Such long prayers Phyl used to say; the two always knelt at the same time by the side of their bed, and began together, but Dolly had always finished first. She used to glance sideways at Phyl [107] ]and wish she too could think of so many things to say. And Phyl—surely it could not have been just to show the superiority of her extra years—used to kneel motionless with her pale face bent over her pale hands so long that Dolly’s respect for her increased almost nightly. She used to try and try herself to think of other things to add to keep her praying just as long as her sister, but after many vain efforts gave it up, and added instead at the very end of all her prayers—“And please, dear Jesus, let me have said everything Phyl has said.”
To-night when prayers were finished, and they lay down with their arms around each other as usual, they could not get to sleep, for their broken promise pressed so heavily on their consciences they felt they could not wait until morning to confess to their mother. So after a time of silent tossing and sighs—they would not infringe further by any speech—Phyl sat up.
“You’ll just have to go down and tell mama now, Dolly,” she said. “I’d like to go myself, only I suppose it would worry her a lot if I got another cold.”
So Dolly slipped out of bed and crept down-stairs, this time forgetful of the warm dressing-gown and gay blue shoes.
“[Mama,]” she whispered, creeping like a white ghost across the room where her mother sat surrounded with papers, “we forgot, we’re very sowy, we’ve bwoken our pwomise.”
[108]
]Mrs. Conway’s colour had flown at the soft footsteps and the sudden voice. But the forgiveness was given very soon, for she remembered being a child herself, and had not forgotten how mysteriously time used then to fly away. She wrapped her daughter round in a big shawl. “Are you sleepy, Dolly?” she said.
“[Mama, we forgot,—we’re very sowy.]”
Dolly’s wide eyes and eager lips gave quick denial.
“I want one of my girlies to-night,” the poor mother said, and her lips trembled so and her eyelashes were so wet, Dolly knew just how lonely and grieving and anxious she was. So they sat on the sofa and had a little talk, and a cuddle, and they kissed each other often, and said low, tender things [109] ]to each other just as lovers might have done, and the ache in the mother’s heart passed away.