There Mary could tell her as much as she dared of the events in their little circle, but the lively and sometimes hoydenish little girl was often withheld from confessing a misdemeanor, or even an inoffensive piece of childishness, by sheer admiration for one who to her appeared nobler, greater and loftier than other beings.
Just as Paula had finished putting up her hair, Mary, who would rush like a whirlwind even into her grandmother's presence, knocked humbly at the door.

She did not fly into Paula's arms as she did into those of Susannah or her daughter Katharina, but only kissed her white arm with fervent devotion, and colored with happiness when Paula bent down to her, pressed her lips to her brow and hair, and wiped her wet, glowing cheeks.

Then she took Mary's head fondly between her hands and said: "What is wrong with you, madcap ?" In fact the sweet little face was crimson, and her eyes swelled as if she had been crying violently.
"It is so fearfully hot," said Mary.

"Eudoxia"-- her Greek governess--"says that Egypt in summer is a fiery furnace, a hell upon earth.

She is quite ill with the heat, and lies like a fish on the sand; the only good thing about it is..." "That she lets you run off and gives you no lessons ?" Mary nodded, but as no lecture followed the confession she put her head on one side and looked up into Paula's face with large roguish eyes.
"And yet you have been crying!--a great girl like you ?" "I--I crying ?" "Yes, crying.