Fledra turned a blushing, happy face upon her friend.
"And I'm not going to sleep tonight, either. I'm going to stay awake all night and be glad."
This brought Ann's unhappiness back to her, and she smiled sadly as she thought of her own tangled love-affair.
"I want you and my brother to be very happy."
Fledra dropped her comb and looked soberly at the other.
"I'm not good enough for him," she said, with a sigh; "but he loves me, and I love him more than the whole world put together, Sister Ann."
The young face had grown radiant with idealized love and faith, and through the shining gray eyes, in which bits of brown shaded to golden, Ann could see the girl's soul, pure and lofty. She marked how it had grown, had expanded, under great love, and marveled.
"I know that, Dearest. I wish I were as happy as you!"
The pathos in her tones, the sad lines about Ann's sweet mouth, made Fledra grasp her hands in girlish impetuousness.
"He'll come back to you, Sister Ann, some day," she breathed. "He thinks Pappy Lon ought to have us kids, and that's what makes him work against you and Brother Horace. He can't stay away from you long."