en a long
way off. Why doesn't somebody point out the 'sights'? That big stone
building, now--"

"The library," said Uncle Em, and again Gloria's sweet-toned laugh
rippled out.

"I don't care, it looks different! I believe it's _grown_. And that
block of brick houses--did I ever see that before?"

"You took music lessons in it every week for two years, my dear,"
remarked Aunt Em, gently prosaic.

"Oh, I suppose so, in another age! I've never seen it in this one. This
is the Golden Age!"

Passing the hospital they saw Sal. She was sunning herself with other
convalescents before the door. Her childlike face expressed only calm.
She gazed at them, unsmiling.

"Oh, yes, she is about well," an attendant volunteered, "but we can't
bear to send her home. She's having such a good time in her way. No, she
will never be any different. It was hoped she might be."

"Sal!" Gloria called gently, "I'm going to No. 80 Pleasant Street. Do
you want to send a message?"

"Number Eighty?" Sal repeated slowly.

"Yes, where mother is, Sal. Shall I take a message to your mother for
you?"

"Tell her I ain't been beat once--not nary."

Pleasant Street was still "Treeless Street," to Gloria's regret. And
they passed the same dreary succession of tenements. The same old little
children played in the street. But at Dinney's House Gloria's eyes
shone.

"Oh, Uncle Em! New windows, new steps, new everything!" She was helped
gently down, and Rose was there to greet her. How happy Rose looked!
And there was Sal's mother in the background, and then came Dinney and
Hunkie.

"Ain't it fine!" cried Dinney. Gloria looked at the boy and laughed.
"Look at the new stairs!"

They took her here and there, then made her rest a moment in Rose's
room.

But it was not for long that Gloria was allowed to linger even in her
own house. Her eyes were growing tired, and Aunt Em pressed forward
solicitously.

"Yes, yes, now for the dessert, Uncle Em!" said Gloria. She was helped
back to the carriage, and then they drove through streets with trees
bright in their September dress. At last Gloria bowed her head and
pressed her fingers over her eyes.

"You say, Uncle Em, there is green grass at the new house, and trees?"

"Trees," answered Uncle Em.

The girl still had her head bowed and her fingers pressed upon her eyes.

"I used to shut my eyes as I am shutting them now, Uncle Em, when I
wanted to open them just at a right place. You count three