“Of course you don’t see,” said Amanda, patronizingly. “That’s what I’m going to explain to you.”
She paused a moment, regarding the “musty old book” in her hand lovingly. Eliza moved impatiently in the seat beside her and Amanda grinned at her.
“You remember I told you I was going to try for the composition prize?”
“Yes,” said Eliza crossly, adding with a frankness that might have been disconcerting to anybody but Amanda: “And I thought you were crazy even to think of it. You haven’t a chance in the world beside Billie Bradley or Rose Belser or any of those girls.”
“I know I wouldn’t as a rule,” admitted Amanda, her small eyes gleaming with triumph. “But with this book,” she caressed the little volume fondly, “they won’t have a chance against me!”
“And still I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” snapped Eliza. “I wish you’d stop grinning to yourself and get to the point—if there is one,” she added under her breath.
“All right,” said Amanda, too delighted with her own cleverness to notice her shadow’s bad temper. “Listen then, and I’ll tell you just how I came to think about it.
“I was rummaging through some books on the top shelf one day, trying to find one I needed, when down behind the rest of them I happened to come across this little old book of biographies of the great generals of the world. It was covered with dust, and so old and shabby-looking that I was sure it hadn’t been touched in an age.”
“Yes,” said Eliza impatiently, as Amanda paused for breath.
“Of course that was before the composition prize was offered, so I put the book back where I found it and forgot all about it. But now——” she paused and the “Shadow” saw a gleam of light.