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 wasthe one thing that she never forgot. "Good-by, auntie. I'm off, but I'm not happy. _Happy!_ I'm perfectlymis-er-a-ble! If only I had passed last year! To think I've got to goback to that baby seminary, and the other girls will have entered atGlenwood! Oh, dear! I'll never be able to catch up. " "There, dear, don't! Keep brave. Remember what a pleasant vacationwe'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 littlefigure into her strong girlish arms. "Auntie! Auntie! If you only could!" the girl cried wistfully. "Ifyou could only take my place! It isn't fair that we can't take turnsbeing well and strong. But, there, " she made a wry face to hide heremotion, "who'd want to be poor me to-day and go back on that horridtrain to that horrid, horrid school!" "Glory Wetherell, I believe you're lazy!" Aunt Hope laughed. "AWetherell lazy! There, kiss me again, Disappointment, and run away toyour 'horrid train'!" But out on the landing Glory paused expectantly, taking a rapidmental account of stock in readiness for the coming questions. "She'll call in a minute, " the girl thought tenderly, waiting for thesweet, feeble voice. "The day auntie doesn't call me back I sha'n'tbe 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 ondownstairs, smiling to herself triumphantly. Such luck! When had shebeen 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 ofthe stairs. Her discomfited laugh floated upward to the pale littleinvalid--"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, sinkingback 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 shehurried down the street, "I wish she wouldn't call me her'Disappointment' like that--dear auntie! There's any quantity of lovein it, but I don't like the sound of it. It reminds me of the trainsI've missed, and the books I've forgotten, and--oh, me!--all thelessons I haven't learned! I wish auntie didn't care so much aboutsuch things--_I_ don't!" It was a splendid September day. The sweet, sharp air kissed thegirl's fresh cheeks into blushes and sent her feet dancing along withthe very joy of locomotion. In spite of herself Glory began to behappy. And the girls were at the station to see her off--that was anunexpected 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? Andit's the Crosspatch Conductor's day, too--we've had an awful timecoaxing 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 theplatform. With a final wave of her book-strap she went dolefullyinside. Suddenly the September getting-off intoxication oozed out ofher finger-tips. She tumbled into the nearest seat with a sigh. Itwas 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 seethe triumph in Judy Wells' face, and Georgia Kelley's, and all theirfaces. They were hugging themselves for not having to go back to theseminary. Nobody's got to but just poor me. I declare, I'm so sorryfor 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 anotheryear, and must go back and forth from little Douglas to the CenterTown Seminary all by herself. Every morning and every night--the daysloomed 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 thegirls were her companions. No more gay little car-feasts on the hometrips, 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 howthis was going to feel, I'd have done it if it killed me. Think of ayear of this! Two times three quarters of an hour is an hour and ahalf. Let me see--in the three terms there'll be three timessixty-five days. Three times sixty-five is"--Glory figuredslowly--"one hundred and ninety-five days! An hour and a half in oneday--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 gloomyface. In spite of herself she multiplied one hundred and ninety-fiveby 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'tkeep 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 andforth from little Douglas to the Centre Town "Seminary for YoungLadies" because of Aunt Hope. Aunt Hope wanted her to, and Aunt Hopewas a dear. She would do even that for Aunt Hope! The slow local train lurched on between grainfields and cattle-dottedpastures, and the pretty, dainty little maid on the back seat sat on, with the plaintive face of a martyr. In spite of herself the OtherGirl smiled. The Other Girl was not dainty, nor was she pretty unlessshe smiled. The uptwitch of her mouth-corners and the flash of whiteteeth helped out a great deal. She had never had occasion to laughmuch in her fifteen years of life, but now and then she smiled--whenshe saw girls playing martyr, for instance! "It's funny, if she only knew it, " the Other Girl thought. "There shesits 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 incapitals on her face. Diantha Leavitt, do you hear?--there's a girlback 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 ather. " The Other Girl was sitting sidewise on her seat to give her aslanting view from under her shabby sailor of the trim littletailor-made figure on the back seat. She had been watching it eversince the train drew out of Douglas. She had recognized it at once asone of the five trim, girlish figures that had got on at the sameplace the previous spring. School-books and schoolgirl nonsense telltheir own story, and, besides, hadn't they always got off at CentreTown, and wasn't there a Young Ladies' Seminary there? You could puttwo and two together if you _didn't_ study arithmetic--if your name_was_ only Diantha Leavitt and you worked in the East Centre Townrubber factory, instead of going to school. The Other Girl's admiring eyes had taken in all the dainty details ofgloves, tiny chatelaine watch, and neat school satchel out of whichprotruded green and brown books. With a fierce little gesture theOther Girl had slid her own hands under her threadbare jacket. Theywere reddened and rough. "I should like to know if she can smell rubber clear back there, " shethought. "You ought to go ahead to the front o' the car, DianthaLeavitt. 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' thereach of it for one day in my life! _One day_--doesn't seem likeasking a great deal, does it?" She straightened and turned her back to the dainty girl of luxury onthe rear seat. She would not look again. But straight ahead, on thevery front of the car, her gloomy, roaming gaze was stayed. What wasthis she saw? The pretty, plaintive face of the schoolgirl, in themirror! She could not get away from it. The two pairs of blue eyesseemed to be looking directly into each other, but the Other Girl'swere full of angry tears. The Other Girl sat up, straight anddefiant, and stared ahead unswervingly. Mentally she was taking ascornful inventory of her own shabbiness. "My feather is perfectly straight;--it rained Saturday night, and Ihaven't had any time to curl it over the poker. It doesn't belong ona 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 thetop button is split. My necktie has been washed four times toooften--ugh! I smell rubber!" Glory consulted her little chatelaine watch impatiently. "I hope we're 'most there!" she sighed. "If this hasn't been thelongest ride! I know one thing--I shall bring my crochet-workto-morrow, and my tatting, and my knitting-work, and my--patchwork!There's more than one way to 'kill' time. " She smiled to herself alittle. From the cover of the tiny watch Aunt Hope's picture lookedup at her, smiling too. Glory nodded back to it. "Yes'm, I've got everything--I haven't forgotten a thing. And I'mgoing to be good, " she murmured, as she shut the sweet face out ofsight. The train slowed up. Glory was feeling better because of the littledraught of Sweet Face Tonic, and she was even humming a tune underher breath when she stepped down on to the platform. She steppeddaintily along with her pretty head held up saucily and her skirtsa-flutter. It wasn't so bad, after all, once off that horridtrain--good riddance to it! Let it go fizzing and puffing away. Thefarther 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 astudy 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 Townticketman, whom she knew a little. "Mr. Blodgett, " she cried, "what do you do when you get off the trainand 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 manysuch crises as this. In his mind he had always separated her from theother Douglas young misses as "The Fly-away One. " "Forgot 'em, eh? Got carried off, did they? Well, that's a seriouscase. You'll have to engage a counsel, but I ain't sure you'll getyour 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 wantmy books! What do folks do when they leave things--umbrellas orsomething--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. Idon'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'lltelegraph to the conductor to take 'em in charge and deliver 'em toyou at your place, in the morning. How's that?" "Oh, thank you, Mr. Blodgett. You're a regular dear--I mean you'revery kind. " "Don't change it, my dear. The first is good enough for me, " the oldman laughed. He was thinking what a refreshing little picture hissmall window framed in. Was it like this his little girl would havelooked if she had grown into girlhood? He gazed after the Flyaway Onewistfully. It was still early in the morning, and Glory loitered about in thecrisp September sunshine with an hour of time to "kill. " There wasbut 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. Thesun might just as well be snuffed out like a candle and it be rainingtorrents, for all the joy there was in living! "That was my fourth Latin lexicon, " Glory exclaimed suddenly, with avivid vision of Aunt Hope's grieved face. "I left two out in therain, and lost a lot of leaves out of another, and now this one'sgone on a tour! Poor auntie! I guess she might as well keep right oncalling me Little Disappointment. " It was an unpropitious beginning for the new term. Glory was obligedto refuse three times to recite, on the plea of her lost books, anddouble lessons loomed ahead of her dismally. But not for long--Glorynever allowed "making up" to dispirit her unduly. Studying, anyway, was a nuisance, and the less time you let it give you the blues, thebetter. If you hadn't any books you couldn't study--naturally. Thenwhy gloom over it a whole day? "Well, dear?" Aunt Hope said that night, as they sat in the twilighttogether; "well, the beginning and the ending are the first day. Howhas it been? You look happy enough--I can feel the corners of yourmouth, and they turn up!" The slender, cool fingers traveled over thegirl'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 fingersstill lingered on the smooth cheeks and then wandered slowly to thetangle of soft hair. The little girl half hidden from her by the duskwas 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 saidhe'd telegraph to have the Crosspatch Conduc--I mean the_conductor_--bring them with him to-morrow. It isn't likely anybodywould steal a school satchel of books!" The bright voice ran on, quite gay and untroubled again. But Aunt Hope put up her hand andfelt about for the laughing lips, to hush them. It had grown dark inthe room. "Glory, I am going to tell you a story, " Aunt Hope said quietly. "Youare 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. "Shehad two things she loved especially--an Ambition and a Brother. Shespelled them both with capitals, they were so dear to her. Sometimesshe told herself she hardly knew which one she loved the better. Butthere came a time when she must choose between them, and then sheknew. Of course it was the Brother. She put the Ambition away on ahigh 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 youdown and live with you again. Just now I must take care of myBrother. ' "For the girl and her Brother were all alone in the world, and shewas the older. He was a little thing, and she was all the mother hehad. For fifteen years she took care of him, and then one day shefound time to take the Ambition down from the high shelf--she had nothad time before. She took it down and clasped it in the old way toher breast. 'Oh, ho!' she laughed--she was so glad!--'Oh, _now_ Ihave time for you! You and I will never part again. ' And she was ashappy as a little child over a lost treasure. It did not seem todismay her because she was not a girl any longer. Women could haveAmbitions, she said. And what did she do but get out her study booksand wipe off the dust of years! It lay on them discouragingly thickand white, but she laughed in its face. "That was because she did not know. Sometimes it is better not toknow. Do you think it would have been kind to let her know on thatfirst sweet day? At any rate she never lost that day. She had it withher always afterward--the one beautiful, long day she and herAmbition 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 andthis other girl, who had grown to a woman, was lying in a dark roomthat somehow seemed to be full of a dull pain, she heard her Brotherand a doctor talking outside. She heard every word. Then she knewwhat was coming to her. She could tell what to expect. "Well, she put the Ambition back, away back in her heart, and it hasbeen there ever since. She lets it come to the front sometimes--butonly once in a very great while. " The quiet voice ceased speaking, and Glory, with a little stifledsob, 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 Brothertook care of the girl after that. He was the mother then. Even afterhe had a home of his own and a little baby, it was just the same. Buthe had to go away for years at a time, and the baby's mother wasdead, so it came about that the girl--or rather woman; she is a womannow--had the little baby almost always to herself. It was beautiful, beautiful, until the little mischief took it into her head to growup. Even then it wasn't so very bad! For, don't you see, she wouldfall 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. Hervoice trembled as she began to speak, and she hurried over the wordsas if she were afraid she might cry. "I'm going down to Judy's to--to get her books. Then I'm coming homeand--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, halfrepenting. "Glory understands things instantly, and they hurt. Butshe is so precious--I had to tell it!" That night Glory's light burned a good deal later than it ever hadbefore, and Glory's bright head bent doggedly over Judy's books. Glory and Aunt Hope's beloved Ambition were so close that night thatthey almost touched each other. Not quite. It was dull and bleak next day, and Glory was tired. The fiercelittle spark of energy seemed to have flickered out altogether. "Don't say 'good-by, dear, '--say, 'Good-by, Disappointment, '" shesaid 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 gotthere. She had just time to whisk up the steps on to the platform. The Crosspatch Conductor swung himself up after her. Glory eyed hisempty hands with distinct disappointment. "Haven't you got my books?" she panted, out of breath with herhurrying. "Nary a book, " the conductor said shortly. "Couldn't find 'em. Wentthrough the whole train. _Weren't_ any books. You'll have to hang onto '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! Shehad been so sure the conductor would have them for her. She didn'twant to lose them--not now, after that story. Oh, poor auntie! There were not many early morning passengers. Among others Glorynoticed an old man and two young men with dinner pails, and old ladywithout one, and a girl in a shabby jacket. She hadn't any dinnerpail in sight, anyway. She sat in the seat ahead of Glory and poredover a book. She seemed buried--lost--in it. Glory sat on the edge of her seat with her elbow on the window-silland her chin in her hand. Her glance wandered gloomily around the carand came to rest at last on the open page of the Other Girl's book. What--_What!_ Glory leaned forward and gazed intently at theopen page. On the margins were words scrawled carelesslyin--her--handwriting! The odd, perked-up letters were unmistakable. Who else ever wrote like that? Who ever made M's and capital S's likethat? Glory got suddenly to her feet. That was her book the Other Girl wasporing 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, pleasewait! Please let me explain. " She kept tight hold of the book andfaced Glory pluckily. "You must _let_ me explain. Maybe you think Ican'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 wereall together. " "I have them all, " the Other Girl returned quietly. The crimson inher cheeks had faded to a faint pink. She gazed up at Glory withsteady 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 awaywith my good name as though I would steal your books? They were lyingon the seat--I saw you had forgotten them--I took care of them foryou--I was going to give them back to you this morning, but I gotinterested 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, herown fingers quivering as she did it. Suddenly Glory forgot herheroics and began to laugh. "I never got interested in doing a sum, " she cried. "I wish you'dtell me how you do it. " The laugh was infectious. The Other Girl laughed too. Unconsciouslyshe 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. Neverwas--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 talkthat way. It all means so much to me. I had just begun historywhen--" She caught herself up abruptly, but Glory was curious. Wasthere 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 Ifelt sorriest about the history, though it broke my heart to give upLatin. I don't know what you'll think, but I translated six lines inyour Cicero last night. I did--I couldn't help it. I haven't theleast 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 ather shabby little neighbor. "Where do you go to school?" she demanded. Wherever it was, she wasthinking that was the school Aunt Hope would like her to go to. "At the East Centre Town rubber factory, " the Other Girl smiledwistfully. "And oh, dear! that makes me think--can you smell rubber?" Glory sniffed inquiringly. She certainly could detect a whiff of itsomewhere. "Yes--yes, I think I do, " she said. "Then I'm going ahead. It's me, " the Other Girl cried sharply. "Iought to have remembered. _I_ wouldn't enjoy sitting beside a rubberfactory 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 likeit. It's a variety. I'm tired of the perfume of white violets! If youdon't mind, I wish you'd tell me some more about when you hadto--stop, you know. I suppose you mean stop going to school, don'tyou?" "Yes. It was when my father was killed in an accident. I had to stopthen. There's only mother and me and 'Tiny Tim. ' I went to work inthe rubber factory--it was six months ago. I had just begun gettingreally into study, you know. " The quiet voice was unsteady with intense wistfulness. The OtherGirl's eyes were gazing out of the car window as if they saw lostopportunities and yearned over them. Glory could not see the longingin them until they turned suddenly toward her and she caught awondering glimpse of it. "We had never had much, you see, but after father was killed--afterthat there was only mother and me, and mother is sick. So of course Ihad to stop going to school. I should like to have had enough so Icould teach instead of working in a factory--" This much said, the Other Girl shrank into herself as if into alittle shabby shell. The distance between the two girls seemedabruptly to have widened. All at once Glory's hands were delicatelygloved and the Other Girl's bare and red; Glory's dress trim andbeautiful, and the Other Girl's faded and worn; Glory's jacketbuttons rich and handsome, the Other Girl's top button split. Itseemed 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, " shesaid. "I--I never talked like that before to a stranger, and I ain'tlike you, you know. I've explained about the books. I studied themlast night, but I don't think I hurt them any. " "I guess you did them good, " laughed Glory, brightly. "I expect tofind an inspiration between the pages--why, actually, I feel a littlebit (oh, a very little) of interest already in history. How delightedAunt 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 gotto 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 thecar window. The friendly little act sent the Other Girl on to theEast Centre Town rubber factory with a warm spot in her heart. "She's splendid, Diantha Leavitt, but don't you go to presuming onthat wave!" she said to herself, severely. "This minute I believeyou're presuming! You're looking ahead to seeing her again to-nightwhen you go home, and getting another wave--it's just like you. Iknow you! A little thing like that turns your head round on yourshoulders!" A little thing! Was it a little thing to have beautiful, breezy Glorywave 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 infriendly fashion. She watched for it breathlessly at night, when thetrain stopped at Centre Town. And it was there on the platform; itcame smiling into the car and stopped at her seat! By the time LittleDouglas was reached the two girls were friends. "Auntie, " Glory cried, dropping down by her aunt, "would you believeyou 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 sailorhat. "Her clothes were shabby--oh, terribly shabby. I thought herdreadful 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 beher name's Martha Jane! _I_ don't know. But I don't care--I shallkeep right on liking her. And so will you, because she studieshistory because she likes it. _Likes_ it! Says she'd rather study itthan not! It's a fact. " "I love her!" exclaimed Aunt Hope, fervently, and then they bothlaughed. And Glory told all that she knew about the Other Girl. AuntHope smoothed Glory's hair. It was the way she did when she approvedof things. "I like your new friend. I'm glad you left the books in the car, " shesaid. "But there's more to the sad little story. It's to becontinued, Glory. You must find out the other chapters. There will beplenty of time if you go back and forth together. And, dear, if yousit beside her in the car perhaps you will learn to love books, too. " "Never!" Glory laughed. "It isn't the age for miracles, auntie. Themost you can hope for is that I'll learn to _study_. That's badenough!" "Well, kiss me, Little Disappointment, and run away. I wrote yourfather 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 rightoff; 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 withyou!" In the middle of the night Glory woke out of a dream that she was atthe tip-top head of the geometry class, and in Latin the wonder ofCentre Town Seminary for Young Ladies. The moonlight was streaming inon 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 thatought to have the chances, too. I wish I could help her--why!" Glorysat 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 backinto the pillows to think out her plan. If the Other Girl could haveknown! Chapter IV. Two things prevented the immediate divulging of Glory's plan. Shechafed at them both impatiently. On the way to the train the nextmorning Judy Wells waylaid her. That was one. "I'm going, too, " Judy announced cheerfully. "Of course you'redelighted--I knew you would be! You see, I was taken violentlyhomesick for the old Seminary, so I thought I'd run along with youand spend the day. I tried to work up a little enthusiasm in theother girls, but it was no use. " At any other time Glory would have been delighted enough at Judy'slively company, but to-day she wanted to propose her new plan to theOther Girl in the threadbare clothes. Judy would be dreadfully in herway about doing that. She would have to put it off a day. Glory neverliked to put things off. The other thing that interfered was the tiny boy she found sittingbeside the Other Girl when she got on the train. He was almost toosmall to interfere with anything! Such a bit of a creature, introusers almost too short to deserve the name! And beside him wastilted a tiny crutch that instantly suggested Tiny Tim toDickens-loving Glory. Then she remembered that the Other Girl hadspoken of a "Tiny Tim" the day before. So the Other Girl must haveread Dickens, too. "Here's a good seat, " Judy said, dropping into the one just ahead ofthe two shabby figures. Glory nodded cordially as she passed them, but how could she do anymore? She could not introduce Judy when she didn't know the OtherGirl's name herself! And, besides--well, Judy was not the--the kindto introduce to her. Instinctively Glory recognized that. In between Judy's gay chatter, bits of child-talk crept to Glory'sears from behind, with now and then a quiet word from the Other Girl. She found herself listening to that with distinctly more interestthan to Judy. "No let's play it, Di, " the child-voice piped eagerly, and there wasa little clatter of the tiny crutch as it was tucked away out ofsight 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, wouldyou? 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! Youplayin' that? An' play both my legs are twins--of course you mustplay 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! Youplayin' it?" Glory could not hear the low reply, but the child-voice was clearenough. "Now s'posin' that man 'cross the car got up an' came back here--playhe did--an' said up real loud, 'See here, boy, you 'mind me of when Iwas 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 playto play with Tiny Tim! "Play I wear ve-ry big boots an' my mother has a dreadful timekeepin' my pants up with my legs. 'Oh, how that boy does grow!' shekeeps a-sighin' an' a-sighin', while she's lettin' 'em down. Playonce 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 suddenlyexclaimed. "I say we go over there on the shady side. It'll burn usall up. " "Let it, " said Glory. "I like it. But go over there, dear. I'll stayhere and get a nice pinky-brown! Good-by till Centre Town. " She was glad when Judy was gone. In an instant she had wheeled abouttoward 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 awhile ago. Di went an' stopped playin', " he said in an aggrievedtone. 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 achange. He likes the ride on the cars and he takes care of himselfbeautifully while I'm at work. Then at nooning we play picnic, don'twe, Timmie?" There was no time for further talk then. When the return trip came, Judy filled all the home ride with herlively spirits. So it was not until the next morning that Glory foundher opportunity to broach her new idea to the Other Girl. She camebreezily into the car and sat down beside the quiet figure with asigh of relief. "I'm glad my friend Judy isn't homesick for the Seminary to-day, asshe was yesterday, " she laughed. "And I'm a _little_ glad you didn'tbring 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 upwardinto the bright, sweet face. But what was this that her companion wassaying? A gasp of astonishment came to her as she sensed the wordsthat were being spoken rapidly. "I thought it all out in bed, night before last. Oh, I hope you'lllike it! _I_ think it's a lovely plan. You see, we'll have twothree-quarters--an hour and a half a day. We can study together goingdown, and coming back I'll tell you all I learned in myclasses--don't you see? You don't speak. I'm afraid you don't likeit. " "Like it?--oh, if it's what I think! If it's--_that!_ But I'm afraidI 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 andcan't--I _don't_ long to and can! Now here's my idea that I evolvedwith my thinking-cap--I mean _night_-cap--on! Let's go to schooltogether. We can pore over the horrid old books on the train, mornings and nights, and I can try and remember all the teachers tellme at the Seminary during the day. Aunt Hope will be overjoyed tohave me try to remember anything! And, don't you see, anybody whoworships history and can't let a Latin book alone, could keep up easyenough with a dull thing like me. " Glory paused for breath. She was still laughing with her eyes. But atsight of the radiance in the lean, brown face of the Other Girl, shesobered 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 hergloved fingers stole across to the Other Girl's uncovered ones andrested on them reassuringly. "Yes, now I dare to--but oh, it takes my breath away!" the Other Girlcried. "It's such a beautiful, beautiful thing for you to do! Do youthink I don't know that? Do you think I won't do my very best? Why, Ican study in the rubber factory, too! I mean I can carry the geometrypropositions in my head--I know I should remember every line andevery letter--and work them out noontimes and in all the betweens. " "You needn't do that, " Glory said, "you could copy the lesson off ona 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 timeleft to make a start, anyway. " "Wait, " the Other Girl said quickly, "I hate to waste a minute, butI've got to say something. I want you to know what it may mean if youdo this for me. It may mean luxuries for my sick mother and--a chancefor my little 'Tiny Tim. ' Do you know, my teachers said if I couldonly 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 ofstraightening Timmie's bad leg, if we had the money. Oh, do you knowthis _may_ mean things like that! Do you think I'm not thankful toyou?" The impetuous words flowed out in a hurried stream, and the eyes ofthe Other Girl, as they looked into Glory's, shone through a dazzleof happy tears. For a moment after the eager voice ceased neithergirl made a sound. Then it was Glory who spoke. "Why!" she cried with a long breath, "Why, I didn't know it couldmean anything like that! I thought it would just mean getting alittle learning. I didn't know there were things like that at theother 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 hadbeen all the suffering she had ever seen--Aunt Hope, smiling andbrave, on her silken pillows. Until that sad little story the othernight, she had scarcely connected anything sorrowful or hard to bearwith Aunt Hope. The beautiful autumn weeks multiplied to months, and Glory's planprospered thriftily. The lessons went on steadily through the morningand afternoon rides. The Other Girl's face was set toward a possible, splendid time to come; Glory's was set toward patience andgentleness. For it was not always easy to give up the hour and a halfeach day to the distasteful work that she so cordially hated. Atfirst, I mean; strangely enough, after a while things changed. Glorywoke up one day to find herself keenly interested in a knottyproblem. She could hardly wait to get her head beside the OtherGirl'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 toget an answer to a problem!" "Yes, it's you, dear. It's Glory Glorified!" laughed back the sweetvoice. Then she drew the girl's bright head down beside her. "It'sgone, dear. The Ambition out of my heart. It's passed to somebodyelse--to you, I think, Glory--yes, I'm confident! You've got it thisminute!" And Glory understood. She went away wondering if it could be truethat she, Gloria Wetherell, had a real ambition in life. "Auntie hasn't called me Disappointment for a long time, " she musedhappily, as she sped down the frosty street with the nip of keen airon her cheeks and the tonic of it in her lungs. Her mind hurried backto the knotty problem. She and the Other Girl were still at work onit that night, coming home. It happened that it had not been taken upin 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 headswere close together, and the Crosspatch Conductor smiled as he passedthem. He had been watching them with a good deal of interest for along 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 thefront. 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 excitingmoment when victory seemed in sight. Closer drew the brownheads--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 wasthis strange little place they were drawing into? Those woods, thehouses and the trees--they were not Little Douglas. "I've been carried by!" gasped Glory. "I wasn't noticing. There isn'tany 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 shehad been carried by her own station, she presented a picture ofdismay. For an instant the Other Girl stood regarding her withindecision. 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 bymine. Come with me; you will not mind much. " There was a shy pleadingin the Other Girl's tone. On the instant of offering hospitality tothis dainty new friend, and acute perception of the barrenness of itoverswept and dismayed her. In a flash she saw the patch on the seatof Tim's trousers, and instantly an array of mismatched cups, nickedplates and cracked pitchers, passed before her vision. Had the daintyGlory 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, " theOther Girl said hurriedly. Her thoughts seemed to have occupied along time, and she feared her invitation might have seemed lacking incordiality. Glory scanned her face, then said: "There isn't any train back to-night--not one. I _can't_ go back. Ifyou 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 theCrosspatch Conductor on one end of the platform. She ran toward himwrathfully. "Goodness! You _here?_" he cried. "You carried me by!" Glory cried. "I don't think it was very nice inyou!" Then she laughed at the honest dismay in his grim face. Thetrain 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 onecorner. " But Glory hesitated. "Is there any chance anywhere to telephone?" sheasked. "I've _got_ to send word to auntie. She would worry all nightlong, 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, "butit'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 shabbyjacket sleeve in the friendliest way. "And if I didn't, do yousuppose it would matter? I'd walk to a telephone that had Aunt Hopeat 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 asfast as anybody. He makes that little crutch of his do almostanything but skip. " "Skip! Oh, how I used to skip when I was little! I can remember it asplain!" "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, withtheir arms around each other. The crisp air reddened the tips oftheir 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 whilebefore she could make connections with the private wire, but shewaited 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! Ihear 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 tellDiantha. It would puff her up! Yes, I wore my rubbers. Yes, I've gotmy muffler. No, my cold's better. Take care of yourself, auntie;good-by. Oh, no, wait! You still there, auntie? Well, the reason Igot carried by was because I was so buried up in a problem. Isn'tthat funny for Glory? Good-by. " Tiny Tim met them at the door of a little brown house near thestation. His eyes widened with astonishment at sight of Glory. Thenhis 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'tlike 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 comein and stay all night, I'll promise not to eat anything but a sliceof bread and butter. We could cut a hole in that and play it was acook--" "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 wouldTimmie say next! She led the way through the tiny hall into a big, bright room whose centerpiece was a frail, smiling little woman witha 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, mydear, I am very glad you have come. I have hoped you would, eversince your path crossed Di's, and--" "Glorified it, mamma. " "Yes, glorified it--that is it. Take off your things, dear, and justfeel snug and at home. " And thus the little home opened its arms to dainty Glory. The welcomeextended was as gracious and as perfect a hospitality as could havebeen found in the grandest home in the land. There was no luxury oreven plenty. But Glory saw instantly there was the happiness thatgoes with love. It was her awakening. A new wonder filled the girl'sheart that poverty and happiness could live together like this. WhileDi 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 doorsinto their poor, bare, empty rooms and bid me welcome just asbeautifully as Aunt Hope would do to our house. It is beautiful. Justbeautiful! It's a bit of heaven right down here in this littleunpainted house. " Diantha put on a big apron and rolled up her sleeves. "I'm going outand make some muffins, " she smiled. "Timmie, you stay here. " "Yes, " said Glory, "Timmie'll stay with me. Can't we playsomething--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 herquietly. But in the sweet voice, when it spoke, there was depthlesswistfulness. "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 favoriteplay. He puts the crutch out of sight--" "This way, " cried Timmie, clattering the little crutch under the sofain 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 whileyou must look up an' say, 'Mercy me! how that child grows!'" The little play went on until supper was ready. Then the littlecrutch came out again and was put into active service. It was a strange meal to Glory. She told Aunt Hope afterward allabout 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 thetea and dried apple sauce. I had more than I could eat. But you don'tknow how I wanted to fill that pale little lady's plate with some ofour chicken and gravy and set by her plate a salad, after she'dworked all day. And pile Tiny Timmie's plate tumble-high withgoodies! It made me ashamed to think of all the beautiful suppers ofmy life that I've taken without even a 'Thank you, God. '" The two girls went to bed early and lay talking, as girls have donesince girls began. The topics of talk drifted through the differentlessons into personal subjects. "Do you know, I'm hoping!" the Other Girl burst out softly, with alittle quiver of her thin body under the quilts. "I began to lastnight. I'm going to do it right from now on. Maybe it's silly, but Iam. " "Is it a riddle?" asked Glory. "Oh, don't you understand? I thought you must, because I did! I meanI'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 theseminary I am going to Smith College some day. " "And if I pass for the eighth grade I'm going to keep right onstudying for the first grade in high-school. Miss Clem says I can. Italked 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 whenthey're doing well enough, and not fret about the other end of theroad. One never knows what's on ahead or what may happen. " "And if I ever get to be anybody, Glory Wetherell, remember it's youwho started me. " After a while the subdued chattering ceased, and the two girls fellasleep, Glory to dream that she and her new friend graduated togetherfrom the Centre Town Seminary, in beautiful twin white dresses, andthat Aunt Hope was there and clapped her thin, white hands (but theywere round and pink-tinted in the dream) when she heard Glory'svaledictory. The Other Girl's dream was of longed-for luxuries for the patientmother and legs that matched for Tiny Tim. Both dreams came to an endin a startling way. Chapter VI. Glory and Diantha were awakened from their rosy dreams by a sharpvoice calling, "Fire! Fire!" They started up in affright, only tofind little Timmie perched on the foot of the bed, cryingmonotonously, "Fire! Fire!" and interspersing his fire-alarm withbrisk drummings of his crutch against the footboard. But though hehad alarmed the girls, he himself did not look alarmed. "Fire! Fire! Fi--" "Timothy Leavitt, where is it? Tell me quick!" his sister gaspedbreathlessly. "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, buthis 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'dever 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 theygot to the station to take the train. She had the picture ofinnocent-faced Timmie still in her mind, and the monotonous drummingof his little crutch, between his alarms, in her ears. "'Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!'" she sang laughingly. "Didn't the littlescamp 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 Seminaryhad a caller in her office. It was Glory, with a pretty little air ofpleading 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 gotquite a lot to say. " "Then say it, my dear, " the Principal smiled pleasantly. "Sit down inthat chair and begin. " "Well, then--oh, Miss Sweetwater, can't my friend graduate with me? Imean, if you let me graduate--or if you _don't_ let me--I mean can'tshe graduate, anyway? She is a splendid scholar, and--and she needsto 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, andstudies just awfully at home, and I help her some going and coming onthe train. " "Oh, she is not one of the Seminary girls, then? She has never beenhere? Dear child, how do you think she can graduate if she has neverbeen 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 passthe examinations. It would mean so much to Diantha to pass. I'm sorryI troubled you, Miss Sweetwater--I didn't know. " But the kind-hearted Principal detained Glory and drew out the wholewistful little story of the Other Girl. At the end, she said, "I amglad to know of her. Such a girl must be encouraged. I will keepmindful 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 shecan ever get to earning. It seems as though almost anyone could learnif they had a mother to help, and a Tiny Tim. There's an Aunt Hope. Ican do it for her. I'm glad I've got to work. And thanks to Di, I donot 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-callsoverhead. 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. TheCrosspatch Conductor took note of the two brown heads bent over thebook and wondered behind his grim mask. "What is it, anyhow?" he asked one day, late in the spring, stoppingbefore them in the aisle. The two pairs of eyes met his laughingly. "Oh--things. Splendidthings!" Glory said. "Certificates and diplomas some day, and sickfolks with glad faces, and little boys with twin legs! Isn't thatenough to 'pay'?" "Umph!" the Crosspatch Conductor muttered in his beard, and strode ondown the aisle. But he beckoned Glory aside that night on the hometrip and questioned her about the Other Girl. Glory told him thewhole 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! Idon'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 Imight have a little, at first. " The conductor put his big hand on Glory's shoulder with a touch aslight and caressing as that of a woman. "You're the right kind, both o' you, " he said. "It never comes amissto help anybody. I've half a mind to try a little of it myself. Seehere, don't you tell her and go to raising hopes, but it kind ofseems to me as though I knew a place where she could teach rightaway. 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 whocan never go outdoors and get the sunshine, and all that, nowwouldn'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, 'causefortunes ain't found like hazel nuts, growing on bushes. But it oughtto pay her pretty tolerable. I'm sure enough about the boy;" and asad look came into the conductor's eyes. "He hasn't any mother, yousee, and it's pretty hard for the little chap. " "Is he your boy?" asked Glory, putting her little hand on theconductor's sleeve and looking sympathetically up into the graveeyes. The conductor nodded. "He's mine, and his grandmother says he oughtto be learning things--poor Dan! That girl over there wouldn't be avery 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 hecouldn't go out into the sunshine, and he wanted to learn, I'd ratherhave Diantha's little finger to help him with than the whole of somefolks. You don't know Di. " The conductor laughed. "I guess I haven't been watching you two thiswinter without finding out something, " he said, his eyes holding atwinkle. Then the old, gruff manner came back to him and he addedbrusquely, "But there, don't you go to countin' the chickens beforethey're hatched. I'll have to talk with grandma first; maybe she'drather have a sort of circumspect person. " "But your Danny wouldn't--you said his name was Dan, " said Glory, herface one sea of dimples, and her eyes like diamonds. "'Most seems asif a little boy who couldn't go out in the sunshine ought to have theone he'd like best with him. He wouldn't care much for a--acircumspect person, would he?" asked Glory, a merry twinkle in hereyes. "There now, you go along!" said the conductor, laughing in spite ofhimself. But Glory did not "go along" until she had caught the big hand andsqueezed it between her soft little palms as it was extended to helpher 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 criedwhen she had unfolded the beautiful plan at which the conductor hadhinted. "But you mustn't set your heart on it, Glory. The grandmother may notthink that so young a girl will do for the boy. " "She will when she sees Diantha, auntie--I am just sure of it. Di isso strong and helpful, and so cheery, and so full of courage, andnever thinks of herself, but always of others. " "Well, dear, we will leave it in the good Father's hands, and justask 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 twofaces close together on the sofa pillows. "Auntie, you haven't called me 'Little Disappointment' this ever solong, " 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 theirfeeble, loving clasp. "Dear child, did I ever call you that? Are yousure? Well, I shall never do it again, dear, as long as we twainshall 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 insoftly. They could hear the solemn tick-tock of the clock across theroom. It was the same clock that used to say reproachful things toGlory when she was a little child and had been naughty. Once she hadclimbed on a chair and stopped its accusing tongue, because she couldnot bear it any longer. It was talking to Glory now, and she couldnot make it say anything but "Dear--child! dear--child!" over andover, 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 TownSeminary, Glory had another of her "ideas, " and of course she carriedit to Aunt Hope. "Why not?" she said, when she had introduced it to her. "It would belike 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 ifDiantha 'played graduate' with me. The teacher wouldn't care if shesat with me down on the end seat. I don't believe she ever had awhite 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, " Glorysaid simply. "I'd like to have her close when I'm there getting readyto read. " And so it came about that graduation day found the Other Girl besideGlory, in a beautiful white dress that lay about her in soft, sheerfolds. The Other Girl's face above it was shining and rapt. This wasalmost like graduating herself. On the other side of Glory sat TinyTim, in the conscious pride of his best suit. There was no littlecrutch 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 theOther 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 wassilent a moment, and then his little whispering voice again, thistime to Glory: "Say, isn't this just splendid! I'm playin', an' Di's playin'. You'rethe 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 wasfull of a blast of jubilant music. When it was all over, the three went back to Little Douglas togetheron 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 itshyly, as if she had not had time to get very well acquainted withit. "To think this is a diploma with Gloria Wetherell in Latin insideit!" she cried. "To think this is a beautiful white dress with _me_ inside!" answeredthe Other Girl. "Do you know--oh, do you _know_, it doesn't smell ofrubber at all? There isn't a whiff about it; it's just sweet anddainty and--_other-folksy_. " On the train the Crosspatch Conductor drew Glory aside a moment. Hiseyes rested first on the parchment roll. "Got it, didn't you? Good! Well, I've got it too. She'sconsented--grandma has. I've told her all about the other one, andwhat you said, and it's going to be all right. We won't tell her yetuntil 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 believeI ever can keep it. To think she'll leave that old rubber factory andbe in a nice, pleasant home all the time, and help her folks, and behaving 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. "ButI can't keep it very long--you mustn't expect me to. " The conductor laughed. "All right--all right. I'll get grandma towrite. I've got her address. One of the men down at the factory toldme a good deal about her. There are many ways of finding out aboutfolks 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 GloriaWetherell could have been found in all that region. As to the Other Girl, her heart nearly burst with its weight ofhappiness when she found out what was in store for her. "It's Glory's doings. She has just glorified my whole life, andhelped me to find the rainbow. And Timmie!--won't I find a rainbowfor him too, bless him! And some day his legs shall be twins, ifworking can do it. "