“Of course.  Won’t he be cunning in my aquarium?” asked Gladys, returning her look triumphantly.

“Yes.”  Vera was in bed, also, and to please the child, Ellen stooped and kissed the doll’s forehead, too.  “God be good,” she said gently, “to the poor little girl who gets everything she wants!”

A few minutes after the light was out and Ellen had gone, Gladys pulled Vera nearer to her.  “Wasn’t that a silly sort of thing for Ellen to say?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” returned Vera.

Gladys drew back.  “Did you answer me?” she said.

“Certainly I did.”

“Then you really can talk!” exclaimed Gladys joyfully.

“At night I can,” said Vera.

“Oh, I’m so glad.  I’m so glad!” and Gladys hugged her.

“I’m not so sure that you will be,” returned Vera coolly.

“Why not?”

“Because I have to speak the truth.  You know my name is Vera.”

“Well, I should hope so.  Did you suppose I wouldn’t want you to speak the truth?” Gladys laughed.

“Yes.  You don’t hear it very often, and you may not like it.”

“Why, what a thing to say!”

“Ellen tries, sometimes, but you won’t listen.”

Gladys kept still and her companion proceeded: 

“She knows all the toys and books and clothes and pets that you have at home, and she sees you forgetting all of them because Faith has just one thing pretty enough for you to wish for.”

By this time Gladys had found her tongue.  “You’re just as impolite as you can be, Vera!” she exclaimed.

“Of course.  You always think people are impolite who tell you the truth; but I explained to you that I have to.  Who was impolite when you rocked the boat, although Ernest asked you not to?”

“He was as silly as he could be to think there was any danger.  Don’t you suppose I know enough not to rock it too far?  And then think how impolite he was to say right out that he would save Faith instead of me if we fell into the water.  I can tell you my father would lock him up in prison if he didn’t save me.”

“Well, you aren’t so precious to anybody else,” returned Vera.  “Why would people want a girl around who thinks only of herself and what she wants.  I’m sure Faith and Ernest will draw a long breath when you get on the cars to go back.”

“Oh, I don’t believe they will,” returned Gladys, ready to cry.

“What have you done to make them glad you came?  You didn’t bring them anything, although you knew they couldn’t have many toys, and it was because you were so busy thinking how much lovelier your doll was than anything Faith could have.  Then the minute Faith found one nice thing”—­

“Don’t say that again,” interrupted Gladys.  “You’ve said it once.”

“You behaved so disagreeably that she had to give it to you.”

“You have no right to talk so.  The prince came up from the brook, Faith said so.”