“She always does things just right. She’s one of God’s girls,” cried Freddy.
“Yes,” broke in Flaxie, strongly excited; “I don’t care if I can’t see her soul. I’ve seen it shine! Oh, it’s beautiful to be homely!”
Nobody smiled—they all thought Flaxie was right.
“Yes, it is beautiful to be homely in just Miss Pike’s way,” said Aunt Charlotte.
And then they went out to supper, and, as the twin cousins looked broken-hearted, nothing more was said about the house that Jack built.
“Oh, Flaxie, do you s’pose we’ve suffered enough?” asked little Milly that night after they had said their prayers and were lying in bed looking at the pure soft moonlight which shone on the far-away hills.
“I don’ know. I feel as if I had a pain, don’t you? Oh dear!”
“Yes, that’s just the way I feel; a pain way in deep,” replied Milly, heaving a sorrowful sigh. “And I ought to, I’m glad of it.”
“Glad, Milly Allen? How queer! Why, I don’t like to feel bad!”
“I don’t either,” said Milly, sitting up in bed and speaking very earnestly. “But don’t you ’member what Auntie Prim said that time we ran away from the party? She said children ought to suffer for their naughtiness; it’s the only way they can learn to behave better.”