“Yes; he went to try and get a fish. But there is too much sun.”
“I am delighted to hear it,” said Frank.
“I think I am, too, really,” she said. “But I do like the dear boy to be pleased.”
“Well, I hope we are all going to please him,” said he. “For the combined armies are going to advance and rescue him. Lord Flintshire, Lady Sunningdale, and, in my own humble manner, myself, are all going to try to get your father to allow him to study music in earnest. In fact, I am a sort of skirmisher in advance of the heavy—of the main body. It is my business to bring on the general engagement by asking him to stay with me in London, and bringing some people, who really know, to hear him play.”
Helen turned a radiant face on him.
“Ah, that is good of you,” she said; “and it is really angelic of me to feel that, as I shall be left here all alone.”
“But the scheme includes you. Lady Sunningdale is writing to you to ask you to come up with him and stay with her for a week or two. I hope you will say ‘Yes.’”
Helen gave a long sigh, as Moses, perhaps, sighed on Pisgah.
“I don’t know if I could manage it,” she said, “though it would be heavenly. Perhaps, as Aunt Clara comes back in a day or two, I could leave father. But I don’t know. Oh, I should enjoy it,” she cried.
“I expect you have a very fine faculty for enjoyment,” said he.