“If you feel like that, why don’t you?”
“He won’t let me.”
“Share the glory then. Call ’em Spreckles in public, and Rapsons among ourselves.”
His simple old face lit up. “Believe you’ve solved it.” We returned to our place by the shed, from which we could watch the haze of evening drifting across the billowy uplands. In the village at our feet, cattle were being driven home lowing to the milking. On the common boys were playing cricket; their laughter came to us softened by distance.
“What made you ask me?” I said.
“Ask you? Ask you what?”
“To come and visit you.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not popular at Pope Lane at present; I believe you know the reason. Grandmother Cardover must have told Aunt Lavinia that this was going to happen. That was why you sent that letter to the ship to meet me.”
He looked shy and awkward, and drew his hat down over his brows; I knew that he was making up his mind not to answer.