She knew many of the other children who played there, and sometimes she
shared in their games; but her sensitive feelings were so easily hurt,
she frequently retired in tears. Every day on going into the garden she
looked about her, hoping that she would find before she left it again
some one whom it would be possible to worship. She tried on several
occasions to erect altars, but our English temperament is against
public display, and she was misunderstood.
Then, quite suddenly, as though she had sprung out of the fountain, Mary
Adams was there. Mary Adams was aged nine, and her difference from
Barbara Flint was that, whereas Barbara craved for affection, she craved
for attention: the two demands can be easily confused. Mary Adams was
the only child of an aged philosopher, Mr. Adams, who, contrary to all
that philosophy teaches, had married a young wife. The young wife,
pleased that Mary was so unlike her father, made much of her, and Mary
was delighted to be made much of. She was a little girl with flaxen
hair, blue eyes, and a fine pink-and-white colouring. In a few years'
time she will be so sure of the attention that her appearance is winning
for her that she will make no effort to secure adherents, but just now
she is not sufficiently confident--she must take trouble.
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