Mother was an honest and honourable Mother, so she had to say,
"Yes."

"Well, then," said Phyllis.

"But, darlings, you don't know how fond I am of you. What should I
do if you got hurt?"

"Are you fonder of us than Granny was of you when you were little?"
Phyllis asked. Bobbie made signs to her to stop, but Phyllis never
did see signs, no matter how plain they might be.

Mother did not answer for a minute. She got up to put more water in
the teapot.

"No one," she said at last, "ever loved anyone more than my mother
loved me."

Then she was quiet again, and Bobbie kicked Phyllis hard under the
table, because Bobbie understood a little bit the thoughts that were
making Mother so quiet--the thoughts of the time when Mother was a
little girl and was all the world to HER mother. It seems so easy
and natural to run to Mother when one is in trouble. Bobbie
understood a little how people do not leave off running to their
mothers when they are in trouble even when they are grown up, and
she thought she knew a little what it must be to be sad, and have no
mother to run to any more.

So she kicked Phyllis, who said:--