"Oh, what an awful story!" said Polly, "it made me feel like shivering,
and I was glad the boys were with us."
"If Gwen Harcourt likes to tell such stories, she can," said Leslie,
"but she needn't say they're true."
"Oh, but perhaps SOME of it---" Polly stopped. She had meant to speak
kindly, but what part of so silly a story could be true?
"You've been in her parlor, Leslie," said Harry, "did YOU see the
picture with the big hole in it, just where the fine lady stepped out
from the frame? Leslie, HAVE you?"
"Yes," admitted Leslie, "I've been there."
"WAS the big picture with the big hole in it hanging there?" he asked.
"N--NO!" said Leslie, "and I'll tell you all something. A lady that mama
knows heard some of Gwen's stories, and she told Mrs. Harcourt what
perfectly awful things Gwen was telling, and Mrs. Harcourt said that she
was very glad, and thankful that Gwen had such great imagination, and
said she wouldn't, for the world do anything to check it, because it's a
SURE sign she'll be something fine some day.
"Mrs. Harcourt said it was just wonderful what a strong imagination Gwen
had, and she said she thought she would be either an author, or a play
writer, or something great."
"And papa, when he heard that, said he'd want to be careful lest she
grow up to be an awful liar!" said Harry.
"Oh, hush!" said Leslie, "papa said falsifier or some name like that."
"Well, that's the same thing," said Harry.
The little friends talked of Gwen, and the stories that she told.
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