"Pray for me often, Clarice. Your prayers won this opening for me, and now they will be my safeguard. I'll try to remember, but I know you will."
Neither of the speakers knew that their father had come into the room while they were talking. He stood listening, with a doubtful look, and now went away softly.
Guy left home next day. His absence made a terrible blank in Clarice's life: all her natural strength and courage must have failed to support her; but something supported her. She grew paler and thinner, and was sometimes guilty of not hearing little Agnes's merry chatter; but she never complained, and was as gentle and as ready to help as ever. She little knew how closely she was being watched, nor how her stedfast, cheerful patience surprised and puzzled the watcher.
[CHAPTER XI.]
GUY'S FRIEND, TOM PRICE.
A YEAR passed quietly away, bringing no change to Ballintra, except in baby Frank, who grew and prospered, the joy and the terror of Clarice's life. Her joy, in that he was the prettiest, merriest, most coaxing little fellow in the world: her terror, in that he was also the most enterprising, with an innate love of climbing and scrambling, which cost her many an uneasy moment.
Clarice did not forget her resolution to endeavour to get nearer to her father; but, though she went on trying, she sometimes thought he was rather annoyed than pleased. Her power of moving about had increased a good deal, and she could get all over the house, even going up and down stairs without much difficulty; but there the improvement stopped.