“Surely. Little Anne is as good a restorative as tea,” said Richard. The little girl came in on her summons with a flushed and happy face; she at once accepted Richard’s invitation to perch on the arm of his chair, though she first violently hugged Anne Dallas.
“I’ve been to instructions,” she replied to Richard’s question. “Yes, I am warm; I am very warm, I am so warm that I’m boiling hot, only I’m not to say that. It’s a pity. I think it’s one of the worst things that ain’t—are not—sickness, or dying, or op’rations, or something, that you can’t use strong words. I think it makes you hotter’n fury to be just about roasted and say you’re warm!”
Richard threw back his head and joined in Anne Dallas’s laughter.
“You often remind me of Margery Fleming, little Anne, and it seems that you share her love of strong language! I think myself it’s a useful safety valve. What instructions are you getting?”
“I don’t mean swearing, not blasphemy,” said little Anne, looking shocked by the idea. “I mean words that sort of rip and hit things. I wouldn’t swear, not for worlds! And I’m going to First Communion instructions.”
Little Anne bent her head as she said this and her thin, flashing, elfin face took on an awed look, awe that her voice expressed.
“At your age?” cried Richard. “Why, Anne, you are too young! When I knew about these things we did not join the church before we were fourteen.”
“I don’t have to join the Church, I’m in it,” said Anne, puzzled. “You’re old enough when you understand. And I do understand. Sister Annunciata says I understand enough to make me dreadful ’sponsible if I don’t try to be worthy. Though you can’t really be, you know. It’ll be next month, Corpus Christi; it comes early. Sister says it’s often later, but it has to come when Easter makes it. But it’s sure to be warm, she says. We’ll have white dresses and veils, all alike, so if a girl is kind of not able to get a fancy one, nobody’ll know which she is. Anyway, mother says pure white and quite simple is the way we ought to look. It is the happiest day of all my life. No matter what other day I have, presents, or parties, or—no matter what—that’s the happiest. How can I wait?”
She threw back her head and lifted toward heaven a rapt, ecstatic little face.
“Do you think it’s possible she will feel that is true? Isn’t it dangerous to tell her this? I’d be afraid of a disappointment and a disastrous after effect,” said Richard to Anne Dallas.