"I'm not worried, Mother. Really, darling, I'm not worried. I thought you were cross with me."
Now she was crying and being petted.
"I don't know why I'm crying. Oh, I'm so foolish! Why am I crying? Are you cross with me?"
"Pauline, what is the matter? Have you had a quarrel with Guy?"
"Good gracious, no! What makes you ask that? We had an exquisite walk, and the sunset was wonderful, oh, so wonderful! And we picked ragged-robins—great bunches of them. Only I forgot to bring them home. How stupid of me! Monica and Margaret aren't angry with me, are they? They were so cold at dinner. Why were they? Mother, I do love you so. You do understand me, don't you? You do sympathize with love? Mother, I do love you so."
When Pauline was in bed her mother fetched Margaret and Monica, who both came and kissed her good night and asked what could have given her the idea that they were angry with her.
"You foolish little thing, go to sleep," said Monica.
"You mustn't let your being in love with Guy spoil the Rectory," said Margaret. "Because, you know, the Rectory is so much, much better than anything else in the world."
Her mother and sisters left her, going gently from the room as if she were already asleep.
Pauline read for a while from Guy's green volume of Blake; then taking from under her pillow the crystal ring, she put it on her third finger and blew out the light.