“I selected that time,” she explained with dignity, “because when I’m brushing my hair before my glass in the morning I’ll see my resolution and remember it.”
“Mr. Marwood meant that ALL our thoughts ought to be beautiful,” said the Story Girl. “If they were, people wouldn’t be afraid to say what they think.”
“They oughtn’t to be afraid to, anyhow,” said Felix stoutly. “I’m going to make a resolution to say just what I think always.”
“And do you expect to get through the year alive if you do?” asked Dan.
“It might be easy enough to say what you think if you could always be sure just what you DO think,” said the Story Girl. “So often I can’t be sure.”
“How would you like it if people always said just what they think to you?” asked Felicity.
“I’m not very particular what SOME people think of me,” rejoined Felix.
“I notice you don’t like to be told by anybody that you’re fat,” retorted Felicity.
“Oh, dear me, I do wish you wouldn’t all say such sarcastic things to each other,” said poor Cecily plaintively. “It sounds so horrid the last night of the old year. Dear knows where we’ll all be this night next year. Peter, it’s your turn.”
“I will try,” wrote Peter, “to say my prayers every night regular, and not twice one night because I don’t expect to have time the next,—like I did the night before the party,” he added.