"Why, Paulie," she cried, "what are you doing? Oh, you are dripping wet; your hair and all. What have you been at?"
"I am wet because I have washed. I have washed and I am clean. Oh, Nancy, Nancy! it is as right as possible. The terrible, haunting words have gone, and the longing for the sea has gone. I know that I am forgiven. Nancy, do you hear? I am washed, and I am clean. Oh! I know at last what it means."
"For goodness' sake take off those wet things and get back into bed and let me warm you up. You will catch your death."
"My death!" cried Pauline, "when I am so happy I scarcely know how to contain myself."
Nancy sprang out of bed, dragged Pauline towards her, and helped her to pull off her wet things. Then she wrapped her up in her warm night-dress, made her cuddle down in bed, and kissed her and hugged her.
"Oh, dear!" she said, "you are the queerest girl; but your face looks as it did long ago."
"I feel as I did long ago--or, rather, I feel different. I was a child then and did not understand much. Now, it seems to me, I understand a great deal--yes, a great deal. Oh! and there is your father in the garden. I must dress; I must go to him."
So Pauline jumped out of bed, got quickly into her clothes, and ran out to join the farmer.
"Mr. King," she cried, "I am quite well again."
"It looks like it, little missy," said the farmer.
"I am," repeated Pauline. "I am as perfectly well as a girl can be. You know how often I told you I wanted to wash and be clean. I had my wash this morning, and it was really what I did want, for that dull feeling has left my head. I know just everything, and how I behaved, and all the rest, and I am prepared to take the bitter as well as the sweet. It is very, very sweet living here with you and Nancy, and whatever happens, you will be my friends as long as I live. And it is very bitter to think that I must tell Aunt Sophia and Verena and the rest of them the whole truth; but, bitter or not, I am going to do it, and I am going back to them, for it is right. I want to go back to them this very day. May I?"
"Yes, my lass; I understand you," said the farmer gravely.
It was a lovely day for the time of year; although it was November, the sun shone brilliantly. Miss Tredgold stood on the lawn in front of the house and talked to Verena, who stood by her side.