."

"I wish I could do things like that," sighed Gyp longingly. "I hate just
doing the regular sort of things that everyone else is doing."

Jerry regarded her in astonishment; that Gyp might, perhaps, envy her
the childhood she had had on Kettle had never occurred to her!

"Perhaps sometime you can visit me in Sunnyside." Her eyes shone at the
thought. "Don't you love poetry?" She read again:

"If 'chance the radiant sun with farewell sweet
Extend his ev'ning beam, the fields revive,
The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds
Attest their joy, that hill and valley ring----

"It's like that--at sunset--in the Witches' Glade," Jerry said slowly.
She closed the book. "I think Peter Westley must have had something nice
in him to like this. There used to be an old, old lady who lived in a
funny little house in the Notch; I always pretended she was old Mother
Hubbard who lived in the cupboard. Jimmy Chubb used to throw apples at
her roof to make her run out and chase him. But her garden was the
loveliest anywhere around--mother used to beg seeds from her. And she'd
talk to her flowers--sometimes when we'd hide behind the hedge next door
to her house we'd hear her. And mother said that there must be something
lovely in her soul if she cared so much for flowers. Perhaps that's the
way it was with your Uncle Peter and his books."

Gyp frowned as though she was trying very hard to think this possible.
She lifted a huge Bible and dusted it thoughtfully with her
handkerchief.

"I don't know--I heard Uncle Johnny say once to my father that Uncle
Peter was as hard as rocks when it came to driving a bargain and he'd
never give a cent to anyone. Mother said that riches that came like that
only brought unhappiness and she was sorry we had any of it, though----"
Gyp laughed. "Money's funny. It wouldn't matter how much of an allowance
father gave Graham or me we'd never have any and I don't know where it
goes. And Isobel always has a lot. Maybe she's going to be like Uncle
Peter----" There was horror in Gyp's voice.

Jerry sat on the table, the huge Bible on her knees. Her eyes stared out
through the dusty window-glass.

"She wouldn't be _like_ him because _she_ won't have to work hard to get
the money the way he did! Mother says----" Jerry had a way of saying
"mother says" as though it was precious, indisputable wisdom. "Mother
says that sometimes when a person sets his heart on just one thing in
this wor