But they were idle now.

One glance showed Mary that the letter, whosever it was, had brought unusual news.
Joyce sat on the door-step with it in her lap and her hands clasped over her knees.

Mrs.Ware, leaning back in her sewing-chair, was opening and shutting a pair of scissors in an absent-minded manner, as if her thoughts were a thousand miles away.
"Well, it's good news, anyway," was Mary's first thought, as she glanced at her sister's radiant face.

"She wouldn't look so pretty if it wasn't.
It's a pity she can't be hearing good news all the time.

When her eyes shine like that, she's almost beautiful.