Everything Is Made Out Of Magic, Leaves

At That Moment A Very Good Thing Was Happening To Her. Four Good Things Had Happened To Her, In Fact, Since She Came To Misselthwaite Manor. She Had Felt As If She Had Understood A Robin And That He Had Understood Her; She Had Run In The Wind Until Her Blood Had Grown Warm; She Had Been Healthily Hungry For The First Time In Her Life; And She Had Found Out What It Was To Be Sorry For Someone.

Perhaps I Have Not Really A Good Temper At All, But If You Have Everything You Want And Everyone Is Kind To You, How Can You Help But Be Good-tempered? Perhaps I'm A Hideous Child, And No One Will Ever Know, Just Because I Never Have Any Trials.

Imagine, If You Can, What The Rest Of The Evening Was Like. How They Crouched By The Fire Which Blazed And Leaped And Made Much Of Itself In The Little Grate. How They Removed The Covers Of The Dishes, And Found Rich, Hot Savory Soup, Which Was A Meal In Itself, And Sandwiches And Toast And Muffins Enough For Both Of Them.

Things Happen To People By Accident.

That's What I Look At Some People For. I Like To Know About Them. I Think Them Over Afterward.