"Perhaps she did not feel like it, after the way she thought you had treated her," said Mrs. Morrison, smiling. "At any rate, Eva, her conduct is not the rule for yours."
Eva sat silent for a few minutes. She had her pride as well as Amy, and she had been deeply mortified at the way in which Amy had repelled her really generous advances.
But Eva had this advantage over her friend, that she called her faults by their right names and combatted them as faults, instead of coaxing and nursing them as virtues.
"Well, mamma, I will do as you say," said she, at last. "I believe it will be the best way. I don't think Amy will refuse to hear me, and if she does, I shall be no worse off than I am now."
"That is right, my dear," said her mother. "But, Eva, don't forget to ask for grace to be gentle and humble. Remember 'Charity suffereth long and is kind.' Even if Amy is unreasonable, do not get out of patience with her. You do not know what provocation she may think she has received."
As soon as breakfast was over, Eva put on her hat, and set out to find Amy. Mrs. Preston lived in a pretty house in the suburbs, and Eva was tolerably sure of finding Amy at work in her flower-garden, where even at this late season she always found something to do.
Amy was busy among her flowers, as Eva expected, and just as Eva came up, Amy opened the side gate to throw some dry stems into the street. She started when she saw Eva, and seemed about to turn away, but Eva gave her no time. She walked up to her friend, and holding out both hands, said, with her usual frank manner: "Now, Amy, I want to have you tell me what all this trouble is about."
Amy colored. "Surely you know as well as I do!" said she, trying to speak coldly.
"I know nothing at all!" replied Eva. "Only that Dora Hayes says that you called me a liar and a hypocrite, and, as she has told me such a story about you, I think it very likely that she has told you something about me."
"It was what she told me you said that made me call you so!" said Amy, just ready to cry.