Green."

Sue handed the blank-book across to the Imp and said, as witheringly as she could:

"Here, take it, if you want it as badly as that! Of course you know you're taking a mean advantage of us, but that's nothing to you. Fire away!"

"I thought you couldn't wait till tomorrow," the Imp retorted. "Well, here goes. Miss Yvonne rode up in an auto because she had someone with her."

"Who was it?" cried Carol impatiently. "Don't dole out your information in little drops. Tell us the rest."

"I didn't ask the person's name," said the Imp, in that maddeningly polite way she sometimes assumed. "It didn't seem any affair of mine."

"Naturally," Sue answered, as calmly as she could. "We'd only be much obliged to know whether it was a man, woman, girl, boy, or baby. Please remember you've got the book and that you haven't paid for it yet."

"I always pay my debts," she answered, trying not to giggle, "and I only agreed to tell you the reason why Miss Yvonne came up in the auto. I've done that. But since you're so hard up for information, I'll hand out a little more small change, just because I'm sorry for you. It was a man, a very old man, all wrapped up in a big fur coat."

"Did Louis know he was coming?" Carol demanded.

"Oh, no! Louis didn't know," answered the Imp, "but I did; for I heard Miss Yvonne telling old Mr. Meadows yesterday, when they were out by the barn, that all was ready for 'Monsieur's' arrival tomorrow."

"You're a mean little thing to be always eavesdropping about," cried Sue, "and meaner yet never to tell us a word of what you hear."

"You're quite mistaken if you think I eavesdrop, as you call it," retorted the Imp indignantly. "I was in plain sight all the time yesterday, patching up that snow-fort of Louis's, and they both saw me. Only Miss Yvonne spoke in French, and I guess she doesn't know that I understand it. As for not telling you two anything, I'd like to know why I should. You never tell anything to me, that is, if you can possibly help it." This was entirely true, as they were bound to confess.

The Imp took up her book and marched huffily to the door. But before she left the room she turned and called back:

"It's a thankless job trying to be nice to you 

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