another time. Good night, dear.” She kissed her younger sister and with a laugh pushed her toward the door.
In a few minutes, the house was completely dark and quiet, the occupants sunk in sleep.
And so we will leave them at the end of this first volume.
VOLUME II
At the close of our previous volume, we left the various occupants of Roxboro Manor wrapped in slumber.
Early the following morning, Caroline was awakened by a tap upon her boudoir door. “Come in,” she called, and the door opened to admit her younger sister, who came over to her bed, kissed her good morning, and then proceeded to make herself comfortable, seating herself upon the bed beside Caroline.
Caroline gazed at her younger sister speculatively, wondering just how much knowledge was concealed beneath the arch yet innocent exterior of her smiling childish face.
“You know,” said Caroline, “you somewhat surprised me last night. I wonder where you could have gotten the information you were giving me before we retired.”
“Oh, fudge,” replied Freda. “I know a lot more than you think I do. I know where babies come from and how you get them-really, the doctor doesn't bring them at all-that talk about bringing them in his satchel is untrue.”
“Why, Freda,” said Caroline, “if the doctor doesn't bring them, then where do they come from?”
“They aren't brought at all,” laughed Freda. “They come out of here,” and she placed her hand upon her lower abdomen in the region of her sexual organs.
“Why, Freda,” gasped the astonished Caroline, blushing furiously at this act of her little sister. “Freda, suppose our uncle should overhear you speaking of these things. What on earth could you say to excuse yourself?”
“Oh, uncle can't hear,” she said. “Besides, I guess he is pretty well informed about it. He must have one of those things himself.”
“What things?” inquired Caroline, eager to ascertain just how much information Freda had gained at school.
“Oh, one of those things that all men have,” the little minx replied. “You know, one of those things that gets hard and they push in your crevice-and golly it hurts! — but if you are wise, you don't mind and be careful so you don't get tripped up and have a baby. Didn't you know about that, Caroline?”
“Yes, I did hear the girls talking about it while I was at school, but Freda,” she said, looking sharply at her sister, “you seem to know too much. Have you really seen one of these things or handled it or had it inserted in you?”
“No,” said Freda, looking down, “I haven't seen one, but I know that all men and boys have one. Do you suppose that uncle has got a big one?”
“Oh,” gasped Caroline, “Freda, you mustn't talk like that; it's nasty. I don't know whether uncle has one of those things you mention or not, and Freda, when you were sitting opposite uncle, you were not very careful of your dresses. Why, downstairs last night, when we were talking to uncle, you sat on one leg and I could see up almost to your drawers. You are a young lady now and should not throw your legs about in such fashion. Besides, you must realize perfectly that your uncle is a man, and such things do not look correct before him and should not be done.”
“Oh, I don't mind; I like to look at him when he tries to peek at my legs. His eyes look so funny! I'll bet that queer ideas are floating around in his head; he acts so nervous and restless, it is funny.”
“But, Freda,” said Caroline, “I don't act in that fashion; really, it is most unbecoming. It isn't nice.”
“Oh, I don't care,” said Freda. “At school when they would let us go to town, we girls used to sit in the grass in the park and if some nice boys or men were sitting where they could see us, we would lift our knees, just as if we did it by accident, and gee, but it was funny the way they would peek! And funny! I thought I would die! Some of those silly men would pretend not to notice us at all, and would lie flat on the grass and then peek over at us, so that they could look up under our skirts. We knew it all the time, and Marjorie, the girl I went with, Would sit with her legs spread wide open and the slit of her drawers open, and she would gaze at the boys to see if their things would swell up and get hard!” The young girl rocked back and forth in glee as she remembered the young men and the swelling in their pants as they gazed lasciviously at the hidden charms so cleverly revealed by the girls.
Caroline endeavored to appear shocked and horrified; truly her little sister was not the tender, innocent lamb that she had imagined. She must be very careful in her conduct with Lord Roxboro.
“Listen, Freda, you have never seen these things that the men have, have you?” she asked, wondering if in her mad pursuit of knowledge her sister had really gone further than she had thus far revealed.
“Oh, you asked me that before,” replied Freda. “No, I have never seen one, but once I nearly did. I was dancing at a party with a boy and could feel it bump against me as we whirled in the waltz. I asked him if it was always hard like that and he asked me to step outside in the garden and take it out and examine it. He said that it would be a heavenly treat for both himself and me.”
“Did you go outside with this terrible person?”
“No,” said Freda, looking mournful and then laughing. “I giggled at him and he looked startled, blushing up to the roots of his hair, and then turned and ran away from me. It was comical the way he acted. I wondered what ailed him to dash away in that manner. I never met him again, or I would have dragged him out in the garden and hauled it out myself, the bashful little fool!”
“Freda!” cried Caroline, actually shocked at the cynical attitude of her sister. “Freda, that is bad; you must not ask boys to show you such things. Uncle would kill you if he knew.”
“Oh, I don't think so; uncle is not a bad sort of an old bean, and I don't think he would be so angry with me for inquiring about those things, anyway.”
“Don't you ever dare ask him anything about such matters,” cried Caroline. “Why, Freda, I will give you a good spanking if I ever hear you being so brazen; just remember that, now.”
“Oh, all right,” sighed Freda. “But I'm a woman now, don't forget that-if you don't believe, I'll show you. Look here!” she cried, throwing up her nightgown and revealing her lower body and spreading her legs apart, thus exposing a slight clump of fuzzy dark hair that was sprouting around her pink little cleft. “See, I have hair on myself; I am a woman now!” she cried.
“Why, Freda, I am ashamed of you,” said Caroline, nevertheless sitting up in bed and examining her younger sister as she lay sprawled on the side of the bed, exposing her entire body. “Cover yourself up, you brazen little baggage,” cried Caroline after a moment's inspection of her young sister's lovely girlish form.
“Oh, you are an old pill; you needn't be so modest; you are as bad as the boy that ran away when I wanted to look at his thing!” cried Freda. “I wonder what makes boys so simple. Anyway, the next one that tries to run away will not get very far.”
“Freda, you are terrible. I would like to know where you got all those wild ideas. You really must be more circumspect; it certainly isn't nice for a young girl to have such ideas, and it is just terrible to go about asking young men to expose their sexual parts for your inspection. One of these days you will meet a boy who will be more obliging and he will want to examine you in return, and no telling what is liable to happen; you may find yourself in a terrible situation before you get through.”
“Oh, what's the difference? Don't be so old-fashioned. Besides, I am a woman; I've got hair on me and everything. I'll bet you've got a lot of hair, haven't you-say, let me look, won't you?” and she reached over and attempted to lift Caroline's nightdress in order to look at her pussy. Caroline hurriedly clutched her garment in an endeavor to prevent Freda's viewing her hidden charms.
“Freda,” said Caroline, “I'm ashamed of you! Let me alone and either go back to your own room, or else get in here with me and behave yourself.”
“Oh, I'll bet you're not so dumb, young lady!” cried Freda. “I bet you know a lot more than your prayers, only you are too prissy to talk about it! I'll bet you have felt them, too, only you won't admit it!”
“Oh, Freda, you're terrible! Go on back to your room now and get yourself dressed. It is nearly time for
