This is very sweet to Alice; but she knows that if she tells Amy the
truth at once its first effect will be to make the dear one feel
ridiculous. How can Alice hurt her Amy so, Amy who has such pride in
having saved her? 'You do love me a little, Amy, don't you?'

AMY. 'Yes, yes.'

ALICE. 'You don't think I have been really bad, dear?'

AMY. 'Oh, no, only foolish.'

ALICE. 'Thank you, Amy.'

AMY, nestling still closer, 'What are we to do now, dear dear mother?'

Alice has a happy idea; but that, as the novelists say, deserves a
chapter to itself.



III

We are back in the room of the diary. The diary itself is not
visible; it is tucked away in the drawer, taking a nap while it may,
for it has much to chronicle before cockcrow. Cosmo also is asleep, on
an ingenious arrangement of chairs. Ginevra is sitting bolt upright, a
book on her knee, but she is not reading it. She is seeing visions in
which Amy plays a desperate part. The hour is late; every one ought to
be in bed.