"I am afraid we can't, Zee. Sometimes I think there is quite a lot in common between the heathens and us preachers—and this is another bond of sympathy. So we will stick to the shoes ourselves."
Zee looked very sad indeed as the shiny shoes were taken up-stairs and carefully locked in an old trunk. Then sudden determination dawned in her dark bright face.
She raced into the yard, and began a desperate course of exercise, jumping, running, clambering up and down. Gentle Treasure, trailing her devotedly, was put to woeful plights. And Doris, looking out, could hardly believe her eyes when she saw the violent performance of lazy little Zee. Then came revelation.
"I am sorry for you, Treasure," panted Zee, pausing a moment. "But I am going to run and jump and climb and jar the life out of these old stogies."
For a moment Doris hesitated. Then she turned resolutely and closed the window.
"Providence had to overlook quite a little, even in the saints in the Bible," she said to herself excusingly. "I guess I can overlook a few things myself. Isn't it strange," she said to Rosalie, "that somehow the naughtier folks act the sweeter they seem?"
"I don't know what you are talking about," laughed Rosalie. "But if you mean me, I quite agree with you."