“Have you tried? And, dear, have you asked help?”
“No, Grandmother,” the girl answered slowly. “I—I don’t know why it had to come to me—I used not to be afraid of—anything.”
Mrs. Clyde smoothed the girl’s hair back from her flushed, troubled face. “If you would only tell me, dear.”
“I can’t,” Blue Bonnet rose; “I reckon I’ll go to bed now. Good-night, Grandmother. Where’s Aunt Lucinda?”
“Lying down; she has a bad headache. Good-night, Elizabeth.”
Upstairs before her aunt’s door, Blue Bonnet hesitated a moment; then she knocked softly.
“Come in,” Miss Clyde called.
“Grandmother told me you had a headache, Aunt Lucinda,” Blue Bonnet said; “I hope it’s better.”
“It will be by to-morrow. You have had a pleasant afternoon, Elizabeth?”
“Lovely, Aunt Lucinda; I staid to supper, you know. Alec is a very satisfactory sort of friend. Aunt Lucinda, don’t you think boys really do make more comfortable chums than girls—in the long run?”