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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/27987-h.zip b/27987-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e711222 --- /dev/null +++ b/27987-h.zip diff --git a/27987-h/27987-h.htm b/27987-h/27987-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f845464 --- /dev/null +++ b/27987-h/27987-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1874 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII"> + <title>Glory and the Other Girl</title> +<style type="text/css"><!-- +body {padding-right: 10%; padding-left: 10%;} +div.titlepage {text-align: center; line-height: 2.0; margin-top: 4em;} +h3 {text-align: center; font-size: 1.2em; padding-top: 4em; margin-bottom: 2em;} +hr {width: 20%;} +--></style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Glory and the Other Girl, by Annie Hamilton Donnell + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Glory and the Other Girl + +Author: Annie Hamilton Donnell + +Release Date: February 4, 2009 [EBook #27987] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLORY AND THE OTHER GIRL *** + + + + +Produced by Jeff Kaylin + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="titlepage"> +<h1>Glory and the Other Girl</h1> + +<p>by</p> + +<h2>Annie Hamilton Donnell</h2> + +<p>DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING COMPANY</p> +</div> + + + +<h3><a name="gI">Chapter I.</a></h3> + + +<p>Glory ran in the last minute to bid Aunt Hope good-by. That was +the one thing that she never forgot.</p> + +<p>“Good-by, auntie. I'm off, but I'm not happy. <em>Happy!</em> I'm perfectly +mis-er-a-ble! If only I had passed last year! To think I've got to go +back to that baby seminary, and the other girls will have entered at +Glenwood! Oh, dear! I'll never be able to catch up.”</p> + +<p>“There, dear, don't! Keep brave. Remember what a pleasant vacation +we've had, and this is such a lovely day in which to begin all over. +I wouldn't mind ‘beginning over’ again to-day!”</p> + +<p>Aunt Hope was smiling up at her from the cushions of the big couch, +but Glory's lips trembled as she stooped to gather the thin little +figure into her strong girlish arms.</p> + +<p>“Auntie! Auntie! If you only could!” the girl cried wistfully. “If +you could only take my place! It isn't fair that we can't take turns +being well and strong. But, there,” she made a wry face to hide her +emotion, “who'd want to be poor me to-day and go back on that horrid +train to that horrid, horrid school!”</p> + +<p>“Glory Wetherell, I believe you're lazy!” Aunt Hope laughed. “A +Wetherell lazy! There, kiss me again, Disappointment, and run away to +your ‘horrid train’!”</p> + +<p>But out on the landing Glory paused expectantly, taking a rapid +mental account of stock in readiness for the coming questions. +“She'll call in a minute,” the girl thought tenderly, waiting for the +sweet, feeble voice. “The day auntie doesn't call me back I sha'n't +be Gloria Wetherell!”</p> + +<p>“Gloria!”</p> + +<p>“Yes'm. Here I am. I've got my books, auntie.”</p> + +<p>“<em>All</em>, Glory?”</p> + +<p>“Every single one.”</p> + +<p>“All right, dear!” came in Aunt Hope's soft voice. And Glory went on +downstairs, smiling to herself triumphantly. Such luck! When had she +been able to answer like that before?</p> + +<p>“Gloria!” again.</p> + +<p>“Yes, auntie. Oh! oh! yes, I <em>did</em> forget my mileage book, auntie. +I'll get it this minute. But, auntie,”—Glory stopped at the foot of +the stairs. Her discomfited laugh floated upward to the pale little +invalid—“I've felt of my head and it's on. I didn't forget that! +Good-by.”</p> + +<p>“Dear girl—my Little Disappointment!” murmured the invalid, sinking +back on her pillows, with a tender sigh. “Will she ever grow heedful? +When will she come to her own?”</p> + +<p>Oddly enough, at that moment Glory was saying to herself, as she +hurried down the street, “I wish she wouldn't call me her +‘Disappointment’ like that—dear auntie! There's any quantity of love +in it, but I don't like the sound of it. It reminds me of the trains +I've missed, and the books I've forgotten, and—oh, me!—all the +lessons I haven't learned! I wish auntie didn't care so much about +such things—<em>I</em> don't!”</p> + +<p>It was a splendid September day. The sweet, sharp air kissed the +girl's fresh cheeks into blushes and sent her feet dancing along with +the very joy of locomotion. In spite of herself Glory began to be +happy. And the girls were at the station to see her off—that was an +unexpected compliment. They ran to meet her excitedly.</p> + +<p>“Quick, quick, Glory! We've ‘held up’ the train as long as we can!” +they chorused. “Didn't you know you were late, for pity's sake? And +it's the Crosspatch Conductor's day, too—we've had an awful time +coaxing him to wait! But he's a real dear, after all.”</p> + +<p>“Give me your books—help her on, Judy! There, take 'em quick! +Good-by.”</p> + +<p>“Our sympathies go-o with—yo-oo-ou!”</p> + +<p>The chorus of gay voices trailed after her, as she stood alone on the +platform. With a final wave of her book-strap she went dolefully +inside. Suddenly the September getting-off intoxication oozed out of +her finger-tips. She tumbled into the nearest seat with a sigh. It +was even worse than she had anticipated.</p> + +<p>“I wish the girls hadn't come down,” she thought ungratefully. +“Sending their condolences after me like that! I guess I could see +the triumph in Judy Wells' face, and Georgia Kelley's, and all their +faces. They were hugging themselves for not having to go back to the +seminary. Nobody's got to but just poor me. I declare, I'm so sorry +for you, Glory Wetherell, and I think I'm going to cry!”</p> + +<p>The “girls,” all four of them, had graduated the previous spring. +Only heedless, unstudy-loving Glory had lagged over into another +year, and must go back and forth from little Douglas to the Center +Town Seminary all by herself. Every morning and every night—the days +loomed ahead of her, not to be numbered or borne. Well, it was hard. +No more merry chattering rides, as there had been last year when the +girls were her companions. No more gay little car-feasts on the home +trips, out of the carefully hoarded remnants of their dinners.</p> + +<p>“I wish I'd kept up in mathematics and things!” lamented Glory, +gazing at the flying landscape with gloomy eyes. “If I'd known how +this was going to feel, I'd have done it if it killed me. Think of a +year of this! Two times three quarters of an hour is an hour and a +half. Let me see—in the three terms there'll be three times +sixty-five days. Three times sixty-five is”—Glory figured +slowly—“one hundred and ninety-five days! An hour and a half in one +day—in one hundred and ninety-five days there will be—oh, forever!” +groaned Glory. She sat and looked into the year to come with a gloomy +face. In spite of herself she multiplied one hundred and ninety-five +by one and a half.</p> + +<p>“That's the number of hours you're going to sit here on a car-seat, +is it?” she demanded of herself. “It's a nice prospect, isn't it? +You'll have a charming time, won't you? Aren't you glad you didn't +keep up in things?”</p> + +<p>It did not occur to Glory that she might employ the time in study. +Studying very rarely “occurred” to Glory, anyway. She went back and +forth from little Douglas to the Centre Town “Seminary for Young +Ladies” because of Aunt Hope. Aunt Hope wanted her to, and Aunt Hope +was a dear. She would do even that for Aunt Hope!</p> + +<p>The slow local train lurched on between grainfields and cattle-dotted +pastures, and the pretty, dainty little maid on the back seat sat on, +with the plaintive face of a martyr. In spite of herself the Other +Girl smiled. The Other Girl was not dainty, nor was she pretty unless +she smiled. The uptwitch of her mouth-corners and the flash of white +teeth helped out a great deal. She had never had occasion to laugh +much in her fifteen years of life, but now and then she smiled—when +she saw girls playing martyr, for instance!</p> + +<p>“It's funny, if she only knew it,” the Other Girl thought. “There she +sits feeling abused because she has to go to school—oh, my goodness, +goodness! She feels that way, I'm certain she does! It's printed in +capitals on her face. Diantha Leavitt, do you hear?—there's a girl +back there feeling abused because she's got to go to a Young Ladies' +Seminary! If you don't believe me, turn square round and look at +her.”</p> + +<p>The Other Girl was sitting sidewise on her seat to give her a +slanting view from under her shabby sailor of the trim little +tailor-made figure on the back seat. She had been watching it ever +since the train drew out of Douglas. She had recognized it at once as +one of the five trim, girlish figures that had got on at the same +place the previous spring. School-books and schoolgirl nonsense tell +their own story, and, besides, hadn't they always got off at Centre +Town, and wasn't there a Young Ladies' Seminary there? You could put +two and two together if you <em>didn't</em> study arithmetic—if your name +<em>was</em> only Diantha Leavitt and you worked in the East Centre Town +rubber factory, instead of going to school.</p> + +<p>The Other Girl's admiring eyes had taken in all the dainty details of +gloves, tiny chatelaine watch, and neat school satchel out of which +protruded green and brown books. With a fierce little gesture the +Other Girl had slid her own hands under her threadbare jacket. They +were reddened and rough.</p> + +<p>“I should like to know if she can smell rubber clear back there,” she +thought. “You ought to go ahead to the front o' the car, Diantha +Leavitt. Don't you know dainty folks don't like the smell of rubber? +Oh, my goodness—goodness—goodness! I wish I could get out o' the +reach of it for one day in my life! <em>One day</em>—doesn't seem like +asking a great deal, does it?”</p> + +<p>She straightened and turned her back to the dainty girl of luxury on +the rear seat. She would not look again. But straight ahead, on the +very front of the car, her gloomy, roaming gaze was stayed. What was +this she saw? The pretty, plaintive face of the schoolgirl, in the +mirror! She could not get away from it. The two pairs of blue eyes +seemed to be looking directly into each other, but the Other Girl's +were full of angry tears. The Other Girl sat up, straight and +defiant, and stared ahead unswervingly. Mentally she was taking a +scornful inventory of her own shabbiness.</p> + +<p>“My feather is perfectly straight;—it rained Saturday night, and I +haven't had any time to curl it over the poker. It doesn't belong on +a sailor, anyway, but it's better than a hole right into your hair! +It covers up. My jacket collar is all fringy round the edges, and the +top button is split. My necktie has been washed four times too +often—ugh! I smell rubber!”</p> + +<p>Glory consulted her little chatelaine watch impatiently.</p> + +<p>“I hope we're 'most there!” she sighed. “If this hasn't been the +longest ride! I know one thing—I shall bring my crochet-work +to-morrow, and my tatting, and my knitting-work, and my—patchwork! +There's more than one way to ‘kill’ time.” She smiled to herself a +little. From the cover of the tiny watch Aunt Hope's picture looked +up at her, smiling too. Glory nodded back to it.</p> + +<p>“Yes'm, I've got everything—I haven't forgotten a thing. And I'm +going to be good,” she murmured, as she shut the sweet face out of +sight.</p> + +<p>The train slowed up. Glory was feeling better because of the little +draught of Sweet Face Tonic, and she was even humming a tune under +her breath when she stepped down on to the platform. She stepped +daintily along with her pretty head held up saucily and her skirts +a-flutter. It wasn't so bad, after all, once off that horrid +train—good riddance to it! Let it go fizzing and puffing away. The +farther the better—</p> + +<p>Suddenly Glory stood still and gazed downward at her empty hands, +then at the fading curl of white smoke up the track. Her face was a +study of dismay.</p> + +<p>“Oh! oh! That horrid train has carried off my books!” she cried.</p> + + +<h3><a name="gII">Chapter II.</a></h3> + + +<p>Glory swung about on her toes and marched away to the Centre Town +ticketman, whom she knew a little.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Blodgett,” she cried, “what do you do when you get off the train +and your books don't?”</p> + +<p>The pleasant old face twinkled at her out of the little window. Mr. +Blodgett's acquaintance with Glory had been enlivened by a good many +such crises as this. In his mind he had always separated her from the +other Douglas young misses as “The Fly-away One.”</p> + +<p>“Forgot 'em, eh? Got carried off, did they? Well, that's a serious +case. You'll have to engage a counsel, but I ain't sure you'll get +your case. Looks to me as if the law was on the other—”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Blodgett,” laughed Glory, “I don't want to get my ‘case’—I want +my books! What do folks do when they leave things—umbrellas or +something—in their seats?”</p> + +<p>“Never left an umbrella yourself, of course?”</p> + +<p>“Ye-es—three,” admitted Glory, “but I never <em>did</em> anything—just let +'em go. This time it's my school-books, you see. It's different. I +don't see how I'm going to school without any books.”</p> + +<p>“Sure enough. Well, I'll see what I can do for you, my dear. I'll +telegraph to the conductor to take 'em in charge and deliver 'em to +you at your place, in the morning. How's that?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, thank you, Mr. Blodgett. You're a regular dear—I mean you're +very kind.”</p> + +<p>“Don't change it, my dear. The first is good enough for me,” the old +man laughed. He was thinking what a refreshing little picture his +small window framed in. Was it like this his little girl would have +looked if she had grown into girlhood? He gazed after the Flyaway One +wistfully.</p> + +<p>It was still early in the morning, and Glory loitered about in the +crisp September sunshine with an hour of time to “kill.” There was +but one early train to Centre Town, and that left Douglas at seven. +It had not been so bad, of course, when the other girls came, too, +but now!—Glory sighed pensively. So many things were bad now. The +sun might just as well be snuffed out like a candle and it be raining +torrents, for all the joy there was in living!</p> + +<p>“That was my fourth Latin lexicon,” Glory exclaimed suddenly, with a +vivid vision of Aunt Hope's grieved face. “I left two out in the +rain, and lost a lot of leaves out of another, and now this one's +gone on a tour! Poor auntie! I guess she might as well keep right on +calling me Little Disappointment.”</p> + +<p>It was an unpropitious beginning for the new term. Glory was obliged +to refuse three times to recite, on the plea of her lost books, and +double lessons loomed ahead of her dismally. But not for long—Glory +never allowed “making up” to dispirit her unduly. Studying, anyway, +was a nuisance, and the less time you let it give you the blues, the +better. If you hadn't any books you couldn't study—naturally. Then +why gloom over it a whole day?</p> + +<p>“Well, dear?” Aunt Hope said that night, as they sat in the twilight +together; “well, the beginning and the ending are the first day. How +has it been? You look happy enough—I can feel the corners of your +mouth, and they turn up!” The slender, cool fingers traveled over the +girl's face in their own privileged fashion.</p> + +<p>Glory remembered the books and drew down her lips hastily.</p> + +<p>“I've been naughty, auntie,” she confessed softly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Glory!—again?”</p> + +<p>“Yes'm, I'm afraid so. I'm afraid I've—lost something.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Hope drew a long, patient breath before she spoke. Her fingers +still lingered on the smooth cheeks and then wandered slowly to the +tangle of soft hair. The little girl half hidden from her by the dusk +was so dear to her!</p> + +<p>“Tell me about it, Little Disappointment,” Aunt Hope said at length. +And Glory told her story penitently.</p> + +<p>“But I think it will come out all right, auntie, truly,” she ended. +“I shall get them again to-morrow morning. Mr. Blodgett said +he'd telegraph to have the Crosspatch Conduc—I mean the +<em>conductor</em>—bring them with him to-morrow. It isn't likely anybody +would steal a school satchel of books!” The bright voice ran on, +quite gay and untroubled again. But Aunt Hope put up her hand and +felt about for the laughing lips, to hush them. It had grown dark in +the room.</p> + +<p>“Glory, I am going to tell you a story,” Aunt Hope said quietly. “You +are to sit a little closer to me and listen like a good little girl. +Don't speak, dear.”</p> + +<p>“I won't, auntie.”</p> + +<p>“There was another girl once,” began Aunt Hope's gentle voice. “She +had two things she loved especially—an Ambition and a Brother. She +spelled them both with capitals, they were so dear to her. Sometimes +she told herself she hardly knew which one she loved the better. But +there came a time when she must choose between them, and then she +knew. Of course it was the Brother. She put the Ambition away on a +high shelf where she could not go to it too often and cry over it. +‘Stay there awhile,’ she said. ‘Some day I shall come and take you +down and live with you again. Just now I must take care of my +Brother.’</p> + +<p>“For the girl and her Brother were all alone in the world, and she +was the older. He was a little thing, and she was all the mother he +had. For fifteen years she took care of him, and then one day she +found time to take the Ambition down from the high shelf—she had not +had time before. She took it down and clasped it in the old way to +her breast. ‘Oh, ho!’ she laughed—she was so glad!—‘Oh, <em>now</em> I +have time for you! You and I will never part again.’ And she was as +happy as a little child over a lost treasure. It did not seem to +dismay her because she was not a girl any longer. Women could have +Ambitions, she said. And what did she do but get out her study books +and wipe off the dust of years! It lay on them discouragingly thick +and white, but she laughed in its face.</p> + +<p>“That was because she did not know. Sometimes it is better not to +know. Do you think it would have been kind to let her know on that +first sweet day? At any rate she never lost that day. She had it with +her always afterward—the one beautiful, long day she and her +Ambition spent together again, after she took it down from the shelf. +They spent it all among the dusted books.</p> + +<p>“The next day there was a terrible accident, and when it was over and +this other girl, who had grown to a woman, was lying in a dark room +that somehow seemed to be full of a dull pain, she heard her Brother +and a doctor talking outside. She heard every word. Then she knew +what was coming to her. She could tell what to expect.</p> + +<p>“Well, she put the Ambition back, away back in her heart, and it has +been there ever since. She lets it come to the front sometimes—but +only once in a very great while.”</p> + +<p>The quiet voice ceased speaking, and Glory, with a little stifled +sob, hid her face in the pillows. She understood.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I forgot something in the story,” Aunt Hope went on presently, +her cheek against Glory's hair. “I forgot the best part! The Brother +took care of the girl after that. He was the mother then. Even after +he had a home of his own and a little baby, it was just the same. But +he had to go away for years at a time, and the baby's mother was +dead, so it came about that the girl—or rather woman; she is a woman +now—had the little baby almost always to herself. It was beautiful, +beautiful, until the little mischief took it into her head to grow +up. Even then it wasn't so very bad! For, don't you see, she would +fall heir to the Ambition by and by? So the woman was always hoping. +And she hasn't quite given up hoping yet.”</p> + +<p>There was silence in the big, dark room. Glory got to her feet. Her +voice trembled as she began to speak, and she hurried over the words +as if she were afraid she might cry.</p> + +<p>“I'm going down to Judy's to—to get her books. Then I'm coming home +and—and study, auntie. Good-by,” she stumbled.</p> + +<p>“Good-by, dear,” said Aunt Hope, softly.</p> + +<p>“It was hard to tell her the story like that,” she thought, half +repenting. “Glory understands things instantly, and they hurt. But +she is so precious—I had to tell it!”</p> + +<p>That night Glory's light burned a good deal later than it ever had +before, and Glory's bright head bent doggedly over Judy's books. +Glory and Aunt Hope's beloved Ambition were so close that night that +they almost touched each other. Not quite.</p> + +<p>It was dull and bleak next day, and Glory was tired. The fierce +little spark of energy seemed to have flickered out altogether.</p> + +<p>“Don't say ‘good-by, dear,’—say, ‘Good-by, Disappointment,’” she +said at Aunt Hope's couch the last moment.</p> + +<p>“Good-by, <em>dear</em>,” said Aunt Hope.</p> + +<p>The early morning train was in the little station when Glory got +there. She had just time to whisk up the steps on to the platform. +The Crosspatch Conductor swung himself up after her. Glory eyed his +empty hands with distinct disappointment.</p> + +<p>“Haven't you got my books?” she panted, out of breath with her +hurrying.</p> + +<p>“Nary a book,” the conductor said shortly. “Couldn't find 'em. Went +through the whole train. <em>Weren't</em> any books. You'll have to hang on +to 'em next time, young lady.”</p> + +<p>“I don't see how I can if I can't find 'em,” sighed the “young lady.” +She went into the car and sat down heavily. Oh, it was too bad! She +had been so sure the conductor would have them for her. She didn't +want to lose them—not now, after that story. Oh, poor auntie!</p> + +<p>There were not many early morning passengers. Among others Glory +noticed an old man and two young men with dinner pails, and old lady +without one, and a girl in a shabby jacket. She hadn't any dinner +pail in sight, anyway. She sat in the seat ahead of Glory and pored +over a book. She seemed buried—lost—in it.</p> + +<p>Glory sat on the edge of her seat with her elbow on the window-sill +and her chin in her hand. Her glance wandered gloomily around the car +and came to rest at last on the open page of the Other Girl's book.</p> + +<p>What—<em>What!</em> Glory leaned forward and gazed intently at the +open page. On the margins were words scrawled carelessly +in—her—handwriting! The odd, perked-up letters were unmistakable. +Who else ever wrote like that? Who ever made M's and capital S's like +that?</p> + +<p>Glory got suddenly to her feet. That was her book the Other Girl was +poring over—<em>hers!</em></p> + + +<h3><a name="gIII">Chapter III.</a></h3> + + +<p>“I'll trouble you for my book,” a clear, stiff voice said.</p> + +<p>The Other Girl came to her senses abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Oh! Why!” she stammered, her lean little face flooding crimson. “Oh, +is it you? Oh, I didn't know we'd got to Douglas—oh, wait, please +wait! Please let me explain.” She kept tight hold of the book and +faced Glory pluckily. “You must <em>let</em> me explain. Maybe you think I +can't, but I can. I'm not a thief!”</p> + +<p>“I don't care for any explanation, but I'd thank you for my books,” +Glory said loftily. “I suppose you've got the rest, too. They were +all together.”</p> + +<p>“I have them all,” the Other Girl returned quietly. The crimson in +her cheeks had faded to a faint pink. She gazed up at Glory with +steady eyes.</p> + +<p>“But I cannot give them up till you let me explain,” she persisted. +“You've <em>got</em> to let me. Do you suppose I'm going to let you go away +with my good name as though I would steal your books? They were lying +on the seat—I saw you had forgotten them—I took care of them for +you—I was going to give them back to you this morning, but I got +interested in doing that sum and didn't know we'd got to Douglas yet. +There!”</p> + +<p>She sprang to her feet and forced the books into Glory's hands, her +own fingers quivering as she did it. Suddenly Glory forgot her +heroics and began to laugh.</p> + +<p>“I never got interested in doing a sum,” she cried. “I wish you'd +tell me how you do it.”</p> + +<p>The laugh was infectious. The Other Girl laughed too. Unconsciously +she moved along on her seat and as unconsciously Glory sat down.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it's so easy to be interested!” breathed the Other Girl eagerly. +Her eyes shone with enthusiasm. “You just have to open the book.”</p> + +<p>“I've opened a book a good many times and never got interested. Never +was—never am—never shall be interested.”</p> + +<p>The Other Girl laid her rough red fingers on the books.</p> + +<p>“Don't!” she said, gently. “It sort of—hurts to hear anyone talk +that way. It all means so much to me. I had just begun history +when—” She caught herself up abruptly, but Glory was curious. Was +there ever a stranger “find” than this?—a girl in a shabby coat, +with rough, red hands, who liked history!</p> + +<p>“Yes, you had just begun when—”</p> + +<p>“When I had to stop,” went on the Other Girl, quietly. “I think I +felt sorriest about the history, though it broke my heart to give up +Latin. I don't know what you'll think, but I translated six lines in +your Cicero last night. I did—I couldn't help it. I haven't the +least idea I got them right, but I translated them.”</p> + +<p>Decidedly this was interesting. Couldn't help translating Cicero! +Glory gasped with astonishment. She faced squarely about and gazed at +her shabby little neighbor.</p> + +<p>“Where do you go to school?” she demanded. Wherever it was, she was +thinking that was the school Aunt Hope would like her to go to.</p> + +<p>“At the East Centre Town rubber factory,” the Other Girl smiled +wistfully. “And oh, dear! that makes me think—can you smell rubber?”</p> + +<p>Glory sniffed inquiringly. She certainly could detect a whiff of it +somewhere. “Yes—yes, I think I do,” she said.</p> + +<p>“Then I'm going ahead. It's me,” the Other Girl cried sharply. “I +ought to have remembered. <em>I</em> wouldn't enjoy sitting beside a rubber +factory if I was somebody else—if I was you. I forgot—I'm sorry.”</p> + +<p>She stood up and tried to pass out into the aisle in front of Glory, +but Glory would not let her.</p> + +<p>“Sit down, please—<em>please</em>. I don't smell it now, and anyway I like +it. It's a variety. I'm tired of the perfume of white violets! If you +don't mind, I wish you'd tell me some more about when you had +to—stop, you know. I suppose you mean stop going to school, don't +you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. It was when my father was killed in an accident. I had to stop +then. There's only mother and me and ‘Tiny Tim.’ I went to work in +the rubber factory—it was six months ago. I had just begun getting +really into study, you know.”</p> + +<p>The quiet voice was unsteady with intense wistfulness. The Other +Girl's eyes were gazing out of the car window as if they saw lost +opportunities and yearned over them. Glory could not see the longing +in them until they turned suddenly toward her and she caught a +wondering glimpse of it.</p> + +<p>“We had never had much, you see, but after father was killed—after +that there was only mother and me, and mother is sick. So of course I +had to stop going to school. I should like to have had enough so I +could teach instead of working in a factory—”</p> + +<p>This much said, the Other Girl shrank into herself as if into a +little shabby shell. The distance between the two girls seemed +abruptly to have widened. All at once Glory's hands were delicately +gloved and the Other Girl's bare and red; Glory's dress trim and +beautiful, and the Other Girl's faded and worn; Glory's jacket +buttons rich and handsome, the Other Girl's top button split. It +seemed all to have happened in a moment when the Other Girl woke up. +How could she have forgotten herself so and talked like that!</p> + +<p>“I wish—if you'd just as lief—you'd go back to your seat now,” she +said. “I—I never talked like that before to a stranger, and I ain't +like you, you know. I've explained about the books. I studied them +last night, but I don't think I hurt them any.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you did them good,” laughed Glory, brightly. “I expect to +find an inspiration between the pages—why, actually, I feel a little +bit (oh, a very little) of interest already in history. How delighted +Aunt Hope would feel if she knew!—No, I'm not going back to my seat. +Why, here's Centre Town! Did you ever see such a short ride! I've got +to get off here, and I wish I hadn't—oh, dear! Good-by.”</p> + +<p>Out on the platform Glory waved her books at the girlish face in the +car window. The friendly little act sent the Other Girl on to the +East Centre Town rubber factory with a warm spot in her heart.</p> + +<p>“She's splendid, Diantha Leavitt, but don't you go to presuming on +that wave!” she said to herself, severely. “This minute I believe +you're presuming! You're looking ahead to seeing her again to-night +when you go home, and getting another wave—it's just like you. I +know you! A little thing like that turns your head round on your +shoulders!”</p> + +<p>A little thing! Was it a little thing to have beautiful, breezy Glory +wave her books at you? To have her nod and smile up at your window?</p> + +<p>All day long the Other Girl smiled over her petty, distasteful work, +and Glory's face crept in between her tasks and nodded at her in +friendly fashion. She watched for it breathlessly at night, when the +train stopped at Centre Town. And it was there on the platform; it +came smiling into the car and stopped at her seat! By the time Little +Douglas was reached the two girls were friends.</p> + +<p>“Auntie,” Glory cried, dropping down by her aunt, “would you believe +you could get to love anybody in two three-quarters of an hour? Well, +I did to-day.” And then she told her aunt of the girl in the sailor +hat. “Her clothes were shabby—oh, terribly shabby. I thought her +dreadful at first, till I found out—now I love her. You would, too.”</p> + +<p>“And who is she really? What is her name?”</p> + +<p>“I don't know her name! Think of it, auntie, I love her and may be +her name's Martha Jane! <em>I</em> don't know. But I don't care—I shall +keep right on liking her. And so will you, because she studies +history because she likes it. <em>Likes</em> it! Says she'd rather study it +than not! It's a fact.”</p> + +<p>“I love her!” exclaimed Aunt Hope, fervently, and then they both +laughed. And Glory told all that she knew about the Other Girl. Aunt +Hope smoothed Glory's hair. It was the way she did when she approved +of things.</p> + +<p>“I like your new friend. I'm glad you left the books in the car,” she +said. “But there's more to the sad little story. It's to be +continued, Glory. You must find out the other chapters. There will be +plenty of time if you go back and forth together. And, dear, if you +sit beside her in the car perhaps you will learn to love books, too.”</p> + +<p>“Never!” Glory laughed. “It isn't the age for miracles, auntie. The +most you can hope for is that I'll learn to <em>study</em>. That's bad +enough!”</p> + +<p>“Well, kiss me, Little Disappointment, and run away. I wrote your +father to-day, and what do you think I told him?”</p> + +<p>“That I was a very good girl and he was to send on that ring right +off; that you were actually worried about me, I was studying so hard; +that—”</p> + +<p>“That you were a dear girl,” Aunt Hope laughed softly. “Now off with +you!”</p> + +<p>In the middle of the night Glory woke out of a dream that she was at +the tip-top head of the geometry class, and in Latin the wonder of +Centre Town Seminary for Young Ladies. The moonlight was streaming in +on her face and found it laughing at the absurdity of the dream.</p> + +<p>“The dream belongs to the Other Girl, not me. She's the one that +ought to have the chances, too. I wish I could help her—why!” Glory +sat up in bed, wide awake. Something had occurred to her.</p> + +<p>“Why, of course. Why didn't I think of it before!” she said aloud. +“I'll ask Aunt Hope—no, I'll <em>do</em> it.” And then she tumbled back +into the pillows to think out her plan. If the Other Girl could have +known!</p> + + +<h3><a name="gIV">Chapter IV.</a></h3> + + +<p>Two things prevented the immediate divulging of Glory's plan. She +chafed at them both impatiently. On the way to the train the next +morning Judy Wells waylaid her. That was one.</p> + +<p>“I'm going, too,” Judy announced cheerfully. “Of course you're +delighted—I knew you would be! You see, I was taken violently +homesick for the old Seminary, so I thought I'd run along with you +and spend the day. I tried to work up a little enthusiasm in the +other girls, but it was no use.”</p> + +<p>At any other time Glory would have been delighted enough at Judy's +lively company, but to-day she wanted to propose her new plan to the +Other Girl in the threadbare clothes. Judy would be dreadfully in her +way about doing that. She would have to put it off a day. Glory never +liked to put things off.</p> + +<p>The other thing that interfered was the tiny boy she found sitting +beside the Other Girl when she got on the train. He was almost too +small to interfere with anything! Such a bit of a creature, in +trousers almost too short to deserve the name! And beside him was +tilted a tiny crutch that instantly suggested Tiny Tim to +Dickens-loving Glory. Then she remembered that the Other Girl had +spoken of a “Tiny Tim” the day before. So the Other Girl must have +read Dickens, too.</p> + +<p>“Here's a good seat,” Judy said, dropping into the one just ahead of +the two shabby figures.</p> + +<p>Glory nodded cordially as she passed them, but how could she do any +more? She could not introduce Judy when she didn't know the Other +Girl's name herself! And, besides—well, Judy was not the—the kind +to introduce to her. Instinctively Glory recognized that.</p> + +<p>In between Judy's gay chatter, bits of child-talk crept to Glory's +ears from behind, with now and then a quiet word from the Other Girl. +She found herself listening to that with distinctly more interest +than to Judy.</p> + +<p>“No let's play it, Di,” the child-voice piped eagerly, and there was +a little clatter of the tiny crutch as it was tucked away out of +sight under the seat.</p> + +<p>“Can't see it now, can you?”</p> + +<p>“Not a splinter of it, Timmie.”</p> + +<p>“I guess not! An' you wouldn't ever s'pose anybody was lame, would +you? Not <em>me!</em>”</p> + +<p>“<em>You!</em> The idea, Timmie!”</p> + +<p>The child-voice broke into delighted laughter.</p> + +<p>“Well, then let's begin. Play I'm very big, Di—oh, 'normous! You +playin' that? An' play both my legs are twins—of course you must +play that. An' that I could run down this car if I wanted to, +faster'n—oh, faster'n ever was! Just lickety-split, you know! You +playin' it?”</p> + +<p>Glory could not hear the low reply, but the child-voice was clear +enough.</p> + +<p>“Now s'posin' that man 'cross the car got up an' came back here—play +he did—an' said up real loud, ‘See here, boy, you 'mind me of when I +was young. <em>I</em> was big an' straight an' had twin legs, too!’ Oh, my! +s'posin' that, Di! <em>Play it!</em> You playin' it?”</p> + +<p>The Other Girl's voice rang out, sharp with wistfulness.</p> + +<p>Glory's eyes filled suddenly with tears. It must be such a hard play +to play with Tiny Tim!</p> + +<p>“Play I wear ve-ry big boots an' my mother has a dreadful time +keepin' my pants up with my legs. ‘Oh, how that boy does grow!’ she +keeps a-sighin' an' a-sighin', while she's lettin' 'em down. Play +once she <em>cried</em>, he grew so fast!—Diantha Leavitt, you're lookin' +right straight out the window! I don't believe you're playin' at all, +one speck. I'm goin' to get my crutch an' be lame again, so there!”</p> + +<p>“Mercy! what are we sitting here in the sun for!” Judy suddenly +exclaimed. “I say we go over there on the shady side. It'll burn us +all up.”</p> + +<p>“Let it,” said Glory. “I like it. But go over there, dear. I'll stay +here and get a nice pinky-brown! Good-by till Centre Town.”</p> + +<p>She was glad when Judy was gone. In an instant she had wheeled about +toward the two behind her, nodding at the tiny boy in a friendly way.</p> + +<p>“Is that your little brother?” she asked of the Other Girl.</p> + +<p>Tiny Tim answered for himself.</p> + +<p>“I'm her little brother now, but I <em>was</em> big a little speck of a +while ago. Di went an' stopped playin',” he said in an aggrieved +tone. The Other Girl laughed tenderly.</p> + +<p>“He's the greatest boy for ‘playin' things,’ aren't you, Timmie? Yes, +he's my brother. I bring him with me once in a great while for a +change. He likes the ride on the cars and he takes care of himself +beautifully while I'm at work. Then at nooning we play picnic, don't +we, Timmie?”</p> + +<p>There was no time for further talk then.</p> + +<p>When the return trip came, Judy filled all the home ride with her +lively spirits. So it was not until the next morning that Glory found +her opportunity to broach her new idea to the Other Girl. She came +breezily into the car and sat down beside the quiet figure with a +sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>“I'm glad my friend Judy isn't homesick for the Seminary to-day, as +she was yesterday,” she laughed. “And I'm a <em>little</em> glad you didn't +bring your brother. You see, there's something I want to talk about, +and, if you don't mind, I'll begin this minute.”</p> + +<p>Mind!—the Other Girl mind how soon this dainty, beautiful girl +“began”! She stole an admiring look at the natty costume and upward +into the bright, sweet face. But what was this that her companion was +saying? A gasp of astonishment came to her as she sensed the words +that were being spoken rapidly.</p> + +<p>“I thought it all out in bed, night before last. Oh, I hope you'll +like it! <em>I</em> think it's a lovely plan. You see, we'll have two +three-quarters—an hour and a half a day. We can study together going +down, and coming back I'll tell you all I learned in my +classes—don't you see? You don't speak. I'm afraid you don't like +it.”</p> + +<p>“Like it?—oh, if it's what I think! If it's—<em>that!</em> But I'm afraid +I don't quite understand. I don't <em>dare</em> to understand!”</p> + +<p>Glory clapped her hands gayly.</p> + +<p>“It's plain as a b c,” she said. “You long to go to school and +can't—I <em>don't</em> long to and can! Now here's my idea that I evolved +with my thinking-cap—I mean <em>night</em>-cap—on! Let's go to school +together. We can pore over the horrid old books on the train, +mornings and nights, and I can try and remember all the teachers tell +me at the Seminary during the day. Aunt Hope will be overjoyed to +have me try to remember anything! And, don't you see, anybody who +worships history and can't let a Latin book alone, could keep up easy +enough with a dull thing like me.”</p> + +<p>Glory paused for breath. She was still laughing with her eyes. But at +sight of the radiance in the lean, brown face of the Other Girl, she +sobered in sudden awe. To be as glad as that for a chance to learn!</p> + +<p>“You understand all right now, don't you?” Glory said gently, and her +gloved fingers stole across to the Other Girl's uncovered ones and +rested on them reassuringly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, now I dare to—but oh, it takes my breath away!” the Other Girl +cried. “It's such a beautiful, beautiful thing for you to do! Do you +think I don't know that? Do you think I won't do my very best? Why, I +can study in the rubber factory, too! I mean I can carry the geometry +propositions in my head—I know I should remember every line and +every letter—and work them out noontimes and in all the betweens.”</p> + +<p>“You needn't do that,” Glory said, “you could copy the lesson off on +a piece of paper—no, I'll tell you! I'll get Judy's books for you. +Oh, there are plenty of ways to manage. Now let's begin. There's time +left to make a start, anyway.”</p> + +<p>“Wait,” the Other Girl said quickly, “I hate to waste a minute, but +I've got to say something. I want you to know what it may mean if you +do this for me. It may mean luxuries for my sick mother and—a chance +for my little ‘Tiny Tim.’ Do you know, my teachers said if I could +only keep on I might get a place to teach. Think of it! Do you know, +some doctors told mother once that there was a little chance of +straightening Timmie's bad leg, if we had the money. Oh, do you know +this <em>may</em> mean things like that! Do you think I'm not thankful to +you?”</p> + +<p>The impetuous words flowed out in a hurried stream, and the eyes of +the Other Girl, as they looked into Glory's, shone through a dazzle +of happy tears. For a moment after the eager voice ceased neither +girl made a sound. Then it was Glory who spoke.</p> + +<p>“Why!” she cried with a long breath, “Why, I didn't know it could +mean anything like that! I thought it would just mean getting a +little learning. I didn't know there were things like that at the +other end of it.”</p> + +<p>Glory had lived a little less than sixteen years, but they had been +“different” from the years the Other Girl had lived. Aunt Hope had +been all the suffering she had ever seen—Aunt Hope, smiling and +brave, on her silken pillows. Until that sad little story the other +night, she had scarcely connected anything sorrowful or hard to bear +with Aunt Hope.</p> + +<p>The beautiful autumn weeks multiplied to months, and Glory's plan +prospered thriftily. The lessons went on steadily through the morning +and afternoon rides. The Other Girl's face was set toward a possible, +splendid time to come; Glory's was set toward patience and +gentleness. For it was not always easy to give up the hour and a half +each day to the distasteful work that she so cordially hated. At +first, I mean; strangely enough, after a while things changed. Glory +woke up one day to find herself keenly interested in a knotty +problem. She could hardly wait to get her head beside the Other +Girl's, to see if together they could not solve it.</p> + +<p>“Think of it, auntie! Is it me, or am I somebody else?” she laughed, +hurrying in to kiss Aunt Hope good-by. “Think of <em>me</em> in a hurry to +get an answer to a problem!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it's you, dear. It's Glory Glorified!” laughed back the sweet +voice. Then she drew the girl's bright head down beside her. “It's +gone, dear. The Ambition out of my heart. It's passed to somebody +else—to you, I think, Glory—yes, I'm confident! You've got it this +minute!”</p> + +<p>And Glory understood. She went away wondering if it could be true +that she, Gloria Wetherell, had a real ambition in life.</p> + +<p>“Auntie hasn't called me Disappointment for a long time,” she mused +happily, as she sped down the frosty street with the nip of keen air +on her cheeks and the tonic of it in her lungs. Her mind hurried back +to the knotty problem. She and the Other Girl were still at work on +it that night, coming home. It happened that it had not been taken up +in the recitation that day.</p> + +<p>“It looks so easy and it isn't,” sighed Glory.</p> + +<p>“But we're bound to solve it,” the Other Girl cried. The two heads +were close together, and the Crosspatch Conductor smiled as he passed +them. He had been watching them with a good deal of interest for a +long time. This time he turned and came back.</p> + +<p>“Tough one, eh?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Awfully!” laughed Glory.</p> + +<p>“But we're going to get it,” smiled the Other Girl, going back to the +front. The Crosspatch Conductor stood regarding Glory gravely.</p> + +<p>“Helping her along, eh?”</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Glory, “she's helping me.”</p> + +<p>Another wrestle with the problem, and still another—then an exciting +moment when victory seemed in sight. Closer drew the brown +heads—more earnest grew the eager voices. “We've got it!”</p> + +<p>“Goody!” cried Glory. “Just in time, too, for here we are at—”</p> + +<p>Her face sobered. She got to her feet in a sudden panic. What was +this strange little place they were drawing into? Those woods, the +houses and the trees—they were not Little Douglas.</p> + +<p>“I've been carried by!” gasped Glory. “I wasn't noticing. There isn't +any other train back to-night—I tell you I've been <em>carried by</em>. +This isn't my home!”</p> + + +<h3><a name="gV">Chapter V.</a></h3> + + +<p>As Glory stood on the desolate little platform, realizing that she +had been carried by her own station, she presented a picture of +dismay. For an instant the Other Girl stood regarding her with +indecision. Then with a slight flush she stepped to Glory's side, +and, placing her hand on her arm, said:</p> + +<p>“You have been carried by your home, but you have not been taken by +mine. Come with me; you will not mind much.” There was a shy pleading +in the Other Girl's tone. On the instant of offering hospitality to +this dainty new friend, and acute perception of the barrenness of it +overswept and dismayed her. In a flash she saw the patch on the seat +of Tim's trousers, and instantly an array of mismatched cups, nicked +plates and cracked pitchers, passed before her vision. Had the dainty +Glory in all her life eaten from a nicked plate?</p> + +<p>But instantly she rallied and was her own sweet self.</p> + +<p>“It is only a little way. We will try to make you comfortable,” the +Other Girl said hurriedly. Her thoughts seemed to have occupied a +long time, and she feared her invitation might have seemed lacking in +cordiality. Glory scanned her face, then said:</p> + +<p>“There isn't any train back to-night—not one. I <em>can't</em> go back. If +you are sure it will not be a trouble— But what will Aunt Hope do? +She will be so worried!”</p> + +<p>The train was wriggling into motion, and Glory caught sight of the +Crosspatch Conductor on one end of the platform. She ran toward him +wrathfully.</p> + +<p>“Goodness! You <em>here?</em>” he cried.</p> + +<p>“You carried me by!” Glory cried. “I don't think it was very nice in +you!” Then she laughed at the honest dismay in his grim face. The +train was under way and she had to raise her voice to call after him. +“Never mind! I'm going with my friend. I'll—forgive—you!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I'm glad you said that!” the Other Girl exclaimed earnestly. +“I'm glad you said ‘my friend.’ Come, it's this way, just around one +corner.”</p> + +<p>But Glory hesitated. “Is there any chance anywhere to telephone?” she +asked. “I've <em>got</em> to send word to auntie. She would worry all night +long, I know she would. I never stayed away from her but once before, +and that time I telephoned. There's a wire in our house, you know.”</p> + +<p>The Other Girl reflected. “There's one at the store,” she said, “but +it's quite a walk. I don't mind it myself. I love to walk. But you—”</p> + +<p>“But I do, too!” Glory laughed, tucking her hand through the shabby +jacket sleeve in the friendliest way. “And if I didn't, do you +suppose it would matter? I'd walk to a telephone that had Aunt Hope +at the other end of it, if I had to go on one foot!”</p> + +<p>“Like Tiny Tim,” the Other Girl smiled gently. “But Timmy can walk as +fast as anybody. He makes that little crutch of his do almost +anything but skip.”</p> + +<p>“Skip! Oh, how I used to skip when I was little! I can remember it as +plain!”</p> + +<p>“I don't believe I ever was young. At any rate, I never skipped,” +added the Other Girl thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“Never skipped! Then it's time you did. It's never to late to—skip. +Come on, I'll show you how.”</p> + +<p>Gayly they went skipping down the stretch of snowy roadway, with +their arms around each other. The crisp air reddened the tips of +their ears and patted their backs approvingly. For once, at any rate, +the Other Girl was young.</p> + +<p>At the “store,” Glory telephoned to Aunt Hope. It was quite a while +before she could make connections with the private wire, but she +waited patiently.</p> + +<p>“Hello!” she called, her voice unnecessarily high-pitched. “I'm Glory. +Is this you, James? Well, tell auntie I got carried by—<em>carried by!</em> +What? Yes, I'm all safe. I'm with my fr— Why, auntie, that's you! I +hear your voice! You ought not to have walked out into the hall! Yes, +I'm just as ‘all right’ as I can be. I'm going home with Diantha. +What? Oh, yes, I knew you'd feel safe about me, then. I sha'n't tell +Diantha. It would puff her up! Yes, I wore my rubbers. Yes, I've got +my muffler. No, my cold's better. Take care of yourself, auntie; +good-by. Oh, no, wait! You still there, auntie? Well, the reason I +got carried by was because I was so buried up in a problem. Isn't +that funny for Glory? Good-by.”</p> + +<p>Tiny Tim met them at the door of a little brown house near the +station. His eyes widened with astonishment at sight of Glory. Then +his glance traveled to his sister in evident uneasiness.</p> + +<p>“My!” he ejaculated slowly, “I've e't up the last cooky!”</p> + +<p>Glory laughed out merrily. “Oh, I'm so glad!” she said, “for I don't +like cookies unless there's a hole in them.”</p> + +<p>“These had holes. I've e't up the last hole, too.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dreadful! But I'll tell you what, Timmie—if you'll let me come +in and stay all night, I'll promise not to eat anything but a slice +of bread and butter. We could cut a hole in that and play it was a +cook—”</p> + +<p>“The bread's gone, too. I've e't up—”</p> + +<p>“Timothy Leavitt, are you going to let us in?” laughed his sister, +though there were two red spots blooming in her cheeks. What would +Timmie say next! She led the way through the tiny hall into a big, +bright room whose centerpiece was a frail, smiling little woman with +a lapful of calico bits. She held out both her hands to Glory.</p> + +<p>“Don't tell me who she is, Diantha. As if I didn't know! My dear, my +dear, I am very glad you have come. I have hoped you would, ever +since your path crossed Di's, and—”</p> + +<p>“Glorified it, mamma.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, glorified it—that is it. Take off your things, dear, and just +feel snug and at home.”</p> + +<p>And thus the little home opened its arms to dainty Glory. The welcome +extended was as gracious and as perfect a hospitality as could have +been found in the grandest home in the land. There was no luxury or +even plenty. But Glory saw instantly there was the happiness that +goes with love. It was her awakening. A new wonder filled the girl's +heart that poverty and happiness could live together like this. While +Di was busy she mused.</p> + +<p>“I thought poor people fretted and grumbled. I know I should. <em>I</em> +shouldn't be sunshiny and nice like this. And they open their doors +into their poor, bare, empty rooms and bid me welcome just as +beautifully as Aunt Hope would do to our house. It is beautiful. Just +beautiful! It's a bit of heaven right down here in this little +unpainted house.”</p> + +<p>Diantha put on a big apron and rolled up her sleeves. “I'm going out +and make some muffins,” she smiled. “Timmie, you stay here.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Glory, “Timmie'll stay with me. Can't we play +something—we two?”</p> + +<p>“Uncrutchit!” demanded Tiny Tim eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Un—what? I don't believe I ever played that.”</p> + +<p>“No, 'course not. You ain't got any old crutch to <em>un</em>.”</p> + +<p>Glory looked helplessly at the gentle mother, who smiled back at her +quietly. But in the sweet voice, when it spoke, there was depthless +wistfulness.</p> + +<p>“Timmie means play he hasn't any crutch—that he doesn't need one, +you know,” explained the sweet voice. “‘Un-crutch-it’ is his favorite +play. He puts the crutch out of sight—”</p> + +<p>“This way,” cried Timmie, clattering the little crutch under the sofa +in hot haste. “That's uncrutching, don't you see? Now I'm uncrutched. +You play I'm very big an' tall an' my legs match. Every little while +you must look up an' say, ‘Mercy me! how that child grows!’”</p> + +<p>The little play went on until supper was ready. Then the little +crutch came out again and was put into active service.</p> + +<p>It was a strange meal to Glory. She told Aunt Hope afterward all +about it.</p> + +<p>“It was just as quiet and nice-behaved and beautiful as any supper, +only there wasn't anything to eat! Oh, auntie, you know what I mean! +You know I mean there were the muffins (they were splendid) and the +tea and dried apple sauce. I had more than I could eat. But you don't +know how I wanted to fill that pale little lady's plate with some of +our chicken and gravy and set by her plate a salad, after she'd +worked all day. And pile Tiny Timmie's plate tumble-high with +goodies! It made me ashamed to think of all the beautiful suppers of +my life that I've taken without even a ‘Thank you, God.’”</p> + +<p>The two girls went to bed early and lay talking, as girls have done +since girls began. The topics of talk drifted through the different +lessons into personal subjects.</p> + +<p>“Do you know, I'm hoping!” the Other Girl burst out softly, with a +little quiver of her thin body under the quilts. “I began to last +night. I'm going to do it right from now on. Maybe it's silly, but I +am.”</p> + +<p>“Is it a riddle?” asked Glory.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don't you understand? I thought you must, because I did! I mean +I'm hoping to pass the examinations for the next grade next summer. +That's just what I'm doing, Glory Wetherell.”</p> + +<p>“Why, that's nothing! I am going to pass, too. If I get through the +seminary I am going to Smith College some day.”</p> + +<p>“And if I pass for the eighth grade I'm going to keep right on +studying for the first grade in high-school. Miss Clem says I can. I +talked with her the other night. She says she'll help. Oh, Glory, +there is no end to this road you have started me on.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad,” said Glory. “Auntie says for folks to keep on when +they're doing well enough, and not fret about the other end of the +road. One never knows what's on ahead or what may happen.”</p> + +<p>“And if I ever get to be anybody, Glory Wetherell, remember it's you +who started me.”</p> + +<p>After a while the subdued chattering ceased, and the two girls fell +asleep, Glory to dream that she and her new friend graduated together +from the Centre Town Seminary, in beautiful twin white dresses, and +that Aunt Hope was there and clapped her thin, white hands (but they +were round and pink-tinted in the dream) when she heard Glory's +valedictory.</p> + +<p>The Other Girl's dream was of longed-for luxuries for the patient +mother and legs that matched for Tiny Tim. Both dreams came to an end +in a startling way.</p> + + +<h3><a name="gVI">Chapter VI.</a></h3> + + +<p>Glory and Diantha were awakened from their rosy dreams by a sharp +voice calling, “Fire! Fire!” They started up in affright, only to +find little Timmie perched on the foot of the bed, crying +monotonously, “Fire! Fire!” and interspersing his fire-alarm with +brisk drummings of his crutch against the footboard. But though he +had alarmed the girls, he himself did not look alarmed.</p> + +<p>“Fire! Fire! Fi—”</p> + +<p>“Timothy Leavitt, where is it? Tell me quick!” his sister gasped +breathlessly.</p> + +<p>“In the kitchen. Fire! Fire! Fi—”</p> + +<p>“The kitchen? What part of it?—where?”</p> + +<p>“In the stove. <em>I</em> built it,” Timmie said in an aggrieved tone, but +his eyes were glinting with mischief sparks. “I built it hours ago, +an' you didn't get up—an' you <em>didn't</em> get up! I didn't s'pose we'd +ever have breakfast unless I wokened you up.”</p> + +<p>“You bad little boy! So you went and made us think there was a fire?”</p> + +<p>“Well, there is—I built it, so there!”</p> + +<p>Glory was still laughing periodically over their fright, when they +got to the station to take the train. She had the picture of +innocent-faced Timmie still in her mind, and the monotonous drumming +of his little crutch, between his alarms, in her ears.</p> + +<p>“‘Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!’” she sang laughingly. “Didn't the little +scamp give us a fine scare, though! But he woke us up!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, he woke us up,” answered the Other Girl, grimly.</p> + +<p>After morning recitations, the Principal of the Centre Town Seminary +had a caller in her office. It was Glory, with a pretty little air of +pleading about her. She came in, in answer to the Principal's “Come,” +and stood, a suppliant, in the doorway.</p> + +<p>“Are you busy? Ought I to go away?” she asked. “You see, I've got +quite a lot to say.”</p> + +<p>“Then say it, my dear,” the Principal smiled pleasantly. “Sit down in +that chair and begin.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then—oh, Miss Sweetwater, can't my friend graduate with me? I +mean, if you let me graduate—or if you <em>don't</em> let me—I mean can't +she graduate, anyway? She is a splendid scholar, and—and she needs +to graduate somewhere! You'll let her, won't you?”</p> + +<p>The Principal smiled. “Who is your friend, Glory?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“She's Diantha Leavitt, and she works in the rubber factory, and +studies just awfully at home, and I help her some going and coming on +the train.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, she is not one of the Seminary girls, then? She has never been +here? Dear child, how do you think she can graduate if she has never +been here to school?”</p> + +<p>Glory's eager face fell. “I didn't know but you'd let her,” she said, +slowly. “She's just as smart as can be. I'm just sure she can pass +the examinations. It would mean so much to Diantha to pass. I'm sorry +I troubled you, Miss Sweetwater—I didn't know.”</p> + +<p>But the kind-hearted Principal detained Glory and drew out the whole +wistful little story of the Other Girl. At the end, she said, “I am +glad to know of her. Such a girl must be encouraged. I will keep +mindful of her and see if I cannot help her in some way.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. I hope you can help her. She wants to do so much if she +can ever get to earning. It seems as though almost anyone could learn +if they had a mother to help, and a Tiny Tim. There's an Aunt Hope. I +can do it for her. I'm glad I've got to work. And thanks to Di, I do +not stand so bad a show of graduating—with a great deal of honor, +too. Dear old Di!”</p> + +<p>More of the late winter days snowed past, and there came, by and by, +hints of spring—faint suggestions of green in the bare, brown spots, +whiffs of spring tonic in the air and clear little bird-calls +overhead. New courage was born in Glory's heart and the Other Girl's, +and both studied harder and harder with each day that went by. The +Crosspatch Conductor took note of the two brown heads bent over the +book and wondered behind his grim mask.</p> + +<p>“What is it, anyhow?” he asked one day, late in the spring, stopping +before them in the aisle.</p> + +<p>The two pairs of eyes met his laughingly. “Oh—things. Splendid +things!” Glory said. “Certificates and diplomas some day, and sick +folks with glad faces, and little boys with twin legs! Isn't that +enough to ‘pay’?”</p> + +<p>“Umph!” the Crosspatch Conductor muttered in his beard, and strode on +down the aisle. But he beckoned Glory aside that night on the home +trip and questioned her about the Other Girl. Glory told him the +whole story in a few hurried words.</p> + +<p>“That's why she's studying so hard,” she wound up, out of breath. +“She wants to get it all and some day be a teacher.”</p> + +<p>“And you're helping her,” the Crosspatch Conductor said, gruffly.</p> + +<p>“Mercy, no! She's helping me. That's why <em>I'm</em> studying so hard! I +don't see what you mean—oh! In the very beginning, you mean? <em>That?</em> +I'd forgotten there ever was a time when I helped her. I s'pose I +might have a little, at first.”</p> + +<p>The conductor put his big hand on Glory's shoulder with a touch as +light and caressing as that of a woman.</p> + +<p>“You're the right kind, both o' you,” he said. “It never comes amiss +to help anybody. I've half a mind to try a little of it myself. See +here, don't you tell her and go to raising hopes, but it kind of +seems to me as though I knew a place where she could teach right +away. I know a boy who hasn't any mother that wants to learn things. +She'd make a pretty good sort of a teacher for a little feller who +can never go outdoors and get the sunshine, and all that, now +wouldn't she?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, are you sure there is such a boy? Can you get him for Diantha? +Would it pay her money—lots of it?”</p> + +<p>“Easy! Easy! Don't go too fast. It wouldn't pay her a fortune, 'cause +fortunes ain't found like hazel nuts, growing on bushes. But it ought +to pay her pretty tolerable. I'm sure enough about the boy;” and a +sad look came into the conductor's eyes. “He hasn't any mother, you +see, and it's pretty hard for the little chap.”</p> + +<p>“Is he your boy?” asked Glory, putting her little hand on the +conductor's sleeve and looking sympathetically up into the grave +eyes.</p> + +<p>The conductor nodded. “He's mine, and his grandmother says he ought +to be learning things—poor Dan! That girl over there wouldn't be a +very bad one to help him get hold, now would she?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! Oh! Oh! What will she say? Why, if I had a little boy and he +couldn't go out into the sunshine, and he wanted to learn, I'd rather +have Diantha's little finger to help him with than the whole of some +folks. You don't know Di.”</p> + +<p>The conductor laughed. “I guess I haven't been watching you two this +winter without finding out something,” he said, his eyes holding a +twinkle. Then the old, gruff manner came back to him and he added +brusquely, “But there, don't you go to countin' the chickens before +they're hatched. I'll have to talk with grandma first; maybe she'd +rather have a sort of circumspect person.”</p> + +<p>“But your Danny wouldn't—you said his name was Dan,” said Glory, her +face one sea of dimples, and her eyes like diamonds. “'Most seems as +if a little boy who couldn't go out in the sunshine ought to have the +one he'd like best with him. He wouldn't care much for a—a +circumspect person, would he?” asked Glory, a merry twinkle in her +eyes.</p> + +<p>“There now, you go along!” said the conductor, laughing in spite of +himself.</p> + +<p>But Glory did not “go along” until she had caught the big hand and +squeezed it between her soft little palms as it was extended to help +her down to the Douglas platform.</p> + +<p>That night Glory could hardly wait to get to Aunt Hope.</p> + +<p>“Oh, auntie, won't it be splendid if she gets that place!” she cried +when she had unfolded the beautiful plan at which the conductor had +hinted.</p> + +<p>“But you mustn't set your heart on it, Glory. The grandmother may not +think that so young a girl will do for the boy.”</p> + +<p>“She will when she sees Diantha, auntie—I am just sure of it. Di is +so strong and helpful, and so cheery, and so full of courage, and +never thinks of herself, but always of others.”</p> + +<p>“Well, dear, we will leave it in the good Father's hands, and just +ask him to bring it out in the way that is best for all.”</p> + +<hr> + +<p>June and all its glory was touching the world, and the sweet air, +full of the perfume of rose and honeysuckle, crept in and fanned two +faces close together on the sofa pillows.</p> + +<p>“Auntie, you haven't called me ‘Little Disappointment’ this ever so +long,” Glory said suddenly after a long silence. “Is it a good sign? +I thought—well—maybe it was.”</p> + +<p>“Dear child!” Aunt Hope's arms were round Glory, holding her in their +feeble, loving clasp. “Dear child, did I ever call you that? Are you +sure? Well, I shall never do it again, dear, as long as we twain +shall live! Do you want a new name, Glory?”</p> + +<p>“Yes'm, please,” murmured the girl.</p> + +<p>“Then you are my Little Ambition, and God bless you, dear!”</p> + +<p>After that it was still again, and the cool darkness wrapped them in +softly. They could hear the solemn tick-tock of the clock across the +room. It was the same clock that used to say reproachful things to +Glory when she was a little child and had been naughty. Once she had +climbed on a chair and stopped its accusing tongue, because she could +not bear it any longer. It was talking to Glory now, and she could +not make it say anything but “Dear—child! dear—child!” over and +over, solemnly. It was Aunt Hope's voice it was trying to imitate. +Glory laughed out softly, under her breath.</p> + +<p>“What is it, dear child?”</p> + +<p>“Dear—child! dear—child!” echoed the clock solemnly.</p> + +<p>“I've got to get up and stop that clock!” Glory said.</p> + +<hr> + +<p>The week before the graduating exercises at the Centre Town +Seminary, Glory had another of her “ideas,” and of course she carried +it to Aunt Hope.</p> + +<p>“Why not?” she said, when she had introduced it to her. “It would be +like one of Tiny Tim's plays. He could go, too, and help us ‘play’ +it, don't you see? I think I should enjoy graduating better if +Diantha ‘played graduate’ with me. The teacher wouldn't care if she +sat with me down on the end seat. I don't believe she ever had a +white dress in her life—a soft, thin, floaty one.”</p> + +<p>“Would you like to have hers just like yours, Glory?”</p> + +<p>“Just, auntie. She's the—the <em>friendest</em> friend I ever had,” Glory +said simply. “I'd like to have her close when I'm there getting ready +to read.”</p> + +<p>And so it came about that graduation day found the Other Girl beside +Glory, in a beautiful white dress that lay about her in soft, sheer +folds. The Other Girl's face above it was shining and rapt. This was +almost like graduating herself. On the other side of Glory sat Tiny +Tim, in the conscious pride of his best suit. There was no little +crutch in sight. Timmie had hidden it under the seat. He was playing +“Uncrutchit.”</p> + +<p>“You can't see—an'thing, can you?” he whispered anxiously to the +Other Girl, across Glory's lap.</p> + +<p>“Not a splinter of it, Timmie.”</p> + +<p>“An' you don't see where my legs don't match, do you?”</p> + +<p>“No, not a single bit.”</p> + +<p>“That's all right, then.” Timmie's brow smoothed with relief. He was +silent a moment, and then his little whispering voice again, this +time to Glory:</p> + +<p>“Say, isn't this just splendid! I'm playin', an' Di's playin'. You're +the only one that's <em>it</em>, honest true.”</p> + +<p>Another silence. Then, “Say, I'm sorry I wokened you up that time, +screamin' ‘Fire!’”</p> + +<p>Glory laughed down into the repentant little face. “I'll forgive you, +Timmie,” she whispered. And then the exercises began and the air was +full of a blast of jubilant music.</p> + +<p>When it was all over, the three went back to Little Douglas together +on the train. There was to be a bit of a banquet in Aunt Hope's room.</p> + +<p>Glory had a neat white parchment roll in her hand, and she held it +shyly, as if she had not had time to get very well acquainted with +it.</p> + +<p>“To think this is a diploma with Gloria Wetherell in Latin inside +it!” she cried.</p> + +<p>“To think this is a beautiful white dress with <em>me</em> inside!” answered +the Other Girl. “Do you know—oh, do you <em>know</em>, it doesn't smell of +rubber at all? There isn't a whiff about it; it's just sweet and +dainty and—<em>other-folksy</em>.”</p> + +<p>On the train the Crosspatch Conductor drew Glory aside a moment. His +eyes rested first on the parchment roll.</p> + +<p>“Got it, didn't you? Good! Well, I've got it too. She's +consented—grandma has. I've told her all about the other one, and +what you said, and it's going to be all right. We won't tell her yet +until we get kind of used to it ourselves, don't you see?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I'm so glad!” cried Glory, clasping her hands. “I don't believe +I ever can keep it. To think she'll leave that old rubber factory and +be in a nice, pleasant home all the time, and help her folks, and be +having some of her dreams come true. I wonder what she will say!”</p> + +<p>“I thought we'd get her over to the house and have Danny tell her. +He's a great one for setting things out.”</p> + +<p>“You're the best man I ever knew in the wide world!” said Glory. “But +I can't keep it very long—you mustn't expect me to.”</p> + +<p>The conductor laughed. “All right—all right. I'll get grandma to +write. I've got her address. One of the men down at the factory told +me a good deal about her. There are many ways of finding out about +folks when one sets about it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you'll never find out anything about Diantha but what's nice,” +said Glory. “Oh! I'm so glad!” And not a happier girl than Gloria +Wetherell could have been found in all that region.</p> + +<p>As to the Other Girl, her heart nearly burst with its weight of +happiness when she found out what was in store for her.</p> + +<p>“It's Glory's doings. She has just glorified my whole life, and +helped me to find the rainbow. And Timmie!—won't I find a rainbow +for him too, bless him! And some day his legs shall be twins, if +working can do it.”</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Glory and the Other Girl, by Annie Hamilton Donnell + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLORY AND THE OTHER GIRL *** + +***** This file should be named 27987-h.htm or 27987-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/9/8/27987/ + +Produced by Jeff Kaylin + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Glory and the Other Girl + +Author: Annie Hamilton Donnell + +Release Date: February 4, 2009 [EBook #27987] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLORY AND THE OTHER GIRL *** + + + + +Produced by Jeff Kaylin + + + + + +Glory and the Other Girl + +by + +Annie Hamilton Donnell + +DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING COMPANY + + + + +Chapter I. + + +Glory ran in the last minute to bid Aunt Hope good-by. That was +the one thing that she never forgot. + +"Good-by, auntie. I'm off, but I'm not happy. _Happy!_ I'm perfectly +mis-er-a-ble! If only I had passed last year! To think I've got to go +back to that baby seminary, and the other girls will have entered at +Glenwood! Oh, dear! I'll never be able to catch up." + +"There, dear, don't! Keep brave. Remember what a pleasant vacation +we've had, and this is such a lovely day in which to begin all over. +I wouldn't mind 'beginning over' again to-day!" + +Aunt Hope was smiling up at her from the cushions of the big couch, +but Glory's lips trembled as she stooped to gather the thin little +figure into her strong girlish arms. + +"Auntie! Auntie! If you only could!" the girl cried wistfully. "If +you could only take my place! It isn't fair that we can't take turns +being well and strong. But, there," she made a wry face to hide her +emotion, "who'd want to be poor me to-day and go back on that horrid +train to that horrid, horrid school!" + +"Glory Wetherell, I believe you're lazy!" Aunt Hope laughed. "A +Wetherell lazy! There, kiss me again, Disappointment, and run away to +your 'horrid train'!" + +But out on the landing Glory paused expectantly, taking a rapid +mental account of stock in readiness for the coming questions. +"She'll call in a minute," the girl thought tenderly, waiting for the +sweet, feeble voice. "The day auntie doesn't call me back I sha'n't +be Gloria Wetherell!" + +"Gloria!" + +"Yes'm. Here I am. I've got my books, auntie." + +"_All_, Glory?" + +"Every single one." + +"All right, dear!" came in Aunt Hope's soft voice. And Glory went on +downstairs, smiling to herself triumphantly. Such luck! When had she +been able to answer like that before? + +"Gloria!" again. + +"Yes, auntie. Oh! oh! yes, I _did_ forget my mileage book, auntie. +I'll get it this minute. But, auntie,"--Glory stopped at the foot of +the stairs. Her discomfited laugh floated upward to the pale little +invalid--"I've felt of my head and it's on. I didn't forget that! +Good-by." + +"Dear girl--my Little Disappointment!" murmured the invalid, sinking +back on her pillows, with a tender sigh. "Will she ever grow heedful? +When will she come to her own?" + +Oddly enough, at that moment Glory was saying to herself, as she +hurried down the street, "I wish she wouldn't call me her +'Disappointment' like that--dear auntie! There's any quantity of love +in it, but I don't like the sound of it. It reminds me of the trains +I've missed, and the books I've forgotten, and--oh, me!--all the +lessons I haven't learned! I wish auntie didn't care so much about +such things--_I_ don't!" + +It was a splendid September day. The sweet, sharp air kissed the +girl's fresh cheeks into blushes and sent her feet dancing along with +the very joy of locomotion. In spite of herself Glory began to be +happy. And the girls were at the station to see her off--that was an +unexpected compliment. They ran to meet her excitedly. + +"Quick, quick, Glory! We've 'held up' the train as long as we can!" +they chorused. "Didn't you know you were late, for pity's sake? And +it's the Crosspatch Conductor's day, too--we've had an awful time +coaxing him to wait! But he's a real dear, after all." + +"Give me your books--help her on, Judy! There, take 'em quick! +Good-by." + +"Our sympathies go-o with--yo-oo-ou!" + +The chorus of gay voices trailed after her, as she stood alone on the +platform. With a final wave of her book-strap she went dolefully +inside. Suddenly the September getting-off intoxication oozed out of +her finger-tips. She tumbled into the nearest seat with a sigh. It +was even worse than she had anticipated. + +"I wish the girls hadn't come down," she thought ungratefully. +"Sending their condolences after me like that! I guess I could see +the triumph in Judy Wells' face, and Georgia Kelley's, and all their +faces. They were hugging themselves for not having to go back to the +seminary. Nobody's got to but just poor me. I declare, I'm so sorry +for you, Glory Wetherell, and I think I'm going to cry!" + +The "girls," all four of them, had graduated the previous spring. +Only heedless, unstudy-loving Glory had lagged over into another +year, and must go back and forth from little Douglas to the Center +Town Seminary all by herself. Every morning and every night--the days +loomed ahead of her, not to be numbered or borne. Well, it was hard. +No more merry chattering rides, as there had been last year when the +girls were her companions. No more gay little car-feasts on the home +trips, out of the carefully hoarded remnants of their dinners. + +"I wish I'd kept up in mathematics and things!" lamented Glory, +gazing at the flying landscape with gloomy eyes. "If I'd known how +this was going to feel, I'd have done it if it killed me. Think of a +year of this! Two times three quarters of an hour is an hour and a +half. Let me see--in the three terms there'll be three times +sixty-five days. Three times sixty-five is"--Glory figured +slowly--"one hundred and ninety-five days! An hour and a half in one +day--in one hundred and ninety-five days there will be--oh, forever!" +groaned Glory. She sat and looked into the year to come with a gloomy +face. In spite of herself she multiplied one hundred and ninety-five +by one and a half. + +"That's the number of hours you're going to sit here on a car-seat, +is it?" she demanded of herself. "It's a nice prospect, isn't it? +You'll have a charming time, won't you? Aren't you glad you didn't +keep up in things?" + +It did not occur to Glory that she might employ the time in study. +Studying very rarely "occurred" to Glory, anyway. She went back and +forth from little Douglas to the Centre Town "Seminary for Young +Ladies" because of Aunt Hope. Aunt Hope wanted her to, and Aunt Hope +was a dear. She would do even that for Aunt Hope! + +The slow local train lurched on between grainfields and cattle-dotted +pastures, and the pretty, dainty little maid on the back seat sat on, +with the plaintive face of a martyr. In spite of herself the Other +Girl smiled. The Other Girl was not dainty, nor was she pretty unless +she smiled. The uptwitch of her mouth-corners and the flash of white +teeth helped out a great deal. She had never had occasion to laugh +much in her fifteen years of life, but now and then she smiled--when +she saw girls playing martyr, for instance! + +"It's funny, if she only knew it," the Other Girl thought. "There she +sits feeling abused because she has to go to school--oh, my goodness, +goodness! She feels that way, I'm certain she does! It's printed in +capitals on her face. Diantha Leavitt, do you hear?--there's a girl +back there feeling abused because she's got to go to a Young Ladies' +Seminary! If you don't believe me, turn square round and look at +her." + +The Other Girl was sitting sidewise on her seat to give her a +slanting view from under her shabby sailor of the trim little +tailor-made figure on the back seat. She had been watching it ever +since the train drew out of Douglas. She had recognized it at once as +one of the five trim, girlish figures that had got on at the same +place the previous spring. School-books and schoolgirl nonsense tell +their own story, and, besides, hadn't they always got off at Centre +Town, and wasn't there a Young Ladies' Seminary there? You could put +two and two together if you _didn't_ study arithmetic--if your name +_was_ only Diantha Leavitt and you worked in the East Centre Town +rubber factory, instead of going to school. + +The Other Girl's admiring eyes had taken in all the dainty details of +gloves, tiny chatelaine watch, and neat school satchel out of which +protruded green and brown books. With a fierce little gesture the +Other Girl had slid her own hands under her threadbare jacket. They +were reddened and rough. + +"I should like to know if she can smell rubber clear back there," she +thought. "You ought to go ahead to the front o' the car, Diantha +Leavitt. Don't you know dainty folks don't like the smell of rubber? +Oh, my goodness--goodness--goodness! I wish I could get out o' the +reach of it for one day in my life! _One day_--doesn't seem like +asking a great deal, does it?" + +She straightened and turned her back to the dainty girl of luxury on +the rear seat. She would not look again. But straight ahead, on the +very front of the car, her gloomy, roaming gaze was stayed. What was +this she saw? The pretty, plaintive face of the schoolgirl, in the +mirror! She could not get away from it. The two pairs of blue eyes +seemed to be looking directly into each other, but the Other Girl's +were full of angry tears. The Other Girl sat up, straight and +defiant, and stared ahead unswervingly. Mentally she was taking a +scornful inventory of her own shabbiness. + +"My feather is perfectly straight;--it rained Saturday night, and I +haven't had any time to curl it over the poker. It doesn't belong on +a sailor, anyway, but it's better than a hole right into your hair! +It covers up. My jacket collar is all fringy round the edges, and the +top button is split. My necktie has been washed four times too +often--ugh! I smell rubber!" + +Glory consulted her little chatelaine watch impatiently. + +"I hope we're 'most there!" she sighed. "If this hasn't been the +longest ride! I know one thing--I shall bring my crochet-work +to-morrow, and my tatting, and my knitting-work, and my--patchwork! +There's more than one way to 'kill' time." She smiled to herself a +little. From the cover of the tiny watch Aunt Hope's picture looked +up at her, smiling too. Glory nodded back to it. + +"Yes'm, I've got everything--I haven't forgotten a thing. And I'm +going to be good," she murmured, as she shut the sweet face out of +sight. + +The train slowed up. Glory was feeling better because of the little +draught of Sweet Face Tonic, and she was even humming a tune under +her breath when she stepped down on to the platform. She stepped +daintily along with her pretty head held up saucily and her skirts +a-flutter. It wasn't so bad, after all, once off that horrid +train--good riddance to it! Let it go fizzing and puffing away. The +farther the better-- + +Suddenly Glory stood still and gazed downward at her empty hands, +then at the fading curl of white smoke up the track. Her face was a +study of dismay. + +"Oh! oh! That horrid train has carried off my books!" she cried. + + + + +Chapter II. + + +Glory swung about on her toes and marched away to the Centre Town +ticketman, whom she knew a little. + +"Mr. Blodgett," she cried, "what do you do when you get off the train +and your books don't?" + +The pleasant old face twinkled at her out of the little window. Mr. +Blodgett's acquaintance with Glory had been enlivened by a good many +such crises as this. In his mind he had always separated her from the +other Douglas young misses as "The Fly-away One." + +"Forgot 'em, eh? Got carried off, did they? Well, that's a serious +case. You'll have to engage a counsel, but I ain't sure you'll get +your case. Looks to me as if the law was on the other--" + +"Mr. Blodgett," laughed Glory, "I don't want to get my 'case'--I want +my books! What do folks do when they leave things--umbrellas or +something--in their seats?" + +"Never left an umbrella yourself, of course?" + +"Ye-es--three," admitted Glory, "but I never _did_ anything--just let +'em go. This time it's my school-books, you see. It's different. I +don't see how I'm going to school without any books." + +"Sure enough. Well, I'll see what I can do for you, my dear. I'll +telegraph to the conductor to take 'em in charge and deliver 'em to +you at your place, in the morning. How's that?" + +"Oh, thank you, Mr. Blodgett. You're a regular dear--I mean you're +very kind." + +"Don't change it, my dear. The first is good enough for me," the old +man laughed. He was thinking what a refreshing little picture his +small window framed in. Was it like this his little girl would have +looked if she had grown into girlhood? He gazed after the Flyaway One +wistfully. + +It was still early in the morning, and Glory loitered about in the +crisp September sunshine with an hour of time to "kill." There was +but one early train to Centre Town, and that left Douglas at seven. +It had not been so bad, of course, when the other girls came, too, +but now!--Glory sighed pensively. So many things were bad now. The +sun might just as well be snuffed out like a candle and it be raining +torrents, for all the joy there was in living! + +"That was my fourth Latin lexicon," Glory exclaimed suddenly, with a +vivid vision of Aunt Hope's grieved face. "I left two out in the +rain, and lost a lot of leaves out of another, and now this one's +gone on a tour! Poor auntie! I guess she might as well keep right on +calling me Little Disappointment." + +It was an unpropitious beginning for the new term. Glory was obliged +to refuse three times to recite, on the plea of her lost books, and +double lessons loomed ahead of her dismally. But not for long--Glory +never allowed "making up" to dispirit her unduly. Studying, anyway, +was a nuisance, and the less time you let it give you the blues, the +better. If you hadn't any books you couldn't study--naturally. Then +why gloom over it a whole day? + +"Well, dear?" Aunt Hope said that night, as they sat in the twilight +together; "well, the beginning and the ending are the first day. How +has it been? You look happy enough--I can feel the corners of your +mouth, and they turn up!" The slender, cool fingers traveled over the +girl's face in their own privileged fashion. + +Glory remembered the books and drew down her lips hastily. + +"I've been naughty, auntie," she confessed softly. + +"Oh, Glory!--again?" + +"Yes'm, I'm afraid so. I'm afraid I've--lost something." + +Aunt Hope drew a long, patient breath before she spoke. Her fingers +still lingered on the smooth cheeks and then wandered slowly to the +tangle of soft hair. The little girl half hidden from her by the dusk +was so dear to her! + +"Tell me about it, Little Disappointment," Aunt Hope said at length. +And Glory told her story penitently. + +"But I think it will come out all right, auntie, truly," she ended. +"I shall get them again to-morrow morning. Mr. Blodgett said +he'd telegraph to have the Crosspatch Conduc--I mean the +_conductor_--bring them with him to-morrow. It isn't likely anybody +would steal a school satchel of books!" The bright voice ran on, +quite gay and untroubled again. But Aunt Hope put up her hand and +felt about for the laughing lips, to hush them. It had grown dark in +the room. + +"Glory, I am going to tell you a story," Aunt Hope said quietly. "You +are to sit a little closer to me and listen like a good little girl. +Don't speak, dear." + +"I won't, auntie." + +"There was another girl once," began Aunt Hope's gentle voice. "She +had two things she loved especially--an Ambition and a Brother. She +spelled them both with capitals, they were so dear to her. Sometimes +she told herself she hardly knew which one she loved the better. But +there came a time when she must choose between them, and then she +knew. Of course it was the Brother. She put the Ambition away on a +high shelf where she could not go to it too often and cry over it. +'Stay there awhile,' she said. 'Some day I shall come and take you +down and live with you again. Just now I must take care of my +Brother.' + +"For the girl and her Brother were all alone in the world, and she +was the older. He was a little thing, and she was all the mother he +had. For fifteen years she took care of him, and then one day she +found time to take the Ambition down from the high shelf--she had not +had time before. She took it down and clasped it in the old way to +her breast. 'Oh, ho!' she laughed--she was so glad!--'Oh, _now_ I +have time for you! You and I will never part again.' And she was as +happy as a little child over a lost treasure. It did not seem to +dismay her because she was not a girl any longer. Women could have +Ambitions, she said. And what did she do but get out her study books +and wipe off the dust of years! It lay on them discouragingly thick +and white, but she laughed in its face. + +"That was because she did not know. Sometimes it is better not to +know. Do you think it would have been kind to let her know on that +first sweet day? At any rate she never lost that day. She had it with +her always afterward--the one beautiful, long day she and her +Ambition spent together again, after she took it down from the shelf. +They spent it all among the dusted books. + +"The next day there was a terrible accident, and when it was over and +this other girl, who had grown to a woman, was lying in a dark room +that somehow seemed to be full of a dull pain, she heard her Brother +and a doctor talking outside. She heard every word. Then she knew +what was coming to her. She could tell what to expect. + +"Well, she put the Ambition back, away back in her heart, and it has +been there ever since. She lets it come to the front sometimes--but +only once in a very great while." + +The quiet voice ceased speaking, and Glory, with a little stifled +sob, hid her face in the pillows. She understood. + +"Oh, I forgot something in the story," Aunt Hope went on presently, +her cheek against Glory's hair. "I forgot the best part! The Brother +took care of the girl after that. He was the mother then. Even after +he had a home of his own and a little baby, it was just the same. But +he had to go away for years at a time, and the baby's mother was +dead, so it came about that the girl--or rather woman; she is a woman +now--had the little baby almost always to herself. It was beautiful, +beautiful, until the little mischief took it into her head to grow +up. Even then it wasn't so very bad! For, don't you see, she would +fall heir to the Ambition by and by? So the woman was always hoping. +And she hasn't quite given up hoping yet." + +There was silence in the big, dark room. Glory got to her feet. Her +voice trembled as she began to speak, and she hurried over the words +as if she were afraid she might cry. + +"I'm going down to Judy's to--to get her books. Then I'm coming home +and--and study, auntie. Good-by," she stumbled. + +"Good-by, dear," said Aunt Hope, softly. + +"It was hard to tell her the story like that," she thought, half +repenting. "Glory understands things instantly, and they hurt. But +she is so precious--I had to tell it!" + +That night Glory's light burned a good deal later than it ever had +before, and Glory's bright head bent doggedly over Judy's books. +Glory and Aunt Hope's beloved Ambition were so close that night that +they almost touched each other. Not quite. + +It was dull and bleak next day, and Glory was tired. The fierce +little spark of energy seemed to have flickered out altogether. + +"Don't say 'good-by, dear,'--say, 'Good-by, Disappointment,'" she +said at Aunt Hope's couch the last moment. + +"Good-by, _dear_," said Aunt Hope. + +The early morning train was in the little station when Glory got +there. She had just time to whisk up the steps on to the platform. +The Crosspatch Conductor swung himself up after her. Glory eyed his +empty hands with distinct disappointment. + +"Haven't you got my books?" she panted, out of breath with her +hurrying. + +"Nary a book," the conductor said shortly. "Couldn't find 'em. Went +through the whole train. _Weren't_ any books. You'll have to hang on +to 'em next time, young lady." + +"I don't see how I can if I can't find 'em," sighed the "young lady." +She went into the car and sat down heavily. Oh, it was too bad! She +had been so sure the conductor would have them for her. She didn't +want to lose them--not now, after that story. Oh, poor auntie! + +There were not many early morning passengers. Among others Glory +noticed an old man and two young men with dinner pails, and old lady +without one, and a girl in a shabby jacket. She hadn't any dinner +pail in sight, anyway. She sat in the seat ahead of Glory and pored +over a book. She seemed buried--lost--in it. + +Glory sat on the edge of her seat with her elbow on the window-sill +and her chin in her hand. Her glance wandered gloomily around the car +and came to rest at last on the open page of the Other Girl's book. + +What--_What!_ Glory leaned forward and gazed intently at the +open page. On the margins were words scrawled carelessly +in--her--handwriting! The odd, perked-up letters were unmistakable. +Who else ever wrote like that? Who ever made M's and capital S's like +that? + +Glory got suddenly to her feet. That was her book the Other Girl was +poring over--_hers!_ + + + + +Chapter III. + + +"I'll trouble you for my book," a clear, stiff voice said. + +The Other Girl came to her senses abruptly. + +"Oh! Why!" she stammered, her lean little face flooding crimson. "Oh, +is it you? Oh, I didn't know we'd got to Douglas--oh, wait, please +wait! Please let me explain." She kept tight hold of the book and +faced Glory pluckily. "You must _let_ me explain. Maybe you think I +can't, but I can. I'm not a thief!" + +"I don't care for any explanation, but I'd thank you for my books," +Glory said loftily. "I suppose you've got the rest, too. They were +all together." + +"I have them all," the Other Girl returned quietly. The crimson in +her cheeks had faded to a faint pink. She gazed up at Glory with +steady eyes. + +"But I cannot give them up till you let me explain," she persisted. +"You've _got_ to let me. Do you suppose I'm going to let you go away +with my good name as though I would steal your books? They were lying +on the seat--I saw you had forgotten them--I took care of them for +you--I was going to give them back to you this morning, but I got +interested in doing that sum and didn't know we'd got to Douglas yet. +There!" + +She sprang to her feet and forced the books into Glory's hands, her +own fingers quivering as she did it. Suddenly Glory forgot her +heroics and began to laugh. + +"I never got interested in doing a sum," she cried. "I wish you'd +tell me how you do it." + +The laugh was infectious. The Other Girl laughed too. Unconsciously +she moved along on her seat and as unconsciously Glory sat down. + +"Oh, it's so easy to be interested!" breathed the Other Girl eagerly. +Her eyes shone with enthusiasm. "You just have to open the book." + +"I've opened a book a good many times and never got interested. Never +was--never am--never shall be interested." + +The Other Girl laid her rough red fingers on the books. + +"Don't!" she said, gently. "It sort of--hurts to hear anyone talk +that way. It all means so much to me. I had just begun history +when--" She caught herself up abruptly, but Glory was curious. Was +there ever a stranger "find" than this?--a girl in a shabby coat, +with rough, red hands, who liked history! + +"Yes, you had just begun when--" + +"When I had to stop," went on the Other Girl, quietly. "I think I +felt sorriest about the history, though it broke my heart to give up +Latin. I don't know what you'll think, but I translated six lines in +your Cicero last night. I did--I couldn't help it. I haven't the +least idea I got them right, but I translated them." + +Decidedly this was interesting. Couldn't help translating Cicero! +Glory gasped with astonishment. She faced squarely about and gazed at +her shabby little neighbor. + +"Where do you go to school?" she demanded. Wherever it was, she was +thinking that was the school Aunt Hope would like her to go to. + +"At the East Centre Town rubber factory," the Other Girl smiled +wistfully. "And oh, dear! that makes me think--can you smell rubber?" + +Glory sniffed inquiringly. She certainly could detect a whiff of it +somewhere. "Yes--yes, I think I do," she said. + +"Then I'm going ahead. It's me," the Other Girl cried sharply. "I +ought to have remembered. _I_ wouldn't enjoy sitting beside a rubber +factory if I was somebody else--if I was you. I forgot--I'm sorry." + +She stood up and tried to pass out into the aisle in front of Glory, +but Glory would not let her. + +"Sit down, please--_please_. I don't smell it now, and anyway I like +it. It's a variety. I'm tired of the perfume of white violets! If you +don't mind, I wish you'd tell me some more about when you had +to--stop, you know. I suppose you mean stop going to school, don't +you?" + +"Yes. It was when my father was killed in an accident. I had to stop +then. There's only mother and me and 'Tiny Tim.' I went to work in +the rubber factory--it was six months ago. I had just begun getting +really into study, you know." + +The quiet voice was unsteady with intense wistfulness. The Other +Girl's eyes were gazing out of the car window as if they saw lost +opportunities and yearned over them. Glory could not see the longing +in them until they turned suddenly toward her and she caught a +wondering glimpse of it. + +"We had never had much, you see, but after father was killed--after +that there was only mother and me, and mother is sick. So of course I +had to stop going to school. I should like to have had enough so I +could teach instead of working in a factory--" + +This much said, the Other Girl shrank into herself as if into a +little shabby shell. The distance between the two girls seemed +abruptly to have widened. All at once Glory's hands were delicately +gloved and the Other Girl's bare and red; Glory's dress trim and +beautiful, and the Other Girl's faded and worn; Glory's jacket +buttons rich and handsome, the Other Girl's top button split. It +seemed all to have happened in a moment when the Other Girl woke up. +How could she have forgotten herself so and talked like that! + +"I wish--if you'd just as lief--you'd go back to your seat now," she +said. "I--I never talked like that before to a stranger, and I ain't +like you, you know. I've explained about the books. I studied them +last night, but I don't think I hurt them any." + +"I guess you did them good," laughed Glory, brightly. "I expect to +find an inspiration between the pages--why, actually, I feel a little +bit (oh, a very little) of interest already in history. How delighted +Aunt Hope would feel if she knew!--No, I'm not going back to my seat. +Why, here's Centre Town! Did you ever see such a short ride! I've got +to get off here, and I wish I hadn't--oh, dear! Good-by." + +Out on the platform Glory waved her books at the girlish face in the +car window. The friendly little act sent the Other Girl on to the +East Centre Town rubber factory with a warm spot in her heart. + +"She's splendid, Diantha Leavitt, but don't you go to presuming on +that wave!" she said to herself, severely. "This minute I believe +you're presuming! You're looking ahead to seeing her again to-night +when you go home, and getting another wave--it's just like you. I +know you! A little thing like that turns your head round on your +shoulders!" + +A little thing! Was it a little thing to have beautiful, breezy Glory +wave her books at you? To have her nod and smile up at your window? + +All day long the Other Girl smiled over her petty, distasteful work, +and Glory's face crept in between her tasks and nodded at her in +friendly fashion. She watched for it breathlessly at night, when the +train stopped at Centre Town. And it was there on the platform; it +came smiling into the car and stopped at her seat! By the time Little +Douglas was reached the two girls were friends. + +"Auntie," Glory cried, dropping down by her aunt, "would you believe +you could get to love anybody in two three-quarters of an hour? Well, +I did to-day." And then she told her aunt of the girl in the sailor +hat. "Her clothes were shabby--oh, terribly shabby. I thought her +dreadful at first, till I found out--now I love her. You would, too." + +"And who is she really? What is her name?" + +"I don't know her name! Think of it, auntie, I love her and may be +her name's Martha Jane! _I_ don't know. But I don't care--I shall +keep right on liking her. And so will you, because she studies +history because she likes it. _Likes_ it! Says she'd rather study it +than not! It's a fact." + +"I love her!" exclaimed Aunt Hope, fervently, and then they both +laughed. And Glory told all that she knew about the Other Girl. Aunt +Hope smoothed Glory's hair. It was the way she did when she approved +of things. + +"I like your new friend. I'm glad you left the books in the car," she +said. "But there's more to the sad little story. It's to be +continued, Glory. You must find out the other chapters. There will be +plenty of time if you go back and forth together. And, dear, if you +sit beside her in the car perhaps you will learn to love books, too." + +"Never!" Glory laughed. "It isn't the age for miracles, auntie. The +most you can hope for is that I'll learn to _study_. That's bad +enough!" + +"Well, kiss me, Little Disappointment, and run away. I wrote your +father to-day, and what do you think I told him?" + +"That I was a very good girl and he was to send on that ring right +off; that you were actually worried about me, I was studying so hard; +that--" + +"That you were a dear girl," Aunt Hope laughed softly. "Now off with +you!" + +In the middle of the night Glory woke out of a dream that she was at +the tip-top head of the geometry class, and in Latin the wonder of +Centre Town Seminary for Young Ladies. The moonlight was streaming in +on her face and found it laughing at the absurdity of the dream. + +"The dream belongs to the Other Girl, not me. She's the one that +ought to have the chances, too. I wish I could help her--why!" Glory +sat up in bed, wide awake. Something had occurred to her. + +"Why, of course. Why didn't I think of it before!" she said aloud. +"I'll ask Aunt Hope--no, I'll _do_ it." And then she tumbled back +into the pillows to think out her plan. If the Other Girl could have +known! + + + + +Chapter IV. + + +Two things prevented the immediate divulging of Glory's plan. She +chafed at them both impatiently. On the way to the train the next +morning Judy Wells waylaid her. That was one. + +"I'm going, too," Judy announced cheerfully. "Of course you're +delighted--I knew you would be! You see, I was taken violently +homesick for the old Seminary, so I thought I'd run along with you +and spend the day. I tried to work up a little enthusiasm in the +other girls, but it was no use." + +At any other time Glory would have been delighted enough at Judy's +lively company, but to-day she wanted to propose her new plan to the +Other Girl in the threadbare clothes. Judy would be dreadfully in her +way about doing that. She would have to put it off a day. Glory never +liked to put things off. + +The other thing that interfered was the tiny boy she found sitting +beside the Other Girl when she got on the train. He was almost too +small to interfere with anything! Such a bit of a creature, in +trousers almost too short to deserve the name! And beside him was +tilted a tiny crutch that instantly suggested Tiny Tim to +Dickens-loving Glory. Then she remembered that the Other Girl had +spoken of a "Tiny Tim" the day before. So the Other Girl must have +read Dickens, too. + +"Here's a good seat," Judy said, dropping into the one just ahead of +the two shabby figures. + +Glory nodded cordially as she passed them, but how could she do any +more? She could not introduce Judy when she didn't know the Other +Girl's name herself! And, besides--well, Judy was not the--the kind +to introduce to her. Instinctively Glory recognized that. + +In between Judy's gay chatter, bits of child-talk crept to Glory's +ears from behind, with now and then a quiet word from the Other Girl. +She found herself listening to that with distinctly more interest +than to Judy. + +"No let's play it, Di," the child-voice piped eagerly, and there was +a little clatter of the tiny crutch as it was tucked away out of +sight under the seat. + +"Can't see it now, can you?" + +"Not a splinter of it, Timmie." + +"I guess not! An' you wouldn't ever s'pose anybody was lame, would +you? Not _me!_" + +"_You!_ The idea, Timmie!" + +The child-voice broke into delighted laughter. + +"Well, then let's begin. Play I'm very big, Di--oh, 'normous! You +playin' that? An' play both my legs are twins--of course you must +play that. An' that I could run down this car if I wanted to, +faster'n--oh, faster'n ever was! Just lickety-split, you know! You +playin' it?" + +Glory could not hear the low reply, but the child-voice was clear +enough. + +"Now s'posin' that man 'cross the car got up an' came back here--play +he did--an' said up real loud, 'See here, boy, you 'mind me of when I +was young. _I_ was big an' straight an' had twin legs, too!' Oh, my! +s'posin' that, Di! _Play it!_ You playin' it?" + +The Other Girl's voice rang out, sharp with wistfulness. + +Glory's eyes filled suddenly with tears. It must be such a hard play +to play with Tiny Tim! + +"Play I wear ve-ry big boots an' my mother has a dreadful time +keepin' my pants up with my legs. 'Oh, how that boy does grow!' she +keeps a-sighin' an' a-sighin', while she's lettin' 'em down. Play +once she _cried_, he grew so fast!--Diantha Leavitt, you're lookin' +right straight out the window! I don't believe you're playin' at all, +one speck. I'm goin' to get my crutch an' be lame again, so there!" + +"Mercy! what are we sitting here in the sun for!" Judy suddenly +exclaimed. "I say we go over there on the shady side. It'll burn us +all up." + +"Let it," said Glory. "I like it. But go over there, dear. I'll stay +here and get a nice pinky-brown! Good-by till Centre Town." + +She was glad when Judy was gone. In an instant she had wheeled about +toward the two behind her, nodding at the tiny boy in a friendly way. + +"Is that your little brother?" she asked of the Other Girl. + +Tiny Tim answered for himself. + +"I'm her little brother now, but I _was_ big a little speck of a +while ago. Di went an' stopped playin'," he said in an aggrieved +tone. The Other Girl laughed tenderly. + +"He's the greatest boy for 'playin' things,' aren't you, Timmie? Yes, +he's my brother. I bring him with me once in a great while for a +change. He likes the ride on the cars and he takes care of himself +beautifully while I'm at work. Then at nooning we play picnic, don't +we, Timmie?" + +There was no time for further talk then. + +When the return trip came, Judy filled all the home ride with her +lively spirits. So it was not until the next morning that Glory found +her opportunity to broach her new idea to the Other Girl. She came +breezily into the car and sat down beside the quiet figure with a +sigh of relief. + +"I'm glad my friend Judy isn't homesick for the Seminary to-day, as +she was yesterday," she laughed. "And I'm a _little_ glad you didn't +bring your brother. You see, there's something I want to talk about, +and, if you don't mind, I'll begin this minute." + +Mind!--the Other Girl mind how soon this dainty, beautiful girl +"began"! She stole an admiring look at the natty costume and upward +into the bright, sweet face. But what was this that her companion was +saying? A gasp of astonishment came to her as she sensed the words +that were being spoken rapidly. + +"I thought it all out in bed, night before last. Oh, I hope you'll +like it! _I_ think it's a lovely plan. You see, we'll have two +three-quarters--an hour and a half a day. We can study together going +down, and coming back I'll tell you all I learned in my +classes--don't you see? You don't speak. I'm afraid you don't like +it." + +"Like it?--oh, if it's what I think! If it's--_that!_ But I'm afraid +I don't quite understand. I don't _dare_ to understand!" + +Glory clapped her hands gayly. + +"It's plain as a b c," she said. "You long to go to school and +can't--I _don't_ long to and can! Now here's my idea that I evolved +with my thinking-cap--I mean _night_-cap--on! Let's go to school +together. We can pore over the horrid old books on the train, +mornings and nights, and I can try and remember all the teachers tell +me at the Seminary during the day. Aunt Hope will be overjoyed to +have me try to remember anything! And, don't you see, anybody who +worships history and can't let a Latin book alone, could keep up easy +enough with a dull thing like me." + +Glory paused for breath. She was still laughing with her eyes. But at +sight of the radiance in the lean, brown face of the Other Girl, she +sobered in sudden awe. To be as glad as that for a chance to learn! + +"You understand all right now, don't you?" Glory said gently, and her +gloved fingers stole across to the Other Girl's uncovered ones and +rested on them reassuringly. + +"Yes, now I dare to--but oh, it takes my breath away!" the Other Girl +cried. "It's such a beautiful, beautiful thing for you to do! Do you +think I don't know that? Do you think I won't do my very best? Why, I +can study in the rubber factory, too! I mean I can carry the geometry +propositions in my head--I know I should remember every line and +every letter--and work them out noontimes and in all the betweens." + +"You needn't do that," Glory said, "you could copy the lesson off on +a piece of paper--no, I'll tell you! I'll get Judy's books for you. +Oh, there are plenty of ways to manage. Now let's begin. There's time +left to make a start, anyway." + +"Wait," the Other Girl said quickly, "I hate to waste a minute, but +I've got to say something. I want you to know what it may mean if you +do this for me. It may mean luxuries for my sick mother and--a chance +for my little 'Tiny Tim.' Do you know, my teachers said if I could +only keep on I might get a place to teach. Think of it! Do you know, +some doctors told mother once that there was a little chance of +straightening Timmie's bad leg, if we had the money. Oh, do you know +this _may_ mean things like that! Do you think I'm not thankful to +you?" + +The impetuous words flowed out in a hurried stream, and the eyes of +the Other Girl, as they looked into Glory's, shone through a dazzle +of happy tears. For a moment after the eager voice ceased neither +girl made a sound. Then it was Glory who spoke. + +"Why!" she cried with a long breath, "Why, I didn't know it could +mean anything like that! I thought it would just mean getting a +little learning. I didn't know there were things like that at the +other end of it." + +Glory had lived a little less than sixteen years, but they had been +"different" from the years the Other Girl had lived. Aunt Hope had +been all the suffering she had ever seen--Aunt Hope, smiling and +brave, on her silken pillows. Until that sad little story the other +night, she had scarcely connected anything sorrowful or hard to bear +with Aunt Hope. + +The beautiful autumn weeks multiplied to months, and Glory's plan +prospered thriftily. The lessons went on steadily through the morning +and afternoon rides. The Other Girl's face was set toward a possible, +splendid time to come; Glory's was set toward patience and +gentleness. For it was not always easy to give up the hour and a half +each day to the distasteful work that she so cordially hated. At +first, I mean; strangely enough, after a while things changed. Glory +woke up one day to find herself keenly interested in a knotty +problem. She could hardly wait to get her head beside the Other +Girl's, to see if together they could not solve it. + +"Think of it, auntie! Is it me, or am I somebody else?" she laughed, +hurrying in to kiss Aunt Hope good-by. "Think of _me_ in a hurry to +get an answer to a problem!" + +"Yes, it's you, dear. It's Glory Glorified!" laughed back the sweet +voice. Then she drew the girl's bright head down beside her. "It's +gone, dear. The Ambition out of my heart. It's passed to somebody +else--to you, I think, Glory--yes, I'm confident! You've got it this +minute!" + +And Glory understood. She went away wondering if it could be true +that she, Gloria Wetherell, had a real ambition in life. + +"Auntie hasn't called me Disappointment for a long time," she mused +happily, as she sped down the frosty street with the nip of keen air +on her cheeks and the tonic of it in her lungs. Her mind hurried back +to the knotty problem. She and the Other Girl were still at work on +it that night, coming home. It happened that it had not been taken up +in the recitation that day. + +"It looks so easy and it isn't," sighed Glory. + +"But we're bound to solve it," the Other Girl cried. The two heads +were close together, and the Crosspatch Conductor smiled as he passed +them. He had been watching them with a good deal of interest for a +long time. This time he turned and came back. + +"Tough one, eh?" he said. + +"Awfully!" laughed Glory. + +"But we're going to get it," smiled the Other Girl, going back to the +front. The Crosspatch Conductor stood regarding Glory gravely. + +"Helping her along, eh?" + +"No," answered Glory, "she's helping me." + +Another wrestle with the problem, and still another--then an exciting +moment when victory seemed in sight. Closer drew the brown +heads--more earnest grew the eager voices. "We've got it!" + +"Goody!" cried Glory. "Just in time, too, for here we are at--" + +Her face sobered. She got to her feet in a sudden panic. What was +this strange little place they were drawing into? Those woods, the +houses and the trees--they were not Little Douglas. + +"I've been carried by!" gasped Glory. "I wasn't noticing. There isn't +any other train back to-night--I tell you I've been _carried by_. +This isn't my home!" + + + + +Chapter V. + + +As Glory stood on the desolate little platform, realizing that she +had been carried by her own station, she presented a picture of +dismay. For an instant the Other Girl stood regarding her with +indecision. Then with a slight flush she stepped to Glory's side, +and, placing her hand on her arm, said: + +"You have been carried by your home, but you have not been taken by +mine. Come with me; you will not mind much." There was a shy pleading +in the Other Girl's tone. On the instant of offering hospitality to +this dainty new friend, and acute perception of the barrenness of it +overswept and dismayed her. In a flash she saw the patch on the seat +of Tim's trousers, and instantly an array of mismatched cups, nicked +plates and cracked pitchers, passed before her vision. Had the dainty +Glory in all her life eaten from a nicked plate? + +But instantly she rallied and was her own sweet self. + +"It is only a little way. We will try to make you comfortable," the +Other Girl said hurriedly. Her thoughts seemed to have occupied a +long time, and she feared her invitation might have seemed lacking in +cordiality. Glory scanned her face, then said: + +"There isn't any train back to-night--not one. I _can't_ go back. If +you are sure it will not be a trouble-- But what will Aunt Hope do? +She will be so worried!" + +The train was wriggling into motion, and Glory caught sight of the +Crosspatch Conductor on one end of the platform. She ran toward him +wrathfully. + +"Goodness! You _here?_" he cried. + +"You carried me by!" Glory cried. "I don't think it was very nice in +you!" Then she laughed at the honest dismay in his grim face. The +train was under way and she had to raise her voice to call after him. +"Never mind! I'm going with my friend. I'll--forgive--you!" + +"Oh, I'm glad you said that!" the Other Girl exclaimed earnestly. +"I'm glad you said 'my friend.' Come, it's this way, just around one +corner." + +But Glory hesitated. "Is there any chance anywhere to telephone?" she +asked. "I've _got_ to send word to auntie. She would worry all night +long, I know she would. I never stayed away from her but once before, +and that time I telephoned. There's a wire in our house, you know." + +The Other Girl reflected. "There's one at the store," she said, "but +it's quite a walk. I don't mind it myself. I love to walk. But you--" + +"But I do, too!" Glory laughed, tucking her hand through the shabby +jacket sleeve in the friendliest way. "And if I didn't, do you +suppose it would matter? I'd walk to a telephone that had Aunt Hope +at the other end of it, if I had to go on one foot!" + +"Like Tiny Tim," the Other Girl smiled gently. "But Timmy can walk as +fast as anybody. He makes that little crutch of his do almost +anything but skip." + +"Skip! Oh, how I used to skip when I was little! I can remember it as +plain!" + +"I don't believe I ever was young. At any rate, I never skipped," +added the Other Girl thoughtfully. + +"Never skipped! Then it's time you did. It's never to late to--skip. +Come on, I'll show you how." + +Gayly they went skipping down the stretch of snowy roadway, with +their arms around each other. The crisp air reddened the tips of +their ears and patted their backs approvingly. For once, at any rate, +the Other Girl was young. + +At the "store," Glory telephoned to Aunt Hope. It was quite a while +before she could make connections with the private wire, but she +waited patiently. + +"Hello!" she called, her voice unnecessarily high-pitched. "I'm Glory. +Is this you, James? Well, tell auntie I got carried by--_carried by!_ +What? Yes, I'm all safe. I'm with my fr-- Why, auntie, that's you! I +hear your voice! You ought not to have walked out into the hall! Yes, +I'm just as 'all right' as I can be. I'm going home with Diantha. +What? Oh, yes, I knew you'd feel safe about me, then. I sha'n't tell +Diantha. It would puff her up! Yes, I wore my rubbers. Yes, I've got +my muffler. No, my cold's better. Take care of yourself, auntie; +good-by. Oh, no, wait! You still there, auntie? Well, the reason I +got carried by was because I was so buried up in a problem. Isn't +that funny for Glory? Good-by." + +Tiny Tim met them at the door of a little brown house near the +station. His eyes widened with astonishment at sight of Glory. Then +his glance traveled to his sister in evident uneasiness. + +"My!" he ejaculated slowly, "I've e't up the last cooky!" + +Glory laughed out merrily. "Oh, I'm so glad!" she said, "for I don't +like cookies unless there's a hole in them." + +"These had holes. I've e't up the last hole, too." + +"Oh, dreadful! But I'll tell you what, Timmie--if you'll let me come +in and stay all night, I'll promise not to eat anything but a slice +of bread and butter. We could cut a hole in that and play it was a +cook--" + +"The bread's gone, too. I've e't up--" + +"Timothy Leavitt, are you going to let us in?" laughed his sister, +though there were two red spots blooming in her cheeks. What would +Timmie say next! She led the way through the tiny hall into a big, +bright room whose centerpiece was a frail, smiling little woman with +a lapful of calico bits. She held out both her hands to Glory. + +"Don't tell me who she is, Diantha. As if I didn't know! My dear, my +dear, I am very glad you have come. I have hoped you would, ever +since your path crossed Di's, and--" + +"Glorified it, mamma." + +"Yes, glorified it--that is it. Take off your things, dear, and just +feel snug and at home." + +And thus the little home opened its arms to dainty Glory. The welcome +extended was as gracious and as perfect a hospitality as could have +been found in the grandest home in the land. There was no luxury or +even plenty. But Glory saw instantly there was the happiness that +goes with love. It was her awakening. A new wonder filled the girl's +heart that poverty and happiness could live together like this. While +Di was busy she mused. + +"I thought poor people fretted and grumbled. I know I should. _I_ +shouldn't be sunshiny and nice like this. And they open their doors +into their poor, bare, empty rooms and bid me welcome just as +beautifully as Aunt Hope would do to our house. It is beautiful. Just +beautiful! It's a bit of heaven right down here in this little +unpainted house." + +Diantha put on a big apron and rolled up her sleeves. "I'm going out +and make some muffins," she smiled. "Timmie, you stay here." + +"Yes," said Glory, "Timmie'll stay with me. Can't we play +something--we two?" + +"Uncrutchit!" demanded Tiny Tim eagerly. + +"Un--what? I don't believe I ever played that." + +"No, 'course not. You ain't got any old crutch to _un_." + +Glory looked helplessly at the gentle mother, who smiled back at her +quietly. But in the sweet voice, when it spoke, there was depthless +wistfulness. + +"Timmie means play he hasn't any crutch--that he doesn't need one, +you know," explained the sweet voice. "'Un-crutch-it' is his favorite +play. He puts the crutch out of sight--" + +"This way," cried Timmie, clattering the little crutch under the sofa +in hot haste. "That's uncrutching, don't you see? Now I'm uncrutched. +You play I'm very big an' tall an' my legs match. Every little while +you must look up an' say, 'Mercy me! how that child grows!'" + +The little play went on until supper was ready. Then the little +crutch came out again and was put into active service. + +It was a strange meal to Glory. She told Aunt Hope afterward all +about it. + +"It was just as quiet and nice-behaved and beautiful as any supper, +only there wasn't anything to eat! Oh, auntie, you know what I mean! +You know I mean there were the muffins (they were splendid) and the +tea and dried apple sauce. I had more than I could eat. But you don't +know how I wanted to fill that pale little lady's plate with some of +our chicken and gravy and set by her plate a salad, after she'd +worked all day. And pile Tiny Timmie's plate tumble-high with +goodies! It made me ashamed to think of all the beautiful suppers of +my life that I've taken without even a 'Thank you, God.'" + +The two girls went to bed early and lay talking, as girls have done +since girls began. The topics of talk drifted through the different +lessons into personal subjects. + +"Do you know, I'm hoping!" the Other Girl burst out softly, with a +little quiver of her thin body under the quilts. "I began to last +night. I'm going to do it right from now on. Maybe it's silly, but I +am." + +"Is it a riddle?" asked Glory. + +"Oh, don't you understand? I thought you must, because I did! I mean +I'm hoping to pass the examinations for the next grade next summer. +That's just what I'm doing, Glory Wetherell." + +"Why, that's nothing! I am going to pass, too. If I get through the +seminary I am going to Smith College some day." + +"And if I pass for the eighth grade I'm going to keep right on +studying for the first grade in high-school. Miss Clem says I can. I +talked with her the other night. She says she'll help. Oh, Glory, +there is no end to this road you have started me on." + +"I am glad," said Glory. "Auntie says for folks to keep on when +they're doing well enough, and not fret about the other end of the +road. One never knows what's on ahead or what may happen." + +"And if I ever get to be anybody, Glory Wetherell, remember it's you +who started me." + +After a while the subdued chattering ceased, and the two girls fell +asleep, Glory to dream that she and her new friend graduated together +from the Centre Town Seminary, in beautiful twin white dresses, and +that Aunt Hope was there and clapped her thin, white hands (but they +were round and pink-tinted in the dream) when she heard Glory's +valedictory. + +The Other Girl's dream was of longed-for luxuries for the patient +mother and legs that matched for Tiny Tim. Both dreams came to an end +in a startling way. + + + + +Chapter VI. + + +Glory and Diantha were awakened from their rosy dreams by a sharp +voice calling, "Fire! Fire!" They started up in affright, only to +find little Timmie perched on the foot of the bed, crying +monotonously, "Fire! Fire!" and interspersing his fire-alarm with +brisk drummings of his crutch against the footboard. But though he +had alarmed the girls, he himself did not look alarmed. + +"Fire! Fire! Fi--" + +"Timothy Leavitt, where is it? Tell me quick!" his sister gasped +breathlessly. + +"In the kitchen. Fire! Fire! Fi--" + +"The kitchen? What part of it?--where?" + +"In the stove. _I_ built it," Timmie said in an aggrieved tone, but +his eyes were glinting with mischief sparks. "I built it hours ago, +an' you didn't get up--an' you _didn't_ get up! I didn't s'pose we'd +ever have breakfast unless I wokened you up." + +"You bad little boy! So you went and made us think there was a fire?" + +"Well, there is--I built it, so there!" + +Glory was still laughing periodically over their fright, when they +got to the station to take the train. She had the picture of +innocent-faced Timmie still in her mind, and the monotonous drumming +of his little crutch, between his alarms, in her ears. + +"'Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!'" she sang laughingly. "Didn't the little +scamp give us a fine scare, though! But he woke us up!" + +"Oh, yes, he woke us up," answered the Other Girl, grimly. + +After morning recitations, the Principal of the Centre Town Seminary +had a caller in her office. It was Glory, with a pretty little air of +pleading about her. She came in, in answer to the Principal's "Come," +and stood, a suppliant, in the doorway. + +"Are you busy? Ought I to go away?" she asked. "You see, I've got +quite a lot to say." + +"Then say it, my dear," the Principal smiled pleasantly. "Sit down in +that chair and begin." + +"Well, then--oh, Miss Sweetwater, can't my friend graduate with me? I +mean, if you let me graduate--or if you _don't_ let me--I mean can't +she graduate, anyway? She is a splendid scholar, and--and she needs +to graduate somewhere! You'll let her, won't you?" + +The Principal smiled. "Who is your friend, Glory?" she asked. + +"She's Diantha Leavitt, and she works in the rubber factory, and +studies just awfully at home, and I help her some going and coming on +the train." + +"Oh, she is not one of the Seminary girls, then? She has never been +here? Dear child, how do you think she can graduate if she has never +been here to school?" + +Glory's eager face fell. "I didn't know but you'd let her," she said, +slowly. "She's just as smart as can be. I'm just sure she can pass +the examinations. It would mean so much to Diantha to pass. I'm sorry +I troubled you, Miss Sweetwater--I didn't know." + +But the kind-hearted Principal detained Glory and drew out the whole +wistful little story of the Other Girl. At the end, she said, "I am +glad to know of her. Such a girl must be encouraged. I will keep +mindful of her and see if I cannot help her in some way." + +"Thank you. I hope you can help her. She wants to do so much if she +can ever get to earning. It seems as though almost anyone could learn +if they had a mother to help, and a Tiny Tim. There's an Aunt Hope. I +can do it for her. I'm glad I've got to work. And thanks to Di, I do +not stand so bad a show of graduating--with a great deal of honor, +too. Dear old Di!" + +More of the late winter days snowed past, and there came, by and by, +hints of spring--faint suggestions of green in the bare, brown spots, +whiffs of spring tonic in the air and clear little bird-calls +overhead. New courage was born in Glory's heart and the Other Girl's, +and both studied harder and harder with each day that went by. The +Crosspatch Conductor took note of the two brown heads bent over the +book and wondered behind his grim mask. + +"What is it, anyhow?" he asked one day, late in the spring, stopping +before them in the aisle. + +The two pairs of eyes met his laughingly. "Oh--things. Splendid +things!" Glory said. "Certificates and diplomas some day, and sick +folks with glad faces, and little boys with twin legs! Isn't that +enough to 'pay'?" + +"Umph!" the Crosspatch Conductor muttered in his beard, and strode on +down the aisle. But he beckoned Glory aside that night on the home +trip and questioned her about the Other Girl. Glory told him the +whole story in a few hurried words. + +"That's why she's studying so hard," she wound up, out of breath. +"She wants to get it all and some day be a teacher." + +"And you're helping her," the Crosspatch Conductor said, gruffly. + +"Mercy, no! She's helping me. That's why _I'm_ studying so hard! I +don't see what you mean--oh! In the very beginning, you mean? _That?_ +I'd forgotten there ever was a time when I helped her. I s'pose I +might have a little, at first." + +The conductor put his big hand on Glory's shoulder with a touch as +light and caressing as that of a woman. + +"You're the right kind, both o' you," he said. "It never comes amiss +to help anybody. I've half a mind to try a little of it myself. See +here, don't you tell her and go to raising hopes, but it kind of +seems to me as though I knew a place where she could teach right +away. I know a boy who hasn't any mother that wants to learn things. +She'd make a pretty good sort of a teacher for a little feller who +can never go outdoors and get the sunshine, and all that, now +wouldn't she?" + +"Oh, are you sure there is such a boy? Can you get him for Diantha? +Would it pay her money--lots of it?" + +"Easy! Easy! Don't go too fast. It wouldn't pay her a fortune, 'cause +fortunes ain't found like hazel nuts, growing on bushes. But it ought +to pay her pretty tolerable. I'm sure enough about the boy;" and a +sad look came into the conductor's eyes. "He hasn't any mother, you +see, and it's pretty hard for the little chap." + +"Is he your boy?" asked Glory, putting her little hand on the +conductor's sleeve and looking sympathetically up into the grave +eyes. + +The conductor nodded. "He's mine, and his grandmother says he ought +to be learning things--poor Dan! That girl over there wouldn't be a +very bad one to help him get hold, now would she?" + +"Oh! Oh! Oh! What will she say? Why, if I had a little boy and he +couldn't go out into the sunshine, and he wanted to learn, I'd rather +have Diantha's little finger to help him with than the whole of some +folks. You don't know Di." + +The conductor laughed. "I guess I haven't been watching you two this +winter without finding out something," he said, his eyes holding a +twinkle. Then the old, gruff manner came back to him and he added +brusquely, "But there, don't you go to countin' the chickens before +they're hatched. I'll have to talk with grandma first; maybe she'd +rather have a sort of circumspect person." + +"But your Danny wouldn't--you said his name was Dan," said Glory, her +face one sea of dimples, and her eyes like diamonds. "'Most seems as +if a little boy who couldn't go out in the sunshine ought to have the +one he'd like best with him. He wouldn't care much for a--a +circumspect person, would he?" asked Glory, a merry twinkle in her +eyes. + +"There now, you go along!" said the conductor, laughing in spite of +himself. + +But Glory did not "go along" until she had caught the big hand and +squeezed it between her soft little palms as it was extended to help +her down to the Douglas platform. + +That night Glory could hardly wait to get to Aunt Hope. + +"Oh, auntie, won't it be splendid if she gets that place!" she cried +when she had unfolded the beautiful plan at which the conductor had +hinted. + +"But you mustn't set your heart on it, Glory. The grandmother may not +think that so young a girl will do for the boy." + +"She will when she sees Diantha, auntie--I am just sure of it. Di is +so strong and helpful, and so cheery, and so full of courage, and +never thinks of herself, but always of others." + +"Well, dear, we will leave it in the good Father's hands, and just +ask him to bring it out in the way that is best for all." + + * * * * * + +June and all its glory was touching the world, and the sweet air, +full of the perfume of rose and honeysuckle, crept in and fanned two +faces close together on the sofa pillows. + +"Auntie, you haven't called me 'Little Disappointment' this ever so +long," Glory said suddenly after a long silence. "Is it a good sign? +I thought--well--maybe it was." + +"Dear child!" Aunt Hope's arms were round Glory, holding her in their +feeble, loving clasp. "Dear child, did I ever call you that? Are you +sure? Well, I shall never do it again, dear, as long as we twain +shall live! Do you want a new name, Glory?" + +"Yes'm, please," murmured the girl. + +"Then you are my Little Ambition, and God bless you, dear!" + +After that it was still again, and the cool darkness wrapped them in +softly. They could hear the solemn tick-tock of the clock across the +room. It was the same clock that used to say reproachful things to +Glory when she was a little child and had been naughty. Once she had +climbed on a chair and stopped its accusing tongue, because she could +not bear it any longer. It was talking to Glory now, and she could +not make it say anything but "Dear--child! dear--child!" over and +over, solemnly. It was Aunt Hope's voice it was trying to imitate. +Glory laughed out softly, under her breath. + +"What is it, dear child?" + +"Dear--child! dear--child!" echoed the clock solemnly. + +"I've got to get up and stop that clock!" Glory said. + + * * * * * + +The week before the graduating exercises at the Centre Town +Seminary, Glory had another of her "ideas," and of course she carried +it to Aunt Hope. + +"Why not?" she said, when she had introduced it to her. "It would be +like one of Tiny Tim's plays. He could go, too, and help us 'play' +it, don't you see? I think I should enjoy graduating better if +Diantha 'played graduate' with me. The teacher wouldn't care if she +sat with me down on the end seat. I don't believe she ever had a +white dress in her life--a soft, thin, floaty one." + +"Would you like to have hers just like yours, Glory?" + +"Just, auntie. She's the--the _friendest_ friend I ever had," Glory +said simply. "I'd like to have her close when I'm there getting ready +to read." + +And so it came about that graduation day found the Other Girl beside +Glory, in a beautiful white dress that lay about her in soft, sheer +folds. The Other Girl's face above it was shining and rapt. This was +almost like graduating herself. On the other side of Glory sat Tiny +Tim, in the conscious pride of his best suit. There was no little +crutch in sight. Timmie had hidden it under the seat. He was playing +"Uncrutchit." + +"You can't see--an'thing, can you?" he whispered anxiously to the +Other Girl, across Glory's lap. + +"Not a splinter of it, Timmie." + +"An' you don't see where my legs don't match, do you?" + +"No, not a single bit." + +"That's all right, then." Timmie's brow smoothed with relief. He was +silent a moment, and then his little whispering voice again, this +time to Glory: + +"Say, isn't this just splendid! I'm playin', an' Di's playin'. You're +the only one that's _it_, honest true." + +Another silence. Then, "Say, I'm sorry I wokened you up that time, +screamin' 'Fire!'" + +Glory laughed down into the repentant little face. "I'll forgive you, +Timmie," she whispered. And then the exercises began and the air was +full of a blast of jubilant music. + +When it was all over, the three went back to Little Douglas together +on the train. There was to be a bit of a banquet in Aunt Hope's room. + +Glory had a neat white parchment roll in her hand, and she held it +shyly, as if she had not had time to get very well acquainted with +it. + +"To think this is a diploma with Gloria Wetherell in Latin inside +it!" she cried. + +"To think this is a beautiful white dress with _me_ inside!" answered +the Other Girl. "Do you know--oh, do you _know_, it doesn't smell of +rubber at all? There isn't a whiff about it; it's just sweet and +dainty and--_other-folksy_." + +On the train the Crosspatch Conductor drew Glory aside a moment. His +eyes rested first on the parchment roll. + +"Got it, didn't you? Good! Well, I've got it too. She's +consented--grandma has. I've told her all about the other one, and +what you said, and it's going to be all right. We won't tell her yet +until we get kind of used to it ourselves, don't you see?" + +"Oh, I'm so glad!" cried Glory, clasping her hands. "I don't believe +I ever can keep it. To think she'll leave that old rubber factory and +be in a nice, pleasant home all the time, and help her folks, and be +having some of her dreams come true. I wonder what she will say!" + +"I thought we'd get her over to the house and have Danny tell her. +He's a great one for setting things out." + +"You're the best man I ever knew in the wide world!" said Glory. "But +I can't keep it very long--you mustn't expect me to." + +The conductor laughed. "All right--all right. I'll get grandma to +write. I've got her address. One of the men down at the factory told +me a good deal about her. There are many ways of finding out about +folks when one sets about it." + +"Well, you'll never find out anything about Diantha but what's nice," +said Glory. "Oh! I'm so glad!" And not a happier girl than Gloria +Wetherell could have been found in all that region. + +As to the Other Girl, her heart nearly burst with its weight of +happiness when she found out what was in store for her. + +"It's Glory's doings. She has just glorified my whole life, and +helped me to find the rainbow. And Timmie!--won't I find a rainbow +for him too, bless him! And some day his legs shall be twins, if +working can do it." + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Glory and the Other Girl, by Annie Hamilton Donnell + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLORY AND THE OTHER GIRL *** + +***** This file should be named 27987.txt or 27987.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/9/8/27987/ + +Produced by Jeff Kaylin + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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