"Did you put this in my pew?" the new-comer went on, secretly displaying the sugar heart. Sue nodded, but could not trust herself to speak.
"It was just perfectly sweet of you!" said Clarice. "I'm real glad to have somebody to speak to; I was feeling real homesick."
Sue was dimly conscious that it was not good English to say "real" in that way; but perhaps people did say it in New York; and in any case, she could not stop to think of such trifles. She was in a glow of delight; and when Clarice asked her to walk down the street with her, the cup of happiness seemed brimming over. She, Sue Penrose, who had never in her life been out of Hilton, except now and then to go to Chester, the neighboring town—she was the one chosen by this wonderful stranger, this glittering princess from afar, to walk with her.
Sue did not see Mary at first. At length she became aware of her, gazing in wonder, and she gave a little quick, rapturous nod. There was no time to explain. She could only catch Mary's hand, in passing, and give it a squeeze, accompanied by a look of intense, dramatic significance. Mary would see, would understand.
Of course Mary would share her treasure, her new joy, sooner or later; but just now she could not surrender it to any one, not even to Mary. As Clarice passed her arm through hers, Sue straightened her slight figure, and looked as if the world were at her feet. And so they passed down the street; and Mary, left alone for the first time since she could remember, stood in the church porch and looked after them.
CHAPTER III
MARY'S VIEW
Mammy, I have seen her!"
"Well, Mary dear?"
"Oh, Mammy, it isn't well! It isn't a bit well; it 's just horrid! I don't like her a bit, and I never shall like her, I know."