'Stars!' said Sister Agatha.
'Aren't they stars?' asked Mary.
'Why, of course not——'
'Then I know what they are,' said Mary; 'they're the magic counters you give to people when you want them to do things.'
'I'm afraid those don't grow by the roadside,' answered Evangeline; 'these are primroses, Mary.'
'What are primroses?' asked Mary with wondering eyes.
'You see,' said Evangeline, 'every winter the earth grows hard and cold; but when it feels the sun shine on it again it smiles, and to show you how glad it is, it puts forth all these bright little flowers.'
'I see,' answered Mary, still looking as if she did not understand at all.
'Perhaps you would like to pick some,' said Evangeline. She stopped the ponies, and at the same moment the two boys sprang to the ground and stood very stiffly at their heads. Sister Agatha and Mary got out of the carriage and, stooping by the roadside, plucked primrose after primrose, whilst the three dogs sniffed about as if they wanted to make a meal off the sweet, yellow flowers.
Then they got into the carriage again, and Evangeline flourished her whip. The boys climbed up into the back seat, and Mary felt she should not mind being driven along that sunny road for ever, or at least until tea-time. She had never smelled the air so sweet nor seen the sky so blue.