“Now you can see the fleecy clouds,” chirped Doris, “and pretend you are floating and resting, honey, on one of those billowy boats up there in that deep, blue sea.”
Kitty laughed in a silvery, tinkling tone.
“I believe we could almost see Barry Manor today, the air is so clear and there is no sign of haze or fog to obstruct one’s view. I should have brought my field-glasses with me, Dory, and then we could see our Alma Mater, maybe!”
Doris could not restrain a laugh, so impossible did it appear to her that one could see miles and miles, even though the air were clear as crystal.
A smile, a bit wavering and uncertain, flickered about the crippled girl’s mouth, as she listened to these two young girls, dressed in white, smiling happily, and the sunlight touching their hair with gold.
“Won’t you talk to us, dear?” asked Kitty, moving closer toward the bedside.
“Yes, dearie,” urged Doris. “Tell us about yourself. We want to be your friends, and we want to make you happy.”
“You must be an angel,” she whispered in a tense voice. “Can you make me well? Can you give me new limbs?”
Gently Doris stroked the little hand and pushed the tangled hair from her face.
“We aren’t angels,” she said kindly. “We’re just girls and very human ones at that.”