Now, what is the matter ?" Mr.Jack laughed, but he shook his head a little sadly.
"You're getting into too deep waters for me, David.

I suspect you're floundering in a sea that has upset the boats of sages since the world began.

But what is it that was so nice, and that isn't going to happen?
Perhaps I MIGHT help on that." "No, you couldn't," frowned David; "and there couldn't anybody, either, you see, because I wouldn't go back now and LET it happen, anyhow, as long as I know what I do.

Why, if I did, there wouldn't be ANY hours that were sunny then--not even the ones after four o'clock; I--I'd feel so mean! But what I don't see is just how I can fix it up with the Lady of the Roses." "What has she to do with it ?" "Why, at the very first, when she said she didn't have ANY sunshiny hours, I told her--" "When she said what ?" interposed Mr.Jack, coming suddenly erect in his chair.
"That she didn't have any hours to count, you know." "To--COUNT ?" "Yes; it was the sundial.

Didn't I tell you?
Yes, I know I did--about the words on it--not counting any hours that weren't sunny, you know.
And she said she wouldn't have ANY hours to count; that the sun never shone for her." "Why, David," demurred Mr.Jack in a voice that shook a little, "are you sure?
Did she say just that?
You--you must be mistaken--when she has--has everything to make her happy." "I wasn't, because I said that same thing to her myself--afterwards.
And then I told her--when I found out myself, you know--about its being what was inside of you, after all, that counted; and then is when I asked her if she couldn't think of something nice that was going to happen to her sometime." "Well, what did she say ?" "She shook her head, and said 'No.' Then she looked away, and her eyes got soft and dark like little pools in the brook where the water stops to rest.