How was she to guess that sleepless nights and bitter tears had dimmed their sapphire sparkle.
"Are your eyes weak, Mary?" she repeated, seeing that the girl hesitated.
A blush tinged the pearly cheek, and Golden glanced out at the foam-crested waves rolling in toward the shore.
"I think that the glare of the sun on the sands, and on the water, is very weakening to the sight," she replied, evasively.
"So it is. I have heard others complain of the same thing. If the light affects your eyes I would advise you, by all means, to wear the glasses."
"Thank you. I believe I will try a pair," returned Golden.
"Oh, Mary, you will be a perfect fright, if you do!" cried out little Ruby, in childish disapproval. "You have covered up all your long, gold hair under that ugly cap, and now, if you cover up your pretty, blue eyes, you will be as horrid-looking as—as—I don't know what!"
"Never mind the looks, my dear," said Mrs. Markham, in her gentle way. "If Mary is kind and loving at heart her looks will not signify."
"But I do so love pretty things," said the child, "and I love to look at Mary. She looks like a picture at night when she combs out her shining hair over her shoulders. There is not a lady at the seaside this summer as pretty as my nurse!"
"Fie, my dear; you must not make Mary vain," cried the lady, half smiling.