Page:Burnett - Two Little Pilgrims' Progress A Story of the City Beautiful.djvu/210

190 madness. And in some way Meg was like her, with her vivid little face and her black-lashed eyes, her City Beautiful and her dreams and stories, which made the realities of her life. It was a strange chance—a marvellously kind chance—which had thrown them together—these two who were of such different worlds, and yet who needed each other so much.

During the afternoon, seeing that Meg looked a little tired, and also realising in his practical fashion that Ben's mother would be more at ease in the society she was used to, John Holt sent her to ramble about with her boy, and Robin went with them, and Meg and John went to rest with the thousands of roses among the bowers of the fairy island, and there they said a good deal to each other. John Holt seemed to find a kind of comfort in finding words for some of the thoughts he had been silent about in the past.

"It's a queer thing," he said, "but when I talk to you about her, I feel as if she was somewhere near."

"Perhaps she is," said Meg, in her matter-of-fact little way. "We don't know what they are doing. But if you had gone into another world, and she had stayed here, you know you would have come to take care of her."

"That's true," said John Holt. "I took care of her