"When I am tired I look out of the window at the most beautiful picture I have ever seen. And I think how it will change all the autumn."
"And be dreary in the winter."
"I do not believe I feel about leafless trees as most people do. You see all the fine little twigs and branches, some days in a gray-purple sort of haze, some days tipped with shimmering gold, then silvered with moonlight or sparkling with frost, and I am content that the leaves drop off so that you can see how really wonderful they are. And when the wind tosses them all about, nature seems rocking them with a lullaby, you feel as if they were in some degree human."
"Oh, Helen, you ought to be a poet," Daisy exclaimed enthusiastically.
They had walked to Helen's room. Her clothes were all in the closet, her books lay on the table, only her writing-desk was on the chair. She had added nothing to the room, but she did want a case of shelves. And oddly enough she had not encroached on the other side. Daisy wondered rather at that.
"Then I may move in at once."
"Oh, yes. I shall be delighted."
"Come and help me empty my closet."
Helen did this with pleasure. They had a gay time settling things and were all in order when Miss Mays came flying along the hall.
"So you have formed a partnership, have you? I had half a mind to suggest it last night when we heard that Miss Craven was coming. I've just been introduced to her, and she's a positive fright. Lean, long, and lanky, beautiful alliteration, is it not? Helen, she would have given you the nightmare."