But no old worn-out aphorism held for one minute in the breezy bloom of the House Where Jane Lived.
"Oh, I'm so happy," Susan exclaimed many times daily, "I'm so happy. I never felt nothing like your sunshining in all my life before, you Sunshine Jane, you! I feel like my own cupboards, all unlocked and aired and nice and used again."
Jane stopped caroling as she kneaded bread and laughed—which sounded equally pleasant.
"I'm as happy as you are, Auntie; it's so nice to be in heaven."
"I used to think maybe I'd die suddenly and find myself there some day," said Susan. "I'm glad I didn't."
"It's better to live suddenly than to die suddenly," said Jane, merrily; "when people are awfully bothered sometimes, I've heard their friends say: 'But if you died suddenly, it would work out somehow,' and I wanted to say: 'Why not live suddenly instead of dying suddenly, and then everything's bound to come out splendidly.'"
"Oh, Jane, what a grand idea,—to live suddenly! That's what I've done, surely."
"Yes," said Jane, "that's what I did, too. Instead of fading out of life, we just bloomed into life. It's just as easy, and a million times more fun."
"And it's all so awfully agreeable," said Susan. "My things look so nice, all set different, and it's so pleasant having folks coming in, and I like it all, and we haven't to fuss with the garden."
"I attend to the garden!" cried a voice outside, and a mysterious hand shoved a basket of peas over the window-ledge.