It was not too good to be true, she thought, as she looked at the comfortable home, the new barn and the populous farmyard spread out under the quivering sunshine.
"It was not too good to be true," thought Pearl. "I can't complain, even if some of my dreams have failed me—and maybe—who knows?"
"It's got to come right," she thought it so hard, she looked up to see if Mary or her mother noticed. But they were busy with a hidden-away nest, just found in the willow windbreak.
The news of the neighborhood was given to her by Mary.
"The Paines are putting up a new house, Pearl, and Mrs. Paine has some real nice clothes, and they seem to be getting on far better."
"That's good," said Pearl, and then added, with such deep conviction, as if she were trying to convince some one, she said:
"There's nothing too good to be true."
At noon, when all the family had been fed, and the horses were resting in the well-bedded stalls—John Watson gave himself and his horses a two hours' rest in the heat of the day—when every one was present, Pearl told them something of her adventures on the six weeks of her absence. Especially did she tell the young brothers of the lonesome little boy who had no playmates, but who loved his mother so much he would not let her know that he was lonely.
Patsey had a solution of the difficulty:
"Take me back, when you go, Pearl, and I'll play with him, and let him fly my kite n' everything."