Everything sounded delightful, and the boys went off in high spirits to prepare their lessons.
“Mamma,” said Winnie, after she was in bed, her mother still remaining beside her, “may I give away some of my books and toys to Violet when she comes?”
“What makes you wish to do so, dear?”
“I have so many, you know, mamma, and Violet has so few, and she would be so pleased. Besides, I feel sometimes as if I was growing older. I don’t seem to care so much for toys and fairy tales. I like some of my books better than ever; but I hardly ever read the stories I used to be so fond of, and I haven’t played with my dolls—Oh, I don’t know when!”
“And so you would like Violet to have them instead, would you?” asked Mrs. Digby, caressing the child’s head.
“Yes, mamma, if you don’t mind. I feel as if I’d not been quite kind to Violet all this while. She would have liked to come here oftener to play, and I haven’t asked her; and I haven’t been to see her when I know she would have liked it. I didn’t think about things once; but I do now, and I know it wasn’t quite right of me.”
“And you think Violet would be pleased by having the dolls and fairy tales?”
“I think she would; and I should like to feel that she had them. You don’t mind, do you, mamma?”
“No, dearest. If you do not want your toys yourself, it is better to give them to some one who will be pleased by having them.”
“Yes; and it will be nice to have seen the boys’ friends, and to have made Vi happy. I wonder I never thought about it before. Mamma, the swallows won’t have gone by Saturday, will they?”