And when she woke fully enough to understand the reality, it
was no better; she felt, then, the position she had put herself into,
and almost saw in the dark, Flinders's malicious vindictive glance
Constance's anger, Uncle Regie's cold, severe look and, worse than all,
her father reading her letter'
She fell again into an agony of sobbing, not without a little hope that
Aunt Lily would be again brought to her side. At last the door was
softly pushed open in the dark, but it was not Aunt Lily, it was
Mysie's little bare feet that patted up to the bed, her arms that
embraced, her cheek that was squeezed against the tearful one--'Oh,
Dolly, Dolly! please don't cry so sadly!'
'Oh! it is so dreadful, Mysie!'
'Are you ill--like the other night?'
'No--but--Mysie--I can't bear it!'
'I don't want to call mamma,' said Mysie, thoughtfully, 'for she is so
much tired, and Uncle Regie and Gill said she would be quite knocked
up, and got her to come up to bed when we went. Dolly, would it be
better if I got into your bed and cuddled you up?'
'Oh yes! oh yes! please do, there's a dear good Mysie.'
There was not much room, but that mattered the less, and the hugging of
the warm arms seemed to heal the terrible sense of being unloved and
forsaken, the presence to drive away the visions of angry faces that
had haunted her; but there was the longing for fellow-feeling on her,
and she said, 'That's nice! Oh, Mysie! you can't think what it is like!
Uncle Regie said I didn't care, and he could never forgive deliberate
deceit--and I was so fond of Uncle Regie!'
'Oh! but he will, if you never tell a story again,' said Mysie--and, as
she felt a gesture implying despair--'Yes, they do; I told a story
once.
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