But, indeed, Amy did not even think this. "Simplicity, sincerity, sympathy"—she was faithfully striving to make this the rule of her own life, and therefore she could not imagine anything lower in the lives of others. But she still kept her frank tongue, and she gave it rein, as the pair hurried officeward.
"Dear Gwen, if you only wouldn't chew that gum! It makes you look so queer, and spoils all the pretty outline of your cheek. Besides, I'm sure Mr. Metcalf doesn't like it. He always frowns when a gum-chewer has to speak with him about her work."
"Pshaw, what a fuss you are! There, then, though that's the first bit off a new stick, I've thrown it out the window. Is my cheek pretty? How do you manage to see things without looking? I never see you take your eyes off your frame, yet not a thing goes on in that room you don't seem to hear or know."
"I'm sure I don't know, unless it's because having lived all alone, without other girls, I love to hear the voices and see the bright faces. Oh, I do love folks! And it seems to me that every single girl in that mill is far more interesting than the best story book I ever read."
"Well, if you don't beat! But, say, Amy!"
"Well?"
"I don't believe there's another girl there would tell me I was pretty without saying something else would spoil it."
"Oh, indeed, there must be. If it's the truth, why shouldn't one say it? But if it's the truth, again, you have no right to deface the beauty. Do give up the gum."
"Why haven't I a right?"