"Pauline, when you are to blame, you shouldn't say such unkind things about Monica."
"I have to say what I think sometimes," Pauline replied, rebelliously.
"And as for Guy," Mrs. Grey went on, "I am astonished at his thoughtlessness. I can't understand how he could dream of letting you come into his house. I can't understand it."
"Yes, but why shouldn't I go in?" Pauline persisted. "Darling Mother, you go on being angry with me, but you don't tell me why I shouldn't go in."
"Can't you understand what the Wychford people might think?"
"Well, I sha'n't say any more about it," Mrs. Grey decided. "But you must promise me never, never to do such a foolish thing again."
"I'll promise you never to go to Guy's house," said Pauline. "But I can't promise never to do foolish things when such perfectly ordinary things are called foolish."
Mrs. Grey looked helplessly round her, but as neither of her two elder daughters was present she had nothing to say; and Pauline, who thought that all the fuss was due to nothing but Monica's unwarranted interference, had nothing to say, either; so they walked along the herbaceous borders, each with a demeanor of reproach for the other's failure to understand. The snapdragons lolled upon the sun with gold-bloomed anthers, and drank more and still more color until they were drenched beyond the deepest dyes of crimson, extinguishing the paler hues of rose and chrome which yet at moth-time would show like lamps when the others had dulled in the discouragement of twilight.
"You mustn't think anything more about it," said her mother, after a long pause. "I'm sure it was only heedlessness. I don't think you can say I'm too strict with you and Guy. Really, you know, you ought to have had a very happy June. You've been together nearly all the time."