Mrs. Barclay hesitated; she looked worried.
"Please may he come?" Sheila Pat repeated.
"I should like him to go, dear, but—but—" Suddenly she bent down and kissed the serious little face passionately. "Be good to him, Sheila Pat! He isn't strong—he has a good deal to bear. Sometimes he gets into a bad temper, because he can't be quite like other boys. To-day he won't speak. He hasn't spoken since breakfast."
"Please may I go up to him?"
"Yes, dear. He is in the schoolroom."
She turned and walked staidly out into the hall, and opened the schoolroom door.
Stewart was huddled up in the window doing nothing.
"Good mornin'," she said.
He took no notice.
She tiptoed across the room, an oddly worried look on her small face.