'When I think I generally take that off,' said Sister Agatha, 'and after to-morrow I don't think I shall wear it again. Well, I put my thinking cap on, and I began to wonder whether I could manage to keep you with me always.'
'Oh!' exclaimed Mary, and she seemed to be hugging herself as if she felt very pleasant indeed.
'And,' Sister Agatha said, 'after thinking about it a long time, I fancied that perhaps I could keep you with me always.'
'Here!' cried Mary. 'Should we live here?'
'No, we are going away from here to-morrow,' was the answer.
'Where to?' asked Mary.
'Suppose, now, we take a nice little house somewhere near the sea,' said Sister Agatha.
'I should like that!' cried Mary.
'I think I should like it too,' answered Sister Agatha. 'Because I shall always have some one to look after, and I like looking after people. And we shall grow very fond of each other, sometimes we shall play on the sands, or row on the sea, and then I shall teach you to read and write, and when you can read you will begin to see what a wonderful world you live in—and you will find that life is far more wonderful than any fairy-tale.'
'Shall I?' asked Mary, and rising from her stool, she stood leaning against Sister Agatha's knees. 'But, still,' she said presently, 'you'll be there, won't you?'