That put the question differently, and Pattie could not reply with a negative.
"It is my own wish," she repeated. "I want to be independent."
"But your father wished you to be with us. I promised him when he was dying."
"Yes, I know. I went in directly after, and he said something to me before he became unconscious. He said you had promised; but I could not agree to that, you know. I could not be a burden on you, except for a little while. Now I have been long enough; and I must find something else. Perhaps I might take care of children, as a nursery governess. Would not that do?"
"We must think about it. I am not in a hurry to get rid of you, though you are in a hurry to go. It is pleasant to have you in the house."
Then he stood up. "I'm afraid we ought to move; it is growing damp."
Not much more passed between them on the way home. Mr. Cragg was thinking what a difference Pattie's absence would make. Now he could always look upon one face not clouded by ill-temper. He dreaded a return to the old condition of things. Pattie, wondering over his silence, feared that she had said something to vex him.
"It isn't that I am ungrateful," she pleaded, presently.
"If I wished you to go, I should be ungrateful," he answered. "You don't know how much you have done to brighten life for little Dot and me, since you came."
"Have I? No, I didn't know it. My mother always said one could do a good deal in that way, if one would take the trouble; and I do try. But it isn't easy. It is very good of you to speak so to me. But still—I think I ought to work for myself."