“But you mustn't set your heart on it, Glory. The grandmother may not think that so young a girl will do for the boy.”
“She will when she sees Diantha, auntie—I am just sure of it. Di is so strong and helpful, and so cheery, and so full of courage, and never thinks of herself, but always of others.”
“Well, dear, we will leave it in the good Father's hands, and just ask him to bring it out in the way that is best for all.”
June and all its glory was touching the world, and the sweet air, full of the perfume of rose and honeysuckle, crept in and fanned two faces close together on the sofa pillows.
“Auntie, you haven't called me ‘Little Disappointment’ this ever so long,” Glory said suddenly after a long silence. “Is it a good sign? I thought—well—maybe it was.”
“Dear child!” Aunt Hope's arms were round Glory, holding her in their feeble, loving clasp. “Dear child, did I ever call you that? Are you sure? Well, I shall never do it again, dear, as long as we twain shall live! Do you want a new name, Glory?”
“Yes'm, please,” murmured the girl.
“Then you are my Little Ambition, and God bless you, dear!”
After that it was still again, and the cool darkness wrapped them in softly. They could hear the solemn tick-tock of the clock across the room. It was the same clock that used to say reproachful things to Glory when she was a little child and had been naughty. Once she had climbed on a chair and stopped its accusing tongue, because she could not bear it any longer. It was talking to Glory now, and she could not make it say anything but “Dear—child! dear—child!” over and over, solemnly. It was Aunt Hope's voice it was trying to imitate. Glory laughed out softly, under her breath.