was in reality to blame, she attacked Angelina all the more fiercely.
"This brooding must be stopped," she said. "Really, it's most
unhealthy."

It was quite impossible for her to believe that a child of three could
really be interested by golden sunsets, the colours of the fountain
that was in the centre of the gardens, the soft, grey haze that clothed
the houses on a spring evening; and when, therefore, she saw Angelina
gazing at these things, she decided that the child was morbid. Any
interest, however, that Angelina may have taken in her aunts before
Rose's arrival was now reduced to less than nothing at all.

"That doll that Edward gave the child," said Miss Emily to her sister,
"is having a very bad effect on her. Makes her more moody than ever."

"Such a hideous thing!" said Miss Violet. "Well, I shall take it away if
I see much more of this nonsense."

It was lucky for Rose meanwhile that she was of a healthy constitution.
The meals, the dressing and undressing, the perpetual demands upon her
undivided attention, the sudden rousings from her sleep, the swift
rockings back into slumber again, the appeals for response, the abuses
for indifference, these things would have slain within a week one of her
more feeble sisters. But Rose was made of stern stuff, and her rosy
cheeks were as rosy, the brightness of her eyes was undimmed. We may
believe--and surely many harder demands are made upon our faith--that
there did arise a very special relationship between these two. The whole
of Angelina's heart was now devoted to Rose's service, Rose's was not
devoted to Angelina?... And always Angelina wondered when her friend
would return, watched for him in the dusk, awoke in the early mornings