"But that doesn't help me any," said Marjorie. "It hasn't any business to be always getting around in the way."
"It does mess up the landscape considerably," said the Dream.
Marjorie sighed. "I suppose," she said, "that I've got to learn to just simply walk all over that mole-hill in order to get it into its proper proportion. There isn't any other way, is there?" she asked, rather anxiously.
"Only one," said the Dream.
"And what is that?"
"To try to see everything else as so big and wonderful and full of opportunities, that you forget all about the 'Me' mole-hill; and then it will shrink away until you will never notice it in the picture at all."
"I wonder if I could," said Marjorie thoughtully.
Just then they reached a crossing of ways, and the girl and the little child turned to follow a new trail, after bidding Marjorie good-bye, lovingly; and Marjorie felt the lingering touch of the small fingers about her own for a long way down the path, as she walked slowly on beside the Dream.
A little way farther on they came to a turn in the trail, and there, just beyond, in the shade of a big clump of mango trees, Marjorie saw a number of groups of girls of her own age, talking and laughing and seeming to be having a very good time. As Marjorie approached, several of them saw her and some of them beckoned to her to join them.
