“Oh dear me, what a notion,” exclaimed Miss Jewett. “It is much nicer to be rosy and healthy and strong and active.”
Elizabeth looked doubtful. She was generally very ready to adopt Miss Jewett’s opinions, but she could not give up this treasured idea at once though she did not say so; instead she asked solemnly, “Miss Jewett, were you ever at the point of death?”
Miss Jewett smiled. “I believe so, when I was a child.”
Elizabeth sighed regretfully. “I never was.”
“You think it is something to boast of?” said Miss Jewett. “Why?”
Elizabeth cast about in her mind for a true reason, but she could not settle upon a satisfactory one. “I don’t know exactly,” she answered at last, “but we girls always do. I suppose it is just like having the biggest or the finest or the rarest of anything; we feel proud of it because it goes ahead of what the rest have.”
Miss Jewett laughed. “That is not a bad explanation, Elizabeth. You use your mind very well, though one doesn’t always want to be the biggest in all directions.”
“No,” returned Elizabeth with conviction, “I shouldn’t want to be the biggest liar or thief, for instance.”
They all laughed, Miss Jewett included. “You’d better come in now,” she said. “We want to have that Thanksgiving story, you remember.”
“But that won’t even be a fib,” retorted Elizabeth merrily.