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!"