Here Barbara was baffled
by the determination on the part of both of them that she should talk,
should think, should dream about all the things concerning which she
could not talk, think nor dream. "How to grow up into a nice little
girl," "How to pray to God," "How never to tell lies," "How to keep
one's clothes clean,"--these things did not interest Barbara in the
least; but had she been given love with them she might have paid some
attention. But a too rigidly defined politics, a too rigidly defined
religion find love a poor, loose, sentimental thing--very rightly so,
perhaps. Mrs. Flint was afraid that Barbara was a "silly little girl."
"I hope, Miss Letts, that she no longer talks about her silly fancies."
"She has said nothing to me in that respect for a considerable period,
Mrs. Flint."
"All very young children have fancies, but such things are dangerous
when they grow older."
"I agree with you."
Nevertheless the fountain continued to flash in the sun, and births,
deaths, weddings, love and hate continued to play their part in March
Square.
II
Barbara, groping about in the desolation of having no one to grope with
her, discovered that her Friend came now less frequently to see her.
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