John's soft heart forgave his stepmother's coldness towards his marriage and his bride, and prompted him to a generous suggestion. He made it shyly and earnestly one night in the drawing-room where Mildred Caniper sat under the picture of Mr. Pinderwell's lady.
"Notya," he began, "we want you to come to our wedding, too. Just you and Rupert and Daniel. Will you?"
She looked faintly amused, yet, the next moment, he had a fear that she was going to cry. "Thank you, John."
"We both want you," he said awkwardly, and went nearer.
"I'm glad you have asked me, but I won't come. I'm afraid I should only spoil it. I do spoil things." She smiled at him and looked at the hands on her knee. "It seems to me that that's what I do best."
He did not know what to say and, having made inarticulate noises in his throat, he went quickly to the schoolroom.
"Go to Notya, some one, and make her angry. She's being miserable in the drawing-room. Tell her you've broken something!"
"I won't," Miriam said. "I've had too much of that, and I'm going to enjoy the unwonted peace. You go, Helen."
"Leave her alone," Rupert advised. "You won't cure Notya's unhappiness so easily as that."
"When the summer comes—" Helen began, cheerfully deceiving herself, and John interrupted.