Judy went on: "I know what," she announced.
"What?" He was not particularly interested, it seemed.
Judy paused. She dropped a little behind her dancing Aunt. Tim joined
her. It all happened as quickly as a man might snap his fingers; Aunt
Emily, her heart full of growing ferns, noticed nothing.
"We've found her out!" whispered Judy, communicating her immense
discovery. "What she really is, I mean!"
He agreed and nodded. It did not strike him as anything wonderful or
special. "Oh, yes," he answered; "rather!" He did not grasp her
meaning, perhaps.
But his sister was bursting with excitement, radiant, shivering almost
with the wonder of it.
"But don't you see? It's--a sign!" she exclaimed so loud that Aunt
Emily almost heard it. "She's found herself! She was hiding--from
herself. That's part of it all--the game. It's the biggest sign of
all!"
She was so "warm" that she burned all over.
"Oh, yes," repeated Tim. "I see!" But he was not particularly
impressed. He merely wanted his Aunt to find an enormous fern whose
roots were growing in the sweet, sticky earth _he_ loved. Her sign was
a fern; his was the ground.
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