“Well, darling; she is here, and she does comfort you, I know; and we are glad—father and I and Violet and Rose.”
“Oh, the dear little children, they are quite sweet,” said Mrs Starling: “they are never strong and individual like you, Robin.”
“But I can’t help being individual, as you call it, mummy; and I am so much older than the others.”
“Yes; that is it: if you could only alway’s stay a baby.”
“Well, I cannot;” said Robina, losing some of her patience; “and what is more, I don’t wish to. God meant me to be strong and to have, as you call it, a personality. Now listen. I have got a pony—oh! I have such a pretty story to tell you about it, and how I won it.”
“I can’t listen to any story to-day.”
“Well, anyhow, it is here; and even Aunt Felicia loves Bo-peep and I want you to see him.”
“Really, this is most extraordinary,” said Mrs Starling. “You have got a pony? Such a very great expense! Who bought it for you?”
“Not father, mother. I won him as a prize at school. He has been sent here by a good gentleman who gave the prize, but he costs nobody else anything at all, and his name is Bo-peep: and what father and I think is this: that we might presently have a basket chair got and Bo-peep could draw you about the grounds. Then you would get better, my own mummy; and—and—I should be so happy!”
Robina waited tremblingly. She wondered how her mother would take her proposal.