‘She has met him on the stairs and in the garden, but she has her meals here. I trust by the time her Easter holidays are over I may be fit to go back with her. But I do hope I may be able to copy a bit of that picture first, though, any way, I can never forget it.’
‘To go on as before?’ exclaimed Gillian, with an interrogative sigh of wonder.
‘If that notice of dismissal can be revoked,’ said Kalliope.
But would you like it—must you?’
‘I should like to go back to my girls,’ said Kalliope; ‘and things come into my head, now I am doing nothing, that I want to work out, if I might. So, you see, it is not at all a pity that I must.’
And why is it must?’ said Gillian wistfully. ‘You have to get well first.’
Yes, I know that; but, you see, there are Maura and Petros. They must not be thrown on Alexis, poor dear fellow! And if he could only be set free, he might go on with what he once hoped for, though he thinks it is his duty to give all that entirely up now and work obediently on. But I know the longing will revive, and if I only could improve myself, and be worth more, it might still be possible.’
‘Only you must not begin too soon and work yourself to death.’
‘Hardly after such a rest,’ said Kalliope. ‘It is not work I mind, but worry’—and then a sadder look crossed her for a moment, and she added, ‘I am so thankful.’
‘Thankful?’ echoed Gillian.