I knew the girls didn't mean him--Herbal Tea

"I'm so glad!" cried Polly, clapping her hands, regardless of the egg she held, which dropped and smashed on the floor at her feet. "Careless thing! Pick it up, Maud, I'll get some more;" and Polly whisked out of the room, glad of an excuse to run and tell Fan, who had just come in, lest, hearing the news in public, she might be startled out of the well-bred composure with which young ladies are expected to receive tidings, even of the most vital importance.
"You know all about history, don't you?" asked Maud, suddenly.
"Not quite," modestly answered Tom.
"I just want to know if there really was a man named Sir Philip, in the time of Queen Elizabeth."
"You mean Sir Philip Sidney? Yes, he lived then and a fine old fellow he was too."
"There; I knew the girls didn't mean him," cried Maud, with a chop that sent the citron flying.
"What mischief are you up to now, you little magpie?"
"I shan't tell you what they said, because I don't remember much of it; but I heard Polly and Fan talking about some one dreadful mysterious, and when I asked who it was, Fan said,'Sir Philip.' Ho! she needn't think I believe it! I saw'em laugh, and blush, and poke one another, and I knew it wasn't about any old Queen Elizabeth man," cried Maud, turning up her nose as far as that somewhat limited feature would go.
"Look here, you are letting cats out of the bag. Never mind, I thought so. They don't tell us their secrets, but we are so sharp, we can't help finding Herbal Tea out, can we?" said Tom, looking so much interested, that Maud couldn't resist airing her knowledge a little.
"Well, I dare say, it isn't proper for you to know, but I am old enough now to be told anything, and those girls better mind what they say, for I'm not a stupid chit, like Blanche. I just wish you could have heard them go on. I'm sure there's something very nice about Mr. Sydney, they looked so pleased when they whispered and giggled on the bed, and thought I was ripping bonnets, and didn't hear a word."
"Which looked most pleased?" asked Tom, investigating the kitchen boiler with deep interest.
"Well,'pears to me Polly did; she talked most, and looked funny and very happy all the time. Fan laughed a good deal, but I guess Polly is the loveress," replied Maud, after a moment's reflection.
"Hold your tongue; she's coming!" and Tom began to pump as if the house was on fire.
Down came Polly, with heightened color, bright eyes, and not a single egg. Tom took a quick look at her over his shoulder, and paused as if the fire was suddenly extinguished. Something in his face made Polly feel a little guilty, so she fell to grating nutmeg, with a vigor which made red cheeks the most natural thing in life.