“So I am, darling, and it is delicious to belong to one’sself. They love me too.”
“Yes, I should think so,” answered Ruth, a little sadly. “Who could help it?”
“But we must not be talking at this rate; the day is too lovely. Where is mother? Oh, here she comes.”
In the bright exuberance of her feelings, Eva threw both arms around her mother’s neck and kissed her with affectionate warmth.
“Where are Ruthy’s things, mother? she must be dressed at once.”
“They are lying on the bed, Eva; everything is in order,” answered the old woman, fairly smiling all over her face.
Eva ran into the bedroom and came out with a sacque of fleecy, white cloth, and a hat on which some soft feather tips clustered like snow. These she put on to sister Ruth with her own hands, saying blithely as she tied the hat strings:
“Yes, Eva had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow;
And every where that Eva went