“Why?—Child, come here.” And as Agatha knelt by the sofa, Miss Valery leaned over her, twisting her curls and stroking down the lids over her brown eyes in the babyish, fondling ways which all good people can condescend to at times, especially when recovering from sickness.
“She is a foolish child! Did she fancy nobody loved her? Did she think everybody believed she was wicked (and so she was, now and then, very wicked). Does she suppose nobody sees her poor little goodnesses? Oh, but they do! They will find all out without my telling. It is best to leave things alone.”
“You must not speak; it will do you harm.”
“Not thus whispering. Nay, lay the head down again. Imagine it only a little bird in the air talking to my child. Some kind of characters—I once knew the like well!”—and Anne's whisper came through a half sigh—“are very proud and jealous over the thing they love. They cannot bear a breath to rest on it, or to go from it to any other than themselves. They are very silent, too; would die rather than complain. They are strong-willed and secret—and as for persuading them to anything against their will, you might as well attempt to cleave with your little hand to the heart of a great oak. You must shine over it, and rain softly on it, and cling close round it, and it will take you into its arms, and support you safe, and hang you all round with beautiful leaves. But you must always remember that it is a noble forest-oak, and that you are only its dews, or its sunshine, or its ivy garland. You must never attempt to come between it and the skies.”
Anne ceased. Agatha looked up with moistened eyelids.
“I understand; I will try—if you will stay with me. I cannot do anything right without you.”
Anne smiled. “Poor little Agatha! Not even with the help of her husband?”
“My husband! Oh, teach me to be a good wife, such a wife as you would have been—as you may be”—
Agatha felt a soft finger closing her lips, and knew that on that subject there must still be, as ever, total silence. She hid her face, and obeyed.
At length Miss Valery started. “There is a horse coming down the road, I think. Go, look. It may be your husband.”