"And so we were! Just because we knew she was rich and might be in the way when we wanted some fun, or would look down on us because we're poor. That," glancing at her crutches, "makes some people mild and sweet-tempered, they say, but it only makes me hatefuller and selfisher every day! Lol, I'm going to tell you something so you'll see what a selfish thing I am. I swallowed that gumdrop on purpose so I wouldn't have to vote! I didn't have the courage to vote against her because you were so eager to have her join."
"And then you got sorry as you always do."
"No, don't give me too much credit! I got ashamed when I compared my conduct with others; but you were unselfish—you didn't stop to consider the disadvantages to yourself. You only thought of her."
While Laura, with reddened cheeks, disclaimed this with as much earnestness as if taxed with a crime, Ivy went on unheeding:
"I thought it over this morning when I took out my Sunset Book, and instead of writing down what we saw from the tower window—which no one could describe, no painter nor poet that ever lived, glimpses of glory that God lets shine down, sometimes, when the Pearly Gate is opened just a narrow chink (to let some little white angel in perhaps) and the clouds reflect it, just as the river does the trees, you know—well, I wrote this instead!"
Laura took the precious book and perused it seriously.
"May I keep it and read it to Alene? I know she'd enjoy it!"
Ivy demurred, but at last consented and on Laura's next meeting with Alene she brought forth a green paper-covered copy-book and, with a few preliminary remarks, proceeded to read:
"'Once upon a time—'"
"It begins all right, anyway," interrupted Alene, settling herself comfortably against a tree, and half closing her eyes, as if to hear the better.