"And did you really do it all by yourself, Bruno?" said Sylvie.
"And all for me?"
"I was helped a bit," Bruno began, with a merry little laugh at her
surprise. "We've been at it all the afternoon--I thought oo'd like--"
and here the poor little fellow's lip began to quiver, and all in a
moment he burst out crying, and running up to Sylvie he flung his arms
passionately round her neck, and hid his face on her shoulder.
There was a little quiver in Sylvie's voice too, as she whispered "Why,
what's the matter, darling?" and tried to lift up his head and kiss him.
But Bruno only clung to her, sobbing, and wouldn't be comforted till he
had confessed. "I tried--to spoil oor garden--first--but I'll never--
never--" and then came another burst of tears, which drowned the rest
of the sentence. At last he got out the words "I liked--putting in the
flowers--for oo, Sylvie --and I never was so happy before."
And the rosy little face came up at last to be kissed, all wet with tears
as it was.
Sylvie was crying too by this time, and she said nothing but "Bruno,
dear!" and "I never was so happy before," though why these two children
who had never been so happy before should both be crying was a mystery
to me.
I felt very happy too, but of course I didn't cry: "big things" never
do, you know we leave all that to the Fairies. Only I think it must
have been raining a little just then, for I found a drop or two on my
cheeks.
Pages:
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141