The things we do!

"I noticed you didn't," said Freckles softly. "I don't know much about
it, but it seems as if most girls would."
The Angel thought intently, while Freckles still knelt beside her.
Suddenly she gave herself an impatient little shake, lifted her glorious
eyes full to his, and the smile that swept her sweet, young face was the
loveliest thing that Freckles ever had seen.
"Don't let's bother about it," she proposed, with the faintest hint of
a confiding gesture toward him. "It won't make a scar. Why, it couldn't,
when you have dressed it so nicely."
The velvety touch of her warm arm was tingling in Freckles' fingertips.
Dainty lace and fine white ribbon peeped through her torn dress. There
were beautiful rings on her fingers. Every article she wore was of
the finest material and in excellent taste. There was the trembling
Limberlost guard in his coarse clothing, with his cotton rags and
his old pail of swamp water. Freckles was sufficiently accustomed to
contrasts to notice them, and sufficiently fine to be hurt by them
always.


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