"Yes,yes,"he answered,"but don't you see?That was telling you about something inside of me that made all my hours sunshiny ones.Now,what you want is something inside of you to make yours sunshiny,too.Don't you see?"An odd look came into Miss Holbrook's eyes.
"That's all very well for you to say,David,but you haven't told me yet,you know,just what it is that's made all this brightness for you."The boy changed his position,and puckered his forehead into a deeper frown.
"I don't seem to explain so you can understand,"he sighed."It isn't the SPECIAL thing.It's only that it's SOMETHING.And it's thinking about it that does it.Now,mine wouldn't make yours shine,but--still,"--he broke off,a happy relief in his eyes,--"yours could be LIKE mine,in one way.Mine is something that is going to happen to me--something just beautiful;and you could have that,you know,--something that was going to happen to you,to think about."Miss Holbrook smiled,but only with her lips,Her eyes had grown somber.
"But there isn't anything 'just beautiful'going to happen to me,David,"she demurred.
"There could,couldn't there?"
Miss Holbrook bit,her lip;then she gave an odd little laugh that seemed,in some way,to go with the swift red that had come to her cheeks.
"I used to think there could--once,"she admitted;"but I've given that up long ago.It--it didn't happen.""But couldn't you just THINK it was going to?"persisted the boy."You see I found out yesterday that it's the THINKING that does it.All day long I was thinking--only thinking.I wasn't DOING it,at all.I was really raking behind the cart;but the hours all were sunny."Miss Holbrook laughed now outright.
"What a persistent little mental-science preacher you are!"she exclaimed."And there's truth--more truth than you know--in it all,too.But I can't do it,David,--not that--not that.'T would take more than THINKING--to bring that,"she added,under her breath,as if to herself.
"But thinking does bring things,"maintained David earnestly.
"There's Joe--Joe Glaspell.His mother works out all day;and he's blind.""Blind?Oh-h!"shuddered Miss Holbrook.
"Yes;and he has to stay all alone,except for Betty,and she is n't there much.He THINKS ALL his things.He has to.He can't SEEanything with his outside eyes.But he sees everything with his inside eyes--everything that I play.Why,Lady of the Roses,he's even seen this--all this here.I told him about it,you know,right away after I'd found you that first day:the big trees and the long shadows across the grass,and the roses,and the shining water,and the lovely marble people peeping through the green leaves;and the sundial,and you so beautiful sitting here in the middle of it all.Then I played it for him;and he said he could see it all just as plain!And THAT was with his inside eyes!And so,if Joe,shut up there in his dark little room,can make his THINK bring him all that,I should think that YOU,here in this beautiful,beautiful place,could make your think bring you anything you wanted it to."But Miss Holbrook sighed again and shook her head.
"Not that,David,not that,"she murmured."It would take more than thinking to bring--that."Then,with a quick change of manner,she cried:"Come,come,suppose we don't worry any more about MY hours.Let's think of yours.Tell me,what have you been doing since I saw you last?Perhaps you have been again to--to see Mr.Jack,for instance.""I have;but I saw Jill mostly,till the last."David hesitated,then he blurted it out:"Lady of the Roses,do you know about the gate and the footbridge?"Miss Holbrook looked up quickly.
"Know--what,David?"
"Know about them--that they're there?"
"Why--yes,of course;at least,I suppose you mean the footbridge that crosses the little stream at the foot of the hill over there.""That's the one."Again David hesitated,and again he blurted out the burden of his thoughts."Lady of the Roses,did you ever--cross that bridge?"Miss Holbrook stirred uneasily.
"Not--recently."
"But you don't MIND folks crossing it?"
"Certainly not--if they wish to."
"There!I knew 't wasn't your blame,"triumphed David.
"MY blame!"
"Yes;that Mr.Jack wouldn't let Jill come across,you know.He called her back when she'd got halfway over once."Miss Holbrook's face changed color.
"But I do object,"she cried sharply,"to their crossing it when they DON'T want to!Don't forget that,please.""But Jill did want to."
"How about her brother--did he want her to?"
"N--no."
"Very well,then.I didn't,either."
David frowned.Never had he seen his beloved Lady of the Roses look like this before.He was reminded of what Jill had said about Jack:"His face was all stern and white,and his lips snapped tight shut after every word."So,too,looked Miss Holbrook's face;so,too,had her lips snapped tight shut after her last words.David could not understand it.He said nothing more,however;but,as was usually the case when he was perplexed,he picked up his violin and began to play.And as he played,there gradually came to Miss Holbrook's eyes a softer light,and to her lips lines less tightly drawn.Neither the footbridge nor Mr.Jack,however,was mentioned again that afternoon.
