2
One day Virginia cried. Looking up from the page of a book, Ivor saw her eyes dimmed with tears.
“Oh!” she cried, at his look.
“Well!” he exclaimed, in utter surprise.
She smiled a little, in sudden confusion. And she spitefully dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.
“I must be growing up,” she said.
“But, darling, not yet to second childhood!”
Oh, how sad she looked! like a fairy in a sad tale about Midsummer Night.
“I’m realising, you see, that I haven’t deserved a bit of this—oh, not a bit of it!” she cried miserably. “Ivor, I’ve deserved it much less than other people might deserve it. I am too lucky, Ivor, and I’m afraid....”
“I’ve been such a beastly person,” she said. “You don’t know....”