She thought, "I'll take them into the garden and tell them there—"
But though she took them into the garden, somehow she couldn't tell them there.
"As soon as we get back into the house," she said, "I'll tell them."
Even then the words didn't come, and Martha sat looking out of the window so quietly and yet with such a look of mingled fear and pride and exaltation on her face, that Cordelia suddenly seemed to divine it.
"Oh, Martha," she cried. "Do you—do you—do you really think—"
Miss Patty looked up, too—stricken breathless all in a moment—and quicker than I can tell it, the three of them had their arms around each other, and tears and smiles and kisses were blended—quite in the immemorial manner.
CHAPTER III
"We must start sewing," said Miss Cordelia.
So they started sewing, Martha and the two maiden sisters, every stitch a hope, every seam the dream of a young life's journey.
"We must think beautiful thoughts," spoke up Miss Patty another day.