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Updated: June 14, 2025
The pig! Gwendolyn's pink mouth opened in amazement. Here was the very pig that she heard belonged in a poke! The Piper was glowering at Jane, who was rocking gently from side to side, displaying first one face, then the other. "Well, I call that dancing," he declared. And pulling out a small, well-thumbed account-book, jotted down some figures.
And when Thomas had turned a key in the base of the cabbage, the rabbit gave a sudden hop, lifted a pair of long ears, munched at a bit of cabbage-leaf, turned his pink nose, now to the right, now to the left, and rolled two amber eyes. "And look! Look!" shouted Jane "The eyes light up" For each was glowing as yellowly as the tiny electric bulbs on either side of Gwendolyn's dressing-table.
She raised wet eyes to him. "You had your worries. You were doing more than your share. You had to meet the question of money. While I " He interrupted her. "We both thought we were doing our very best," he declared. "We almost did our worst! Oh, what would it all have amounted to what would anything have mattered if we'd lost our little girl!" The pink came rushing to Gwendolyn's cheeks.
That breeze brought with it the perfume of opening flowers, the fragrance exhaled by the trees along the way, the essence of the damp ground stirred by hoof and wheel. Gwendolyn breathed through nostrils swelled to their widest. Following the drive to the village came the trip up the stream to trout-pools. Gwendolyn's father led the way with basket and reel. She trotted at his heels.
She touched the right skirt of her riding-coat. "They ain't makin' pockets in little girls' dresses this year," said Jane, "Come! Come!" "'They," repeated Gwendolyn. "Who are 'They'? I'd like to know; 'cause I could telephone 'em and " "Hush your nonsense!" bade Jane. Then, catching at the delicate square of linen in Gwendolyn's hand, "How'd you git ink smeared over your handkerchief?
The reddish eyes blazed. "Do you want me to send for a great black bear?" she demanded. At that Gwendolyn quailed. "No-o-o!" Jane shot a glance toward Thomas. It invited suggestion. "Let her take something along," he said under his breath, nodding toward a glass-fronted case of shelves that stood opposite Gwendolyn's bed. Each shelf of the case was covered with toys.
And we're so glad you're friends already." Gwendolyn nodded. "She's one of my window-friends," she explained. "I'm going to stay with you," said the nurse. She smoothed Gwendolyn's hair fondly. "Will you like that?" "It's fine! I I wanted you!" The Doctor re-entered. "Well, how does our sharp little patient feel now?" he inquired. "I feel hungry."
Then, "What about the nurse-maid, dearie?" It was Gwendolyn's turn to wax enthusiastic. "Oh, she has such sweet hair!" she exclaimed. "And she smiles nice!" Jealousy hardened the freckled visage of the kneeling Jane. "And she's taken with you, I suppose," said she. "She threw me kisses," recounted Gwendolyn, crunching happily the while. "And, oh, Jane, some day may I go over to the brick house?"
"I see that you want to go to bed," she declared. The torrent of Gwendolyn's anger and resentment surged and broke bounds. She pivoted, arms tossing, face aflame. There were those wicked words across the river that each night burned themselves upon the dark. She had never pronounced them aloud before; but "Starch!" she shrilled, stamping a foot, "Villa sites! Borax! Shirts!"
"I don't want to be a rich little girl," voice shrill with determination. Jane went to shake her frilled apron into the gilded waste-basket beside Gwendolyn's writing-desk. "You can telephone any time now, Thomas," she said calmly. Gwendolyn turned upon Thomas. "But I don't want to be shut up in the car this afternoon," she cried. "And I won't! I won't! Jane gave a gasp of smothered rage.
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