The Mysterious Visitor

trotted along in silence for a while, then he said, "It’s funny, Trix. The Wheelers have pretty elaborate meals, with Celia serving in her black taffeta uniform and white apron and cap. But you never seem to feel uncomfortable at their place."
    "I know," Trixie said. "I can’t quite explain the difference. The Wheelers are informally formal. You know that having a lot of servants doesn’t mean anything more to them than having a roof over their heads. But Mrs. Lynch—well, I got the impression that she was scared of the butler. Harrison is awfully prim and proper. Oh," she interrupted herself, "maybe it was Harrison Di was talking about when she said, ‘I hate him. I hate him!"’
    "I doubt that," Brian said. "She may not like the butler, but I doubt if she’d cry when she talked to him over the phone."
    "I’ve got an idea," Trixie said. "Why don’t you boys go to the movies after dinner? If Di’s alone with Honey and me she may tell us what’s bothering her."
    "That is an idea, Trixie," Mart said, and Brian nodded his agreement.
    When they reached the stable, they groomed the horses and hurried indoors to take showers. Miss Trask stopped Trixie in the downstairs hall.
    "Come into the study with me for a minute," she said. "I want to talk to you, Trixie."
    Oh, woe, Trixie thought, following Miss Trask. What have I done now?
    Miss Trask looked puzzled. "Diana’s suitcase," she began, "arrived while Regan was giving her a riding lesson on Lady in the corral. Celia was busy, so I took it upstairs to the guest room, across the hall from Honey’s room, and unpacked it. I’m afraid Mrs. Lynch must have got the impression that we were giving a party, for she had packed two frocks with long skirts. They’re both lovely, but, frankly, Trixie, I felt they were too sophisticated for a girl of thirteen." She frowned. "How long have you known Diana Lynch?"
    "Since kindergarten," Trixie said. "We were very good friends until the last year or so."
    Miss Trask nodded. "Judging from those frocks, I’m not sure I want Diana to become a close friend of Honey’s. You see, Mrs. Wheeler doesn’t want Honey to grow up too fast. We want her to be a tomboy like you, Trixie, for as long as possible."
    Trixie chuckled. "I’m glad somebody likes me the way I am. It seems to me that my own family has done nothing all day but lecture me on how sloppy I look."
    "Everybody likes you the way you are," Miss Trask said. "You know how grateful we all are for what you’ve done for Honey. She was a nervous, sickly child when you two met last summer. She owes Jim to you, too. Why, you’re like one big happy family. I certainly don’t want that to change at all."
    "But why should it change?" Trixie asked.
    "A newcomer to your group," Miss Trask said, "could make a difference. But perhaps I’m wrong about Diana. It’s unfair to judge her when I’ve really only had a glimpse of her."
    Then suddenly the French doors from the veranda burst open, and Di stood there, her face flaming.
    She was wearing a strapless gown with a long, full skirt, and she looked so grown-up that Trixie couldn’t help gasping.
    "I heard every word you said," she stormed, her violet eyes black with anger. "Don’t you worry, Miss Trask. I’m not going to stay in this house another minute. I’ll call a cab right now and leave at once."
    Miss Trask was at her side in a second. "Diana, dear, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were on the veranda. It was very wrong of me to discuss you with Trixie, but you see, she has known you for a long time, since kindergarten, really, and we—" "Don’t apologize." Di’s voice was taut with suppressed tears. "Everyone likes Trixie, and nobody likes me. I shouldn’t have come out here. I might have known this would happen." She raced out of the room and up the stairs. In a minute a door slammed.
    "Well, that explains a lot of things," Trixie said. "But we can’t let her go home, Miss Trask. It isn’t her fault that she’s dressed all wrong. She didn’t want her mother to send those clothes. She begged her not to. But Mrs. Lynch probably knows that Mrs. Wheeler dresses up for dinner, and so she made Di do it."
    "Of course we can’t let her go home." Miss Trask was already starting up the stairs. "I’ll cope with this problem, Trixie."
    When Trixie entered Honey’s room a few minutes later, she found that Honey had just finished dressing. Trixie told her what had happened, while she took a shower. "I’m beginning