"I'm only too happy to stay if—if I can be of any use," she murmured.
John sat down and made one of the party. They all chattered cheerfully till the time grew late. Sophy, still treated as an invalid, had to go to bed. She kissed John, who held her closely for a moment; then threw herself in Tom's arms, and could hardly be persuaded to let him go.
"I shall write to Mr. Imason and tell him you've come back," she whispered as a great secret. "He was so kind to Lucy and Vera when—— You know, papa?"
Tom passed his hand over her flaxen hair.
"Sleep quietly, darling," he said.
For quiet and peace were possible now.
There had been no expectation that Tom would be home to dinner; and though Suzette assured him that something could easily be prepared (and that homely sort of attention was new and pleasant to Tom), he accepted John Fanshaw's invitation to take pot-luck with him. They walked off together, rather silent, each full of his own thoughts. They did not speak until they had almost reached John's door.
"That's the sort of sight that makes a man wish he had children," said John slowly.
"I've often wished I had none. Poor Harriet!"
"But you're glad of them now?"