“But no thanks to me. However, I am going to have a talk with Beth yet tonight. I shall not excuse myself; what is the worst thing in my own eyes, Christine, has been my cowardice in not facing the subject fairly long ago and telling Elizabeth that you were not in the least open to censure. The fault was all mine, but I have left you to bear the blame.”
This was so absolutely true that Mrs. Newby made no reply, but she looked at her husband with a very forgiving smile as she laid her hand on his.
“You are an angel, Christine. Some women would never forgive me.”
She laughed a little tremulously. “I know better, my dear, than to expect perfection from a poor, frail man. I am not an angel myself, as you know very well.”
“I don’t know it at all,” he retorted, bending to kiss her. “I hear Elizabeth in the drawing-room. I shall see her before she goes upstairs. Christine, you are perfectly happy now?”
“No,” she replied promptly, and evidently to his surprise.
“Then tell me the trouble at once.”
“I am worried about Roy. He is too young to be sent away to school. I presume it answers very well with some children, but he needs me.”
“But the public schools are so far away from us, dear, and I thought that he was hardly strong enough to stand the strain of the two sessions there. I did not know that you objected to his going. You said nothing, you know, to that effect.”
“You seemed so very sure that it was the right thing to do, and I did not know but it might turn out better than I feared. But he dreads the going back unspeakably. I found him crying about it last night, and I cannot consent to his return.”