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Updated: September 18, 2025
"Pinch me, Gypsy Editha Westley pinch me hard!" she cried as she sat between Gyp and Isobel. "I don't believe I'm me. And really, truly going back to Highacres! I can't be Jerauld Clay Travis who used to sit on this rock and watch the little specks come along that silver ribbon road down there and disappear around the mountain and hate them because they could go and I couldn't.
Anyway, I'm trying so hard to always remember that I am very much grown-up that it is unkind of you to even hint that I am failing at it dismally." "I think from what my girls say that you're succeeding rather tremendously, here at Highacres." "That is nice in you and them! I wonder if I can live up to what they think I am." Miss Lee's face was very serious; she was really grown-up now.
She had never so much as spoken a "piece" in her life; since coming to Highacres she had listened, with fascination, to the weekly discussion of current topics, envying the ease with which the boys and girls of the room contributed to it. She had wondered whether she could ever grow so accustomed to large groups of people as to be able to talk before them.
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