There was a wild satisfaction in shouting this to the night.
"But how foolish I am!"
She pushed her hair back from her face, and was startled to feel how burning hot her cheeks felt to her cold hands.
Soon she turned and walked homeward,—walked soberly, as if she were thinking calmly of a subject indifferent to her. She went in at the door, which had been open, and softly entered the room she had just left.
Her mother wakened and raised her head.
"They've come, haven't they?" she asked.
"No."
"Oh, well," she said, comfortably, "I suppose they went farther than they intended; but it was very thoughtless of them,—very; and I shall tell them so. Don't you think we might better go to bed, Caro dear?"
"You go, mamma; do go," was the girl's response.
"Oh, no, not without you." Mrs. Ffolliott leaned forward in her chair, looking into the fire. "What curious things one will dream," she said, with a smile. "I must have been asleep, for I wakened trying to think of the last two lines—do tell me, Caro: