"Guardian dear, that's the beginning. Dale's right—they'll use it, if I let them pay. Why are you laughing at me?"
Cornelius Allendyce's face sobered. He drew the girl to him.
"I'm not laughing. I'm only marvelling at the leaps and bounds with which your education has gone forward. Some people die at an old age without acquiring one smallest part of the human understanding you are learning through these—notions—of yours."
Robin made a little face. "Notions! Beryl calls them 'crazy ideas.' Someone else called them an 'experiment.' Dear Mother Lynch is the only one who really believes in what I want to do. You see, I just want the people here to think that a Forsyth cares whether they're happy or not. Dale says I didn't start right and maybe I didn't—but anyway—"—She nodded toward the door as though Sophie might still be on the threshold, "they're a beginning!"
Her guardian did not answer this and looked so strange that Robin went no further in her confidences. Perhaps something had displeased him, she must wait until some other time to tell him about Dale and his model and her visit to Frank Norris.
Back in the library, before the crackling fire, Robin begged Beryl to play for her guardian.
"She's wonderful," she whispered while Beryl was getting the violin. "She makes you feel all funny inside."
Beryl stood in the shadow and played. Robin, watching her guardian, thrilled with satisfaction when the man's face betrayed that he, too, felt "all funny inside" under the magic of Beryl's bow.
"Come here, my girl," he commanded when Beryl stopped. He bent a searching look upon her. "Come here and sit down and tell me about yourself."
"Didn't I say she's wonderful?" chirped Robin, triumphantly.