She hastened across the floor, and bending over the boy kissed him on the forehead.
He flushed a little, put out his hand and laid it upon hers.
“Are you coming to stay with me?” he asked simply.
“It is for you to say, dear,” said Rhoda.
He moved his head slowly and looked at her with great intentness.
“I should like it very much,” he said. “What am I to call you?”
Rhoda threw a hasty glance at Sir Robert, who was standing by them, so intent in watching his son’s face that he took but little heed of the visitor. So she thought she might venture to give her name without fear of discovery. Since he had begun by non-recognition, it was better to go on without undeceiving him, she thought.
“Call me Rhoda,” she said softly.
He smiled at her. Though he was scarcely more than eight years old, his condition had made him older in many ways than his age, and his manner was almost that of a grown person as he said:
“Rhoda. Yes, I like that.”