At last the worst came.

He suddenly spoke, with smiles--"I _know_ where we'll find hose-in-hose! In Mary's Meadow.

It's the fullest field of cowslips there is.

Hurrah! Supposing we find hose-in-hose, and supposing we find green cowslips, and supposing we find curled cowslips or galligaskins, and supposing--" But I could not bear it, I fairly ran away from him, and shut myself up in my room and cried.

I knew it was silly, and yet I could not bear the thought of having to satisfy everybody's curiosity, and describe that scene in Mary's Meadow, which had wounded me so bitterly, and explain why I had not told of it before.
I cried, too, for another reason.