It was very, very quiet, quieter than any place Elizabeth Ann had ever
known, except church, because a trolley-line ran past Aunt Harriet's
house and even at night there were always more or less hangings and
rattlings. Here there was not a single sound except the soft, whispery
noise when Aunt Abigail turned over a page as she read steadily and
silently forward in her book. Elizabeth Ann turned her head so that she
could see the round, rosy old face, full of soft wrinkles, and the calm,
steady old eyes which were fixed on the page. And as she lay there in
the warm bed, watching that quiet face, something very queer began to
happen to Elizabeth Ann. She felt as though a tight knot inside her were
slowly being untied. She felt--what was it she felt? There are no words
for it. From deep within her something rose up softly ... she drew one or
two long, half-sobbing breaths ... .
[Illustration: "Do you know," said Aunt Abigail, "I think it's going to
be real nice, having a little girl in the house again."]
Aunt Abigail laid down her book and looked over at the child. "Do you
know," she said, in a conversational tone, "do you know, I think it's
going to be real nice, having a little girl in the house again."
Oh, then the tight knot in the little unwanted girl's heart was loosened
indeed! It all gave way at once, and Elizabeth Ann burst suddenly into
hot tears--yes, I know I said I would not tell you any more about her
crying; but these tears were very different from any she had ever shed
before.
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