"It was," says Nicholas, feeling a reply can no longer be shirked. Then he says, "Ahem!" and turns his glance confidingly upon the carpet.,
It is ten days later. The air is growing brisker, the flowers bear no new buds. More leaves are falling on the woodland paths, and the trees are throwing out their last bright autumn tints of red and brown and richest orange, that tell all too plainly of the death that lies before them.,
"It is the sweetest thing that could have happened," says Dorothy, enthusiastically. "Now Mona and you and I will be real sisters.".
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