For a little while longer Mary stayed on at home.
Then, when the leaves were just opening out in pale green silk, and all the world was fragrant and full of the joy of birds, she went, unwillingly, and turning back many times to make her sorrowful farewells.
"I don't want you to stay till you begin to feel cramped," Walter Gray had said.

"I had rather you went away with your illusions." She did carry away her illusions.

It was a happy and blessed thing for her that she could make illusions about common things all the days she was to live.

Yet somewhere, in her hidden heart, she knew her father was right..