"And it won't be long until they're gone--for good."

"Cheer up, honest woman," cried Pearl gaily, "you havn't even lost
either Teddy or me, and we're the eldest. It looks to me as if you
will have a noisy house for quite a while yet, and I wouldn't begin to
worry over anything so far away--in fact, ma, it's a good rule not to
worry till you have to, and don't do it then!"

Pearl was bringing back "the room" to the state of tidiness it enjoyed
during school hours, moving about with joyous haste, yet with strict
attention to every detail, which did not escape her mother's eye.

"It's grand to be as light of heart as you are, Pearlie child," she
said, "I'm often afraid for you--when I think of all the sad things in
life and you so sure that everything will happen right. It is to them
that the world is brightest that the darkest days can come, and the
lightest heart sometimes has heaviest mournin'."

A little wither of disappointment went over Pearl's bright face, but
she shook it off impatiently. She wished her mother would not talk
like this on this day--of all days.

"Don't spoil a good day, ma, with sad talk. Look out at the Spring sun
there, and the cattle, even the wild ones from the range, with their
sides steaming and then nosing around so happy now, for getting all
about the bad times they had even as late as last evening. There's
no use telling them there's cold days coming--they wouldn't believe
now--and anyway they'll know soon enough. Isn't it best to let every
one have their sunny day--without a cloud on it."