"Audrey," she said at last, "I am sure you ought to compete for that prize, and I can't see why you can't have a nice long quiet afternoon every day of the week."
"I do then! On Fridays I have to prepare my Sunday School lesson——"
"Well, every other day then."
"I take the children out while Faith sits with mother, or I sit with mother."
"Well, I will take the children out, or play with them indoors. I would love to; and you can have a clear two or three hours every afternoon. Do take them, Audrey, for your writing. When I have gone home it may not be so easy. Oh, Audrey, how grand it sounds. And some day, when it is finished, we will all act it—wouldn't that be perfectly splendid?"
Audrey's face was alight with excitement; her grey eyes glowed.
"But," she objected, "but——" She hesitated again. "It will probably be no good—a poor, silly thing——"
"You can't possibly tell until you have written it," said Irene, silencing her nervous doubts. "There—there are nine peas in a pod for you, for luck."
"There is no luck in that sort of thing."
"There is for the person who buys them; nine nice fat round peas, instead of three and a dwarf!"