Things may be going less smoothly than we know; and it is difficult to tell from Miss Conway's face whether she is quite happy. She comes in to see Mother and me, but says little about the girls. And in a grave steady sort of fashion she is always cheerful; but, as Mother says, one can't tell if that manner is natural to her. I should like to see her really excited and pleased. I think she would become almost beautiful.
Thyrza certainly likes Miss Conway, but Maggie does not. I fancy Elfie gives her the most affection, and perhaps she would give more, if Nona did not laugh at her.
March 15.—Maggie has actually finished a story, and is sending it off to a publisher. The other girls have helped her to write, and have put in little pieces. I cannot understand anybody being able to do any real work in such a way; but of course people are different.
Yesterday Maggie asked me to go in to tea, and she read aloud the story to all of us in the schoolroom. I thought her very brave to do such a thing. She asked, too, if Mother would like to see it, but decided not to have delays. Curious—that though Maggie is shy about some things, she is not in the least shy about her writing.
The reading aloud did not take long. I believe Maggie thought she had written quite a good-sized volume; and when I calculated for her, and found that it would not be more than a tiny twopenny or threepenny book, she was almost vexed, and would not believe me.
Then Maggie wanted to know how we all liked the story; and the girls praised it immensely. I was puzzled to know what to say; for it read exactly like a rough copy, and the verbs were mixed up so oddly, and there were whole pages without a single full stop. And I could not make out any particular plot. The people in it come and go and talk and do things, without any object; and what one person says would do just as well for all the rest to say.
I could not, of course, be so unkind as to say all this to Maggie, especially just now, when I have had a little success! And, after all, how do I know that others won't say the very same of my story?
When Maggie would have an opinion, I said, "What does Miss Conway think?"
"I think it wants cohesion," Miss Conway said at once.
Maggie repeated the word, "Cohesion;" and looked puzzled.