Hunter's Marjory / A Story for Girls

My dear child, what is wrong?
TOMAS NELSON AND SONS London, Edinburgh, Dublin, and New York 1907
Inconsistency in spelling and punctuation is as in the original.

A maid whom there were none to praise, And very few to love. —Wordsworth.
Marjory was lying under a tree in the wood beyond her uncle's garden; her head was hidden in the long, soft coat of a black retriever, and she was crying—sobbing bitterly as if her heart would break, and as if nothing could ever comfort her again.
O Silky, she moaned, if you only knew, you would be so sorry for me.
The faithful dog knew that something very serious was the matter with his young mistress, but he could only lick her hands and wag his tail as well as he was able with her weight upon his body.
A fresh burst of grief shook the girl; and Silky, puzzled by this unusual behaviour on Marjory's part, began to make little low whines himself. Suddenly the whines were changed to growls, the dog shook himself free from the girl's clasping arms and stood erect, staring into the wood beyond.
Marjory was too much overcome by her grief to notice Silky's doings, and it was not until she heard a voice quite close to her saying, You poor little thing, what is the matter? that she realized that she was not alone.