he green leaves and red tulips and blue
and purple clematis was the prettiest. Anne tried to behave as if all
her happiness depended on a pattern, and ended by choosing the one that
Maisie liked best. And the furniture went where Maisie thought it should
go, because Anne was too tired to care. Besides, she was busy on her
farm. Old Sutton in his decadence had let most of his arable land run to
waste, and Anne's job was to make good soil again out of bad.

Maisie was pleased like a child and excited with her planning. Her idea
was that Anne should come in from her work on the land and find the
house all ready for her, everything in its place, chairs and sofas
dressed in their gay suits of chintz, the books on their shelves, the
blue-and-white china in rows on the oak dresser.

Tea was set out on the gate-legged table before the wide hearth-place.
The lamps were lit. A big fire burned. Colin and Jerrold and Maisie were
there waiting for her. And Anne came in out of the fields, tired and
white and thin, her black hair drooping. Her rough land dress hung slack
on her slender body.

Jerrold looked at her. Anne's tired face, trying to smile, wrung his
heart. So did the happiness in Maisie's eyes. And Anne's voice trying to
sound as if she were happy.

"You darlings! How nice you've made it."

"Do you like it?"

Maisie was breathless with joy.

"I love it. I adore it! But--aren't there lots of things that weren't
here before? Where did that table come from?"

"From the Manor Farm. Don't you remember it? That's Eliot."

"And the bureau, and the dresser, and those heavenly rugs?"

"That's Jerrold."

And the china was Colin, and the chintz was Maisie. The long couch for
Anne to lie down on was Maisie. Everything that was not Anne's they had
given her.

"You shouldn't have done it," she said.

"We did it for ourselves. To keep you with us," said Maisie.

"Did you think it would take all that?"

She wondered whether they saw how hard she was trying to look happy, not
to be too tired to care.

Then Maisie took her upstairs to show her her bedroom and the white
bathroom. Colin carried the lamp. He left them together in Anne's room.
Maisie turned to her there.

"Darling, how tired you look. Are you too tired to be happy?"

"I'd be a brute if I weren't happy," Anne said.

But she wasn't happy. The minute they were gone her sadness came upon
her, crushing her down. She could hear Colin and Maisie, the two
innoce