I regret it now very deeply.

But we always see too late the consequences of our proud self-will." She turned then.
"Come here, dear," she said.
Maggie came to her.

Her aunt looked at her and Maggie was deeply conscious of her shabby dress, her rough hands, her ugly boots.

Then, as always when she was self-critical, her eyes grew haughty and her mouth defiant.
Her aunt kissed her, her cool, firm fingers against the girl's warm neck.
"You will come to us now, dear.

You should have come long ago." Maggie wanted to speak, but she could not.
"We will try to make you happy, but ours is not an exciting life." Maggie's eyes lit up.