have them if they live long enough. But you'd never think Miss Katherine
had one, she's so glad and cheerful and busy all the time. I wonder if
it's a sweetheart remembrance? I know three of her beaux; one in
Yorkburg and two from away, who have been to see her frequent times; but
a beau is different from a sweetheart. I'm sure that look means
something secret, and I bet it's a man. Who is he? I don't know. I wish
he was dead. I do!

When I first came back from the hospital my little old sticks of legs
wouldn't hold me up, and down I would go. But I didn't mind that. I just
minded not going to sleep at night. But sleep wouldn't come, and I'd
get so wide awake trying to make it that I began to have a teeny bit of
fever again, and then it was Miss Katherine asked if she might take me
in her room. I was nervous and still needed attention, she said,
and--magnificent gloriousness!--I was sent to her room to stay until
perfectly well, and I'm here yet. Perfectly well because I am here!

That first night when I got into the little white bed next to her bed,
and knew she was going to be there beside me, I couldn't go to sleep
right off. I kept wishing I was King David, so I could write a book of
gratitudes and psalms and praises, and that was the first night I ever
really prayed right. I didn't ask for a thing except for help to be
worth it--the trouble she was taking for just little me, a charity
child. Just me!

And oh, the difference in her room and the room I had left! She had had
it painted and papered herself, for it hadn't been used since kingdom
come, and the cobwebs in it would have filled a barrel. It had been a
packing-room, and when Miss Katherine first saw it she just whistled
soft and easy; but when she was through, it was just a dream.