“You may well be that,” said Rose Aviolet, with tears in her eyes. “I seem to be always making a fool of myself—if it isn’t one thing, it’s another. But I don’t mind being told by you, because you’re so kind. I’ll try and remember what you said about talking about people.”
“That will be very nice of you. Perhaps you’ll take me for another walk, some day. I should like it very much if you would.”
“I’d like it, too,” said Rose. “You aren’t going away for a few days, are you?”
“I’m afraid I must be off to-morrow. My boy will be home, and I don’t want to miss too much of his holidays. He and I are very great friends, I’m glad to say.”
“Is he like you?”
“No, I don’t think so. One of these days I hope you’ll see him, Mrs. Aviolet. I should like you to bring Cecil over to Charlesbury, and let the two little lads make friends.”
“Thank you very much. I often wish Ces had more to do with other children. I think it would be good for him.”
“One does feel that, with an only child. Hugh has improved in every possible way since he’s been with other boys.”
“At school, you mean?”
“Yes.”