| Description |
One day, when their friendship was established, Clarissa confided to Amy her greatest fear-being alone in the dark. "Born Knight, and afraid of the dark?" Amy had chided. But Clarissa had been too serious to joke. She had asked to borrow Amy's six year old daughter, Charlotte, to sleep at the school so she wouldn't be alone. Amy had readily agreed. Clarissa had been surprised. "Aren't you afraid I'll corrupt her? I may make her a Protestant." "On the contrary, Clarissa. Perhaps she'll convert you. Out of the mouths of babes. . ." Amy remebered that conversation as she neared Clarissa's porch. Exactly as she had expected, there had been no conver- sions. She stepped on the first squeaky board of the porch. had opened it and stood in the frame. That squeak is like an alarm to her, Amy thought. Clarissa opened the door for Amy. Amy smiled at the pinched features of her friend. "Beautiful morning, isn't it, Clarissa?" she looked into the gray eyes. "I hope you slept well." "Yes, yes thank you. I sleep much better with Charlotte here." "Is Charlotte awake yet?" "Certainly," came Clarissa's soft quavery voice. Then louder. "Charlotte, your mother is here for you." Amy set her basket of eggs and the empty honey jar on a table. She untied her bonnet and laid it on a chair. Charlotte skipped from the bedroom. "Eggs!" she exclaimed. "I bet you want me to take them to the store for you, Momma." "Charlotte!" Clarissa's voice was stern. "Ladies never bet!" Amy laughed. "Yes, dear. You must exchange them for honey. Take the jar with you. But put on your bonnet first." - 10 - |
