"I could not get out of the way of it, because I had called her that so many years before I gave myself up. That makes it seem different. But you—what must I call you?"
"I don't see what's left—unless you call me 'Say'!"
"I must have something to call you," she pleaded. "Would you mind if I called you by your Christian name?"
"I should like nothing better."
He drew forward a volume of Mrs. Browning's poems which lay among his books on the table, opened it at the fly-leaf, and pointed to his name.
"'Walter'?" read Tillie. "But I thought—"
"It was Pestalozzi? That was only my little joke. My name's Walter."
On the approach of Sunday, Fairchilds questioned her one evening about Absalom.
"Will that lad be taking up your whole Sunday evening again?" he demanded.
She told him, then, why she suffered Absalom's unwelcome attentions. It was in order that she might use her influence over him to keep the teacher in his place.