"That's so,—I'm responsible to Aunt Lucinda for you. And what others?"
"How about the We are Sevens whom you've brought so far away from their homes? And Alec?"
Blue Bonnet's eyes opened.
"I hadn't thought of them in that way. But I reckon you're right. And there's Solomon, too."
Grandmother's mouth twitched. "You must be sure you can do your full duty by the responsibilities you have before you assume new ones."
Blue Bonnet looked very serious. "Seems to me life has a heap of complications. Now there's Alec,—he's worse than a complication. He's a downright puzzle."
"Has he said anything more about his trouble?" Mrs. Clyde asked.
"Just hints. But they sound as if he were hiding something pretty bad. Sometimes I wish he would come right out with it, and then again, I'm afraid. If he keeps on looking dark and broody every time the conversation turns on the subject of health, I'm going to write the General about it. I think that's my duty."
"But Alec looks wonderfully well, bigger, broader and better in every way than when he left Woodford," Mrs. Clyde insisted.
"I know he does. But when I remarked to Knight how well Alec looked, and said I thought he ought to get rid of his foolish notion about himself now, Knight looked queer and asked, 'Do you think it a foolish notion? I think he's dead right.' And Knight's a sensible boy and wouldn't say that unless he thought so."
