more of a hunting lodge, really — much smaller and cozier than my main castle in the city. I often send my servants there when they’re ill.”
    Jane noticed that Staffa was irritated when her mother talked about the hunting lodge, and wondered why. Though she made such a racket while at the Boy Garden, Staffa was usually very quiet during these afternoons. She obeyed her mother’s orders like a servant, leaping up to make her endless cups of purple, gasoline-smelling Haw-haw tea.
    Lady Matilda talked about ball dresses and hats and jewels, and Jane pretended to listen while she stared at the painted box. The colors of the box were so vivid, and the paintings were so realistic, that she could have sworn they were a little different each time she saw them — had there always been a sunset behind those trees? Wasn’t that a new cloud beside the castle turret? She didn’t think she could ever get tired of looking.
    One thing bothered her. Lady Matilda’s stories gradually became more and more far-fetched.
    â€œOh, I wish you could see our Winter Sleigh Race, Jane! When the ice on the great mountain lake is so thick that you can build a bonfire on it! That’s where we hold the Skating Ball, and I hand out prizes for the fastest! And the ice boxing is very exciting too — but my favorite occasion is the Spring Flower Fight, when you can hardly see for the blizzard of petals!”
    It was all fascinating, but how much of it was true? Jane waited for a chance to ask Staffa without hurting her feelings. It came one sunny afternoon, a couple of weeks before the end of term. Staffa and Jane were in the paddock, sunbathing against the Wall of Death.
    â€œI must say, I admire you for being so patient with Mother,” Staffa said. “She can be such a crashing bore sometimes.”
    â€œShe does go on a bit,” Jane admitted. “Specially when she starts talking about correct behavior, and curtseying to people, and stuff. But I love hearing all the stories about your home. Is it — is it all true? You know, the castles, and the ice balls, and the midnight picnics —”
    Staffa laughed, rather grimly. “Oh, those bits are all perfectly true.”
    â€œAre any bits not true? Which bits?”
    â€œI can’t explain.” Staffa was unhappy.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œIt would take too long.”
    â€œWe’re supposed to be best friends,” Jane reminded her. “You should be able to tell me anything.”
    Staffa looked at her in silence for a long time. She shook her head. “It’s too complicated.”
    A very loud blast on a car horn made them both jump. A huge black car raced up the lane, and halted outside the front gate.
    â€œGood grief,” Staffa said. “It’s Mother!”
    â€œYou’re joking!” Jane was horrified — what on earth would Lady Matilda think of the mad, messy Boy Garden?
    â€œDon’t panic.” Staffa stood up briskly. “I’ll try to stop her from being too embarrassing.”
    The car door opened, and out climbed Lady Matilda. “Coo-ee, little girls!” she called. “Isn’t this a surprise? I’ve come to call on Jane’s parents! I wanted to see those shining honest faces for myself!”
    She was wearing a huge pair of tweed knickerbockers, as baggy as Victorian bloomers. They were teamed with a matching tweed jacket, squeezed very tight over her steep bosom, and tight purple