"Let us hope that this is the last woe, and that now the luck will
turn," said Aunt Mary.

Mollie did not say anything. She had smiled the Guides' smile
valiantly through the worst of her misfortunes, but now she was so
tired that she felt nothing short of a hammer and two tacks could
fasten that smile on to her face any longer. So she closed her eyes
and lay back on the cushions, feeling that Fate had done its worst
and that no more blows were possible in the immediate future.

Grannie fetched an eiderdown and tucked it cosily round the patient,
who looked pale and chilly even on this fine warm day in June, while
Aunt Mary tidied away the remains of lotions and bandages left by
the doctor.

"The best thing now will be a little sleep," said Grannie, looking
down with kind old eyes at her granddaughter, "a little quiet sleep
and then a nice tea, with the first strawberries from the garden. I
saw quite a number of red ones this morning, and Susan shall give us
some cream."

Mollie opened her eyes again and tried to look pleased, but even the
thought of strawberries and cream could not make her feel really
happy in her heart; for one thing, she still felt rather sick.

"That will be lovely," she said, as gratefully as she could, "and
now I think I _will_ try to go to sleep, and perhaps forget things
for a little while--" and, in spite of all her efforts, a few tears
insisted upon rolling down her cheeks as she thought of home, and
Mother's disappointment, and the dull time that lay before her.