Roland hardly talked at all. His father mentioned that he was going down for the week-end to stay with some friends and take part in a cricket match.
“So that is what you are so excited about!” April had interposed. And Roland had laughed and said that that was it.
But she would not believe that he could be so excited about a game of cricket, and in the hall she had pulled him by his coat sleeve.
“What is it?” she had whispered. “Something has happened. It is not only a cricket match.”
And because he wanted to share his enthusiasm with someone, and because April looked so pretty, and because he felt that courage would flow to him from her faith in him, he confided in her his hope.
“Oh, that would be lovely,” she said. “I do hope things will turn out all right. I’ve felt so guilty all along about it; if it hadn’t been for me none of this would ever have happened.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Roland. “Things are beginning to turn right now.”
There was no time for further conversation; Mrs. Curtis had completed her doorstep homily to Mr. Whately. April pressed Roland’s hand eagerly as she said good-by to him.