that it was painful to see her. I could not help being hurt; for you
know what Bell is--brimful of nonsense and sparkle and bright
speeches, but just as open as the day and as warm as the sunshine.
If she could have been spoiled, we should have turned her head long
ago; but she hasn't a bit of silly vanity, and I never met any one
before who didn't see the pretty charm of her brightness and
goodness--did you?

And yet, somehow, Laura sticks needles into her every time she
speaks. She feels them, too, but it only makes her quiet, for she is
too proud and sensitive to resent it. I can see that she is
different in her ways, as if she felt she was being criticised.
Polly is quite the reverse. If anybody hurts her feelings she makes
creation scream, and I admire her courage.

Aunt Truth doesn't know anything about all this, for Laura is a
different girl when she is with her or Dr. Paul; not that she is
deceitful, but that she is honestly anxious for their good opinion.
You remember Aunt Truth's hobby that we should never defend ourselves
by attacking any one else, and none of us would ever complain, if we
were hung, drawn, and quartered.

Laura was miffed at having to play Audrey, but we didn't know that
she could come until the last moment, and we were going to leave that
part out.

'I don't believe you appreciate my generosity in taking this
thankless part,' she said to Bell, when we were rehearsing. 'Nobody
would ever catch you playing second fiddle, my dear. All leading
parts reserved for Miss Winship, by order of the authors, I suppose.'