[CHAPTER VII]
Another Side of Ivy
IT was very good for Hecla to have her little cousin in the house. She had always been an only child among grown-up people, and they had given way to her, and had tried to make her happy. But now there was a younger child who had to be given way to, and to be made happy; and Hecla was expected to take her share in this.
And she was most willing to do so. Hecla had her faults, as we have seen, and some very tiresome faults; but selfishness was not one of them. She was ready to give up anything to Ivy, and wanted to make presents of half her toys to the younger child. If Ivy admired something of hers, Hecla would give it to her directly.
Another good point, already noted, was that she seldom showed jealousy. Though she did just at first feel a little hurt to see her chum doing things for the new little girl which he had never done for his older friend, that was only a passing feeling, and it did not make her cross or unhappy. It did not trouble her to see Ivy being petted and fondled by Aunt Anne, because she was so small and lonely. And when even Miss Storey, who in general was not fond of children, seemed from the first to take to this little one, Hecla was not jealous, not in the least. That was nice of her, was it not? Jealousy is such a disagreeable, ugly fault.
And she just loved to be allowed to help in any way with Ivy. She wanted ever so much to be trusted sometimes to take care of her. That, too, was a good thing for Hecla, for it made her not quite so impulsive and heedless as she had been.
By "impulsive," I mean that whatever came into her head she would do straight off, not stopping for a moment to think whether it was right or wrong. She was naturally what we call "impulsive,"—quick thoughts and wishes and intentions springing up into her little mind, and being instantly acted upon, without an idea of what might come after. Ivy was not impulsive, but quiet and thoughtful. That made it much easier for Ivy to fall into fewer blunders than Hecla. It made the fight against heedlessness much harder for Hecla than for Ivy.
Ivy's pretty gentle movements seemed made for the two aunts. They were exactly what Miss Storey thought nice and proper, and what she had tried in vain to teach Hecla. Hecla would bounce into a room, slamming the door behind her or leaving it flung wide open, whereas Ivy would walk quietly in, closing the door with no noise at all, and never tumbling over chairs or stools or rug-edges.
"She is such a little lady," Miss Storey sometimes said, with great approval.
And Hecla wondered how anybody not grown-up could be a "lady."