"Nannie, Nannie, what on earth is the matter with you?" said Rex, a little impatient at being kept in this way, hat on and whip in hand.
"She will not care for you one bit--I know she never will!" said the poor child in a sobbing whisper. She had lost all control of herself.
Rex reddened and hurried away from her out of the hall door, leaving her to the miserable consciousness of having made herself disagreeable in vain.
He did think of her words as he rode along; they had the unwelcomeness which all unfavorable fortune-telling has, even when laughed at; but he quickly explained them as springing from little Anna's tenderness, and began to be sorry that he was obliged to come away without soothing her. Every other feeling on the subject, however, was quickly merged in a resistant belief to the contrary of hers, accompanied with a new determination to prove that he was right. This sort of certainty had just enough kinship to doubt and uneasiness to hurry on a confession which an untouched security might have delayed.

"Nannie, Nannie, what on earth is the matter with you?" said Rex, a little impatient.
"She will not care for you one bit - I know she never will!" sobbed the poor child.
Rex reddened and hurried away. He thought of her unwelcome words as he rode along; but he quickly explained them as springing from little Anna's tenderness, and began to be sorry he had come away without soothing her. While he did not believe she was right, he had just enough doubt and uneasiness to hurry on a confession which he might have delayed.
