Quoth Frederick, utterly unmoved:
“They would be happier at school.”
“They would be miserable there. Two spoilt, uneducated, delicate children. They’d be hopelessly out of their element.”
“Not so much so as they will be here.”
Bertha Tregaskis, her face suffused with agitation, began to pace up and down the room.
“Of course, if you won’t keep them, you won’t. But I don’t pretend to see your point of view.”
“You oughtn’t to have the responsibility.”
“If you’re thinking of all I have to do,” she returned in softened tones, “I’ll manage somehow. It’s better to wear out than to rust out, and it’s little enough one can do. But as long as there’s life in me, my motto will always be the old one: ‘Lend a hand.’”
“That is precisely where I anticipate danger.”
“What danger?” she demanded sharply.