Page:Hollyhock house; a story for girls (IA hollyhockhousest00tagg).pdf/284

262 Never forget that. I’ve been exactly what you called me: a toy-mother! I’m going to burn every foolish one of them!”

“No, madrina, please!” said Jane, dropping down beside her mother. “You didn’t know when you went away from us; you were so young. You had no idea that motherhood was more beautiful, made sweeter music, than your singing. Don’t be sorry; it all had to be. Do you suppose it matters how people learn things, provided they are not wicked? I imagine it’s just like school: different courses, you know. I’m a lot like you, and I can sing and act, you say. Perhaps I’d never have known that glory isn’t the best thing in the world if you hadn’t left us, and come home to tell us. Though I couldn’t have gone far from Mary! You mustn’t burn these things, little madrina! We want them; they’re our pride now, you see! It’s like bringing in the sheaves; these are the sheaves you’ve brought into the garden, and to your Garden girls. They’re ours now, madrina, because you are ours.”

Mrs. Garden stared at Jane, amazed, then dropped her head on her shoulder with a long breath of relinquishment.

“You are uncanny, Jane, positively,” she