“So you haven’t found things quite so pleasant as you expected, eh, Miss Judy? You don’t find walking in Betsy’s shoes quite such an easy matter after all?” said a voice at her side; and, looking up, lo and behold! there, standing before her, Judy saw the old woman with the scarlet cloak.
“I don’t think it is kind of you to laugh at me,” she sobbed.
“It’s ‘too bad,’ is it, eh, Miss Judy?”
Judy sobbed more vigorously, but did not answer.
“Come, now,” said the old woman kindly. “Let’s talk it over quietly. Are you beginning to understand that other people’s lives have troubles and difficulties as well as yours—that little Betsy, for instance, might find things ‘too bad’ a good many times in the course of the day, if she was so inclined?”
“Yes,” said Judy humbly.
“And on the whole,” continued the fairy, “you would rather be yourself than any one else—eh, Miss Judy?”
“Oh yes, yes, a great deal rather,” said Judy eagerly. “Mayn’t I be myself again now this very minute, and go home to tea in the nursery? Oh, I would so like! It seems ever so long since I saw Lena and Harry and nurse, and you said yesterday I needn’t keep on being Betsy if I didn’t like.”
“Not quite so fast, my dear,” said the old woman. “It’s only four o’clock; you must finish the day’s work. Go back to the cottage and wait patiently till bed-time, and then—you know what to do—you haven’t lost your apple?”
“No,” said Judy, feeling in her pocket. “I have it safe.”