e the courage to vote against her because
you were so eager to have her join."

"And then you got sorry as you always do."

"No, don't give me too much credit! I got ashamed when I compared my
conduct with others; but you were unselfish--you didn't stop to
consider the disadvantages to yourself. You only thought of her."

While Laura, with reddened cheeks, disclaimed this with as much
earnestness as if taxed with a crime, Ivy went on unheeding:

"I thought it over this morning when I took out my Sunset Book, and
instead of writing down what we saw from the tower window--which no one
_could_ describe, no painter nor poet that ever lived, glimpses of
glory that God lets shine down, sometimes, when the Pearly Gate is
opened just a narrow chink (to let some little white angel in perhaps)
and the clouds reflect it, just as the river does the trees, you
know--well, I wrote this instead!"

Laura took the precious book and perused it seriously.

"May I keep it and read it to Alene? I know she'd enjoy it!"

Ivy demurred, but at last consented and on Laura's next meeting with
Alene she brought forth a green paper-covered copy-book and, with a few
preliminary remarks, proceeded to read:

"'Once upon a time--'"

"It begins all right, anyway," interrupted Alene, settling herself
comfortably against a tree, and half closing her eyes, as if to hear
the better.

"'Once upon a time,'" Laura's voice went on, "'I wandered far away
until I came to a narrow path, on one side of which was a beautiful
garden blooming with flowers and fruit, with gay birds skimming through
the air, while on the other side the grass and flowers lay withered,
the trees leaned over, leafless and dead, and perched in their branches
were mute, broken-winged birds. I went on until I came to the Witch of
the Woods, who stood leaning on her hazel staff, with her red cloak
wrapped around her, and her long, silvery hair falling, tangled, en her
shoulders.

"'What ails the little maiden that she looks so puzzled? Perhaps I can
smooth the wrinkles from her brow!' she said in a harsh, cracked voice.

"'Oh, wise woman!' I cried, for I felt so badly about what I had seen
that I never thought of being afraid--'please tell me the mystery of
the blighted garden!'

"'My child, you have come through the Garden of Good Intentions--on one
side are those which never came to blossom but died in the bud, whilst
on the other are those which sprouted and grew and bl