Will O’ the Wisp by Patricia Wentworth Page A

roughly:
    â€œTommy won’t notice what you wear.”
    â€œYou seem to have a great many clothes,” said Betty in her most disagreeable voice.
    â€œâ€™M—I have. I like having lots; then I can wear the wicked ones when I feel good, and the little mild angel frocks when I’m going to run amuck.” She blew an impudent kiss at David. “That’s the way I keep the balance true.”
    â€œAnd who pays for the frocks?” said Betty.
    Folly gazed at her artlessly.
    â€œOh, I can always find a man to do that,” she said.
    â€œFolly! How could you?” said Eleanor when they had gone upstairs.
    â€œHow could I what?”
    Eleanor took her firmly by the arm.
    â€œCome into my room. You’re a little wretch, and I’m going to scold you.”
    Folly skipped on to the bed and sat there with one leg tucked up under her. With the heel of the other she drummed against the brass of the bedstead.
    â€œFolly, you shouldn’t—you shouldn’t really! I hated to hear you say it.”
    Folly drummed.
    â€œSay what? What did I say?”
    â€œYou said you could always get a man to pay for your clothes.”
    â€œSo I can.”
    â€œFolly!”
    Folly made large round eyes.
    â€œI’m the cat with the eyes like mill-wheels, and Betty’s the witch, and we’re all in a fairy story—but I’m not quite sure who’s the prince,” she announced.
    â€œFolly, you shouldn’t have said it.”
    â€œWhy not, if it was true?”
    â€œIt wasn’t—it isn’t.”
    Folly blew her a kiss.
    â€œIt is—it’s perfectly true—I do get a man to pay for my clothes. I get George. And doesn’t he grumble?”
    She jumped down laughing and flung her arms round Eleanor’s neck.
    â€œI took you in! I shocked you! Oh, Mrs. Grundy, what a score! I’m games and games and games up on you!”
    Eleanor shook her.
    â€œFolly, it isn’t a game. People have beastly minds—they believe that sort of thing quite easily. Betty believed it. You saw how she changed the subject. I only hope—”
    â€œWhat?” said Folly. Her arms dropped. She looked at Eleanor defiantly. “Well, what do you hope?”
    â€œI hope David didn’t believe you.”
    Folly stamped her foot; her green eyes blazed out of a very white face. She said:
    â€œI don’t care a damn what David thinks!”
    With the last word she had the door open and was gone. Her own door slammed and the key turned sharply.
    It was a long time before Eleanor got to sleep. She woke with a start. Something had waked her, and for a moment she did not know what it was. Then the little click of the downstairs window came to her mind. That was what had waked her.
    She listened intently, and heard the window close; her own window, wide open above it, carried the sound. She ran to it and leaned out. It was much later than it had been the other night, and it was cloudy, with a low mist everywhere. She looked, and could see nothing; and she listened, and could hear nothing at all.
    She drew in shivering, more from strain than cold, for the night was soft. As she drew away from the window, she heard something, a faint sound which came from beyond her closed door. She opened it and stood there in the dark.
    The passage ran from her door past the head of the stairs to the wing where Betty and David slept. The old schoolroom was there, and a spare bedroom. Folly’s room faced the stairs. And it was on the stairs that something was moving.
    With a quickness born partly of fear and partly of a sudden sharp anger, Eleanor put her hand on the switch outside her door and jerked it down. The light at the stair-head came on. The passage shone bright and empty.
    Eleanor ran forward noiselessly. Halfway up the stair, with a black cloak thrown round her, stood Folly March, the fingers of her left hand resting on the balustrade, her eyes wide