Five, four, three days,—­the last little square was crossed off, the last dinner was eaten, the last breakfast.  There was much mourning over Katy and Clover among the girls who were to return for another year.  Louisa and Ellen Gray were inconsolable; and Bella, with a very small pocket handkerchief held tightly in her hand, clung to Katy every moment, crying, and declaring that she would not let her go.  The last evening she followed her into No. 2 (where she was dreadfully in the way of the packing), and after various odd contortions and mysterious, half-spoken sentences, said:—­

“Say, won’t you tell if I tell you something?”

“What is it?” asked Katy, absently, as she folded and smoothed her best gown.

“Something,” repeated Bella, wagging her head mysteriously, and looking more like a thievish squirrel than ever.

“Well, what is it?  Tell me.”

To Katy’s surprise, Bella burst into a violent fit of crying.

“I’m real sorry I did it,” she sobbed,—­“real sorry!  And now you’ll never love me any more.”

“Yes, I will.  What is it?  Do stop crying, Bella dear, and tell me,” said Katy, alarmed at the violence of the sobs.

“It was for fun, really and truly it was.  But I wanted some cake too,” —­protested Bella, sniffing very hard.

“What!”

“And I didn’t think anybody would know.  Berry Searles doesn’t care a bit for us little girls, only for big ones.  And I knew if I said “Bella,” he’d never give me the cake.  So I said ‘Miss Carr’ instead.”

“Bella, did you write that note?” inquired Katy, almost to much surprised to speak.

“Yes.  And I tied a string to your blind, because I knew I could go in and draw it up when you were practising.  But I didn’t mean to do any harm; and when Mrs. Florence was so mad, and changed your room, I was real sorry,” moaned Bella, digging her knuckles into her eyes.

“Won’t you ever love me any more?” she demanded.  Katy lifted her into her lap, and talked so tenderly and seriously that her contrition, which was only half genuine, became real; and she cried in good earnest when Katy kissed her in token of forgiveness.

“Of course you’ll go at once to Mrs. Nipson,” said Clover and Rose, when Katy imparted this surprising discovery.

“No, I think not.  Why should I?  It would only get poor little Bella into a dreadful scrape, and she’s coming back again, you know.  Mrs. Nipson does not believe that story now,—­nobody does.  We had ’lived it down,’ just as I hope we should.  That is much better than having it contradicted.”

“I don’t think so; and I should enjoy seeing that little wretch of a Bella well whipped,” persisted Rose.  But Katy was not to be shaken.

“To please me, promise that not a word shall be said about it,” she urged; and, to please her, the girls consented.