“It ought, of course, to come from Churton himself, without any reminder.”
“I doubt if it will,” Robert answered. “He has relieved his conscience by speaking once,—at a moment when I could not well take up the question. It is as likely as not that he will never bring up the matter again, of his own free will.”
“Then you will have to remind him, Robert.”
“I may have to do so. I am not sure yet,” Robert said, with a curious smile. “I don’t know whether you will agree with me, Marion. My own view is that if Maimie is to be our child still, we cannot claim Churton’s help. But if he demands her from us, as his child, then he becomes responsible for the last two years’ expenses, and I shall ask at least a measure of compensation.”
“I see,—yes, you are right. That would not pain Maimie?” I spoke questioningly, little knowing how the very same thought would later occur to Maimie herself.
“Maimie wishes nothing so much as that Churton should give us our due; for it is our due. Don’t you see, Marion, that this may supply us with a certain check upon Churton. It is the only curb we possess. Otherwise, if he chose to take her away to-morrow, what could we do? He is her natural guardian, undoubtedly. He has forfeited the poor child’s affection; but we cannot entirely fling away his right over her, if he insists on having his way.”
“And you keep this in reserve,” I said. “Yes; it is wise. I do agree with you, indeed.”
Jack and Cress were an additional care at this time.
A marked coldness had been apparent between the two brothers since Maimie’s birthday. Each knew the other to be set on the same object as himself; and while neither could boast of any encouragement from that object, each feared that the other might be his successful rival.
The thing sounds absurd, such boys as they were, and Maimie only seventeen. But the girl seemed growing each day prettier and more womanly. I could hardly wonder at my boys’ feelings about her.