Hazel balanced one of the cups on the tip of her finger, thoughtfully. 'I suppose they are,' she said. 'Good for nothing but to look at.'
'Do you think such lives good to look at?'
'Sometimes pretty to look at. Just as this cup is, till you remember that it is empty.'
'Hazel, did you study the lesson I gave you last winter?'
'I have studied it. Yes.'
'And the result? '
Looking down at the olive moss tufts at her feet, she answered, slowly,
'I am notquitesure.'
'You can talk just as well if you are resting,' said Rollo; and he pulled her down to her place again, and threw himself on the bank beside her. 'Now go on,' he said, 'and tell me all about it.'
But "all about it" was a great deal. As the fireside musings, the long night watches, the fears and questionings and perplexities came up one by one and flung their shadows over her face, Hazel answered,