And when it grew late, and the stars were drawn down, somehow, to hang among the trees, Amabel fell asleep in her aunt’s arms beside a white foaming fountain on a marble terrace, where white peacocks came to drink.
* * * * *
She awoke on the big bed in the spare room, but her aunt’s arms were still round her.
‘Amabel,’ she was saying, ‘Amabel!’
‘Oh, Auntie,’ said Amabel sleepily, ‘I am so sorry. It was stupid of me. And I did mean to please you.’
‘It was stupid of you,’ said the aunt, ‘but I am sure you meant to please me. Come down [p232 to supper.’ And Amabel has a confused recollection of her aunt’s saying that she was sorry, adding, ‘Poor little Amabel.’
If the aunt really did say it, it was fine of her. And Amabel is quite sure that she did say it.
* * * * *
Amabel and her great-aunt are now the best of friends. But neither of them has ever spoken to the other of the beautiful city called ‘Whereyouwantogoto.’ Amabel is too shy to be the first to mention it, and no doubt the aunt has her own reasons for not broaching the subject.
But of course they both know that they have been there together, and it is easy to get on with people when you and they alike belong to the Peoplewhounderstand.