"Ugh! I—"
"No, you don't, dearest. You couldn't expect them to want us around after the things we magnanimously refrained from saying—but so perfectly implied."
"All right, I'll love them instead, if you want me to, only—" And she puckered her forehead into deep furrows of perplexity. "I have kept it out of my mind all through the evening, but we might as well face it now as to-morrow morning. What is going to happen to us?"
The House Surgeon turned her about until she was again looking across the line of scattered blossoms—into the indistinguishable darkness beyond. He laughed joyously, as a man can laugh when everything lies before him and there are no regrets left behind. "Have you forgotten so soon? We are to cross the primrose ring—right here; and follow the road—there—into faeryland after the children."
"The beds really do look empty."
"They certainly do."
"And we'll find the children there?"
"Of course."
"And I'll not have to give them up?"
"Of course not."