hed with all my heart that I hadn't listened. I had always known it
was no nice way. I must have gone to sleep after a while, but when I
woke up I was still thinking about it, and to save me, I couldn't quit.
All day, wherever I went, that question of father's kept going over in
my head. I thought about it until I was almost crazy, and I just
couldn't see where anything about shame came in.

She was only mistaken. She THOUGHT he loved her, and he didn't. She
never could have been so bloomy, so filled with song, laughter, and
lovely like she was, if she hadn't truly believed with all her heart
that he loved her. Of course it would almost finish her to give him
up, when she felt like that; and maybe she did wrong to let herself
care so much, before she was sure about him; but that would only be
foolish, there wouldn't be even a shadow of shame about it. Besides,
Laddie had done exactly the same thing. He loved the Princess until it
nearly killed him when he thought he had to give her up, and he loved
her as hard as ever he could, when he hadn't an idea whether she would
love him back, even a tiny speck; and the person who wasn't foolish,
and never would be, was Laddie.

The more I thought, the worse I got worked up, and I couldn't see how
Shelley was to blame for anything at all. Love just came to her, like
it came to Laddie. She would hardly have knelt down and beseeched the
Lord to make her fall in love with a man she scarcely knew, and when
she couldn't be sure what he was going to do about it--not the Lord,
the man, I mean. You could see for yourself she wouldn't do that. I
finished my work, and then I tried to do things for her, and she
wouldn't let me. Mother told me to ask her to make Grace Greenwood the
dress she had promised when I was so sick; so I took the Scotch plaid
to her and reminded her, and she pushed me away and said: "Some time!"

I even got Grace, and showed Shelley the spills on her dress, and how
badly she needed a new one, but she never looked, she said: "Oh bother!
My head aches. Do let me be!"

Mother was listening. I could see her standing outside the door.

She motioned to me to come away, so I went to her and she was white as
Shelley. She was sick too, she couldn't say a word for a minute, but
after a while she kissed me, I could feel the quivers in her lips, and
she said stifflike: "Never mind, she'll be better soon, then she will!
Run play now!"

Sometimes I wandered