Envy possessed her, but Annie Eustace did not recognise envy when she saw it.
Annie went on in her sweet ringing voice, almost producing the effect of a song.

She was so happy, and so pleased to think that she was making her friend happy.
"Yes," she said, "I wrote it.

I wrote _The Poor Lady_." "If," said Margaret, "you speak quite so loud, you will be heard by others." Annie lowered her voice immediately with a startled look.

"Oh," she whispered.

"I would not have anybody hear me for anything." "How did you manage ?" asked Margaret.
Annie laughed happily.