She glanced up at him. There was something so soft in his voice whenever he spoke of Robert. Hilda was touched.
“You are anxious on Robert’s behalf?” she said.
“Yes,” he answered simply. “I am.”
They walked on in silence for a few minutes.
“You see, we have been such close friends,” he said, “and I nursed him through a bad illness, and learned to look upon him as my own property. He came into my life, too, at a time when I was desolate. The world seemed a desert to me. But Bob held out his hand, and helped me along to a green place. I have found many green places since then.”
“With such a close friendship as that, you must surely resent my presence out here,” Hilda said tentatively.
“Yes,” he said staunchly, “I resent it most deeply, if you do not make him happy.”
Hilda smiled. She liked his candour; she liked everything about him.
They had reached the road which led up to her house.
“Good-bye,” he said; “I won’t come in just now. I must make my way back whilst it is still fine. Tell Bob I’ll be in to-morrow.”