"And so would I!" said Helen.
"And we are to bring Guy home, to eat his heart out in idleness, or to go to the bad for want of hope! To live the life that even I, dull, plodding Aymer, feel to be hard lines sometimes. And this is all his knowledge can suggest, though he sneers at our ignorance—his own work!"
"Aymer," said Clarice, gently, "believe me, papa is more to be pitied than any one of us. Do not speak bitterly, for you will surely be sorry for it by-and-by. Let us think of Guy—for I agree with you, he must not come home."
"Well, Clarice, my opinion is this. Guy has done nothing wrong. He is our own Guy still, loving and trustworthy. If he had you with him, very little would Tom Price see of him after his work; he and you always had company enough, if you were together over a book. You are well able to get about now, and Frank is no longer a baby. We shall miss you, Clarice—you don't know how much—but you'll be the saving of Guy."
"That's exactly what I think," said Helen. "It seems as if things had come about on purpose to make it possible. What do you say, Clarice?"
"When I read this letter, I thought just as you do; then I put it away, because I fear I should be but a dull companion for him, when he has no other."
"You'll be just what he wants," said Aymer. "Some one to work for, and to care for, and to welcome him home, and read with him. You'll go, won't you, Clarice?"
"If you really think this—and if papa consents."
Both brother and sister exclaimed at this, but Clarice was steady to her determination. Against his will she would not go.
Mr. Egerton, being told by Clarice that evening, made no objection. He only said,—