Pink as they were, they were not so pink as her cheeks, and her eyes
shone like stars. Amelia Spencer put up her hand to push back
a rose that had fallen a little out of place, and the Old Lady
envied her fiercely.
"That dress couldn't have fitted better if it had been made for you,"
said Mrs. Spencer admiringly. "Ain't she lovely, Amelia? Who COULD
have sent it?"
"Oh, I feel sure that Mrs. Moore was the fairy godmother,"
said Sylvia. "There is nobody else who would. It was dear of her--
she knew I wished so much to go to the party with Janet. I wish Aunty
could see me now." Sylvia gave a little sigh in spite of her joy.
"There's nobody else to care very much."
Ah, Sylvia, you were wrong! There was somebody else--
somebody who cared very much--an Old Lady, with eager, devouring eyes,
who was standing under the lilac bush and who presently stole
away through the moonlit orchard to the woods like a shadow,
going home with a vision of you in your girlish beauty to companion
her through the watches of that summer night.
IV. The August Chapter
One day the minister's wife rushed in where Spencervale
people had feared to tread, went boldly to Old Lady Lloyd,
and asked her if she wouldn't come to their Sewing Circle,
which met fortnightly on Saturday afternoons.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68