"What a lovely sash you have on," she exclaimed, with a sudden change of mood, holding up an end of Alene's plaid sash. "It's like a baby rainbow stolen from a fairy sky and hung 'round your waist."
Alene glanced at her sash with a new interest. She cared little for pretty clothes and seldom noticed what those around her wore; that she was dressed finer and more fashionably than Laura and Ivy had not once occurred to her.
"That sounds like poetry," she observed.
"Yes, she writes poetry, too!" Laura returned proudly. "You must let Alene see some of it—and she keeps a book where she writes all about the sky when the sun sets—she sees lovely rivers and golden hills and ladies riding in skiffs—"
"Now, Lol!" cried Ivy with a hectic color reddening her cheeks. "It's just silly stuff, you know, that I put down to pass away the time when I'm laid up," she explained. "I thought of it one evening when the boarders were at supper; the boys were eating and mother of course too busy to stay with me. Hugh brought in my supper on a tray and hurried back to the dining-room and I sat there alone and ate my meal and watched the sky from my couch, which was drawn up close to the window. What wonderful things I saw then!"
"Tell me about them, won't you?" implored Alene.
"There were great purple mountains and emerald lakes and wonderful golden caves—people, too—angels with harps flying through the white clouds, ladies with crowns and long robes gliding along and little children swimming the river on the back of great swans like in the fairy books. Every evening it changed and at last I commenced to write about the different things I saw each day, and so I called it my Sunset Book. As for sunrises—" Ivy gave a sudden arch glance at Laura.
"Lazybones, I don't believe you ever saw one!"
"I'd love to see your book!" cried Alene; "and there are some beautiful sunsets looking from the Tower!"
Ivy glanced up toward the tower of the Big House that rose almost as high as a church spire from the top of the hill.