‘But you’ve owned up now,’ was the only comforting thing even Caroline could think of in that terrible moment. Charles, as pale as Rupert, with his eyes quite round, said:
‘You couldn’t have!’
Charlotte said nothing.
‘I’d like you to understand,’ said Rupert miserably, ‘before I go away.’
‘Go away?’ said Charlotte quite as miserably. ‘Where?’
‘Back to Mr. Macpherson, of course. Your uncle won’t keep me after this.’
‘Did he say so?’
‘No, he said I was to come back to him when I’d taken Mr. Macpherson to the door. But I feel I must tell you first, in case he sends me off right away.’
‘Oh, Rupert,’ said Caroline, ‘I am so sorry!’ And then she did something rather heroic. She saw that Rupert wanted to say more, wanted it desperately, and that he could not possibly say it to all three of them together, though he could have told it to one of them, either to her or to Charlotte, if they had been alone. So Caroline got up and said: