Her character was not set in the same mould, and though both could
meet on the common ground of intellect, she could neither enter into
the recesses of her mother's grief, nor understand those flashes of
brightness and playfulness which nothing could destroy. If Carey had
chosen to unveil the truth to herself, she would have owned that
Allen, who was always ready, tender and sympathetic to her, was a
much greater comfort than his sister; nay, that even little Babie
gave her more rest and peace than did Janet, who always rubbed
against her whenever they found themselves tete-a-tete or in
consultation.
Meantime Babie had been out with her two little cousins, and came
home immensely impressed with the Belforest gardens. The house was
shut up, but the gardens were really kept up to perfection, and the
little one could not declare her full delight in the wonderful blaze
she had seen of banks of red, and flame coloured, and white,
flowering trees. "They said they would show me the Americans," she
said. "Why was it, mother? I thought Americans were like the
gentleman who dined with you one day, and told me about the snow
birds. But there were only these flower-trees, and a pond, and
statues standing round it, and I don't think they were Americans, for
I know one was Diana, because she had a bow and quiver.
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