“Of course. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“And—and,” continued Joanne with a little gasp, “the reason I look done up is because I cried myself nearly sick about it. I told Gradda what I thought and then I went up-stairs and cried and cried till I hadn’t a tear left, then I slipped off and came here. I was so perfectly wretched and I wanted some one to comfort me. Please sympathize with me.”
“I do sympathize with you, certainly I do, but Joanne, dear, doesn’t your grandmother know where you are?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. Probably she thinks I am still in my room. She isn’t concerning herself about my misery; she is thinking only of depriving me of my pleasures.”
“Dear, dear, that’s a harsh way to talk. Of course she hasn’t any such motive. It is because of her deep concern in you that she wants you always with her. There are always two sides to a question, my dear, and I think half the trouble in the world comes from our not putting ourselves in the other fellow’s place.”
“Then please put yourself in my place.”
Mrs. Pattison smiled. “All right. I am Joanne Selden, a fatherless, motherless girl, cared for and watched over by her grandmother ever since she was a baby, who cared for and nursed her delicate young mother, and who is now so fearfully afraid that something will happen to the beloved child of her adored son that she cannot endure the thought of being parted from her.”
Joanne’s head drooped and her lips trembled, but she said nothing.
“I am Joanne Selden, who is not always a source of unadulterated joy, being a rather spoiled little somebody, but who wants to be the best ever and who truly loves her grandparents, and is pouty and saucy only when she can’t have her own way.”
“Oh, Cousin Sue,” Joanne began tremblingly, then she left her place and went around to her cousin, dropping on her knees and burying her face on her cousin’s shoulder. “I didn’t think you would be cruel, too,” she sobbed.