“Robbie has dropped a paper, Bea,” she said, “I saw it flutter. Come.”
Bea flitted across the grass, her bright hair an aureole in the sunlight. Her fingers seized the bit of white; her eyes read the message:
“Sunday evening after Bible lecture.
“Jessica and the rest of us are choosing mottoes to live out just for experiment this week.
“Marian: ‘Love seeketh not her own.’ (She always gets to places first.)
“Alice: ‘Is not easily provoked.’ (Oh, oh!)
“Louise: ‘Is not puffed up.’ (Ah!)
“Jessica: ‘is kind.’ (And when she is good, she is very, very good.)
Elizabeth: “envieth not.” (My brain doesn’t suit.)