Chapter 8

When she went back to Andrews she carried the pricked leaves with
her. She could not have left them behind. From what source she
had drawn a characterizing passionate, though silent, strength of
mind and body, it would be difficult to explain. Her mind and her
emotions had been left utterly unfed, but they were not of the inert
order which scarcely needs feeding. Her feeling for the sparrows
had held more than she could have expressed; her secret adoration
of the "Lady Downstairs" was an intense thing. Her immediate
surrender to the desire in the first pair of human eyes--child eyes
though they were--which had ever called to her being for response,
was simple and undiluted rapture. She had passed over her little
soul without a moment's delay and without any knowledge of the
giving. It had flown from her as a bird might fly from darkness
into the sun. Eight-year-old Donal was the sun.

No special tendency to innate duplicity was denoted by the fact
that she had acquired, through her observation of Andrews, Jennings,
Jane and Mrs. Blayne, the knowledge that there were things it was
best not to let other people know. You were careful about them.
From the occult communications between herself and Donal, which
had resulted in their intrigue, there had of course evolved a
realizing sense of the value of discretion. She did not let Andrews
see the decorated leaves, but put them into a small pocket in her
coat. Her Machiavellian intention was to slip them out when she
was taken up to the Nursery. Andrews was always in a hurry to go
downstairs to her lunch and she would be left alone and could find
a place where she could hide them.

Andrews' friend started when Robin drew near to them. The child's
cheeks and lips were the colour of Jacqueminot rose petals. Her
eyes glowed with actual rapture.

"My word! That's a beauty if I ever saw one," said the woman.
"First sight makes you jump. My word!"

Robin, however, did not know what she was talking about and in
fact scarcely heard her. She was thinking of Donal. She thought
of him as she was taken home, and she did not cease thinking of
him during the whole rest of the day and far into the night. When
Andrews left her, she found a place to hide the pricked leaves and
before she put them away she did what Donal had done to her--she
kissed them. She kissed them several times because they were Donal's
leaves and he had made the stars and lines on them. It was almost
like kissing Donal but not quite so beautiful.

After she was put to bed at night and Andrews left her she lay
awake for a long time. She did not want to go to sleep because
everything seemed so warm and wonderful and she could think and
think and