"We were pleased when father telephoned that he was bringing you here," Hester continued. "It is very nice to have a girl about; I never had an intimate friend, because I never went to school, and that separates a girl a good deal from others—makes her not fit in when she is with them. Father said you had lots to tell me that was wonderful, all about your beautiful life, and your little grey house, and that you weren't like the general run of girls of our age either. Please try to like me—father wants you to; I can see that."
"See it over the telephone?" laughed Rob, rather embarrassed by this appeal. "I'd do harder things for your father than that, after to-day! He has been heavenly kind, and made me believe I have been right, and brave, and wise when I was half frightened to death lest my obstinacy had ruined my family."
"That sounds mysterious, and positively thrilling," Hester declared. "But as to father, he is fine—you can't imagine how I love him!"
"Yes, I can," said Rob, with a quiver in her voice that brought a flush to Hester's cheeks.
"Oh, I beg your pardon—I didn't mean to speak of father to you," she cried. "But he told me you had been your father's comfort and help, and were now the only one to understand and fulfil his desires—save his reputation, I think he said. Now, maybe you are more fortunate than I, for I am no use at all, and I never shall do anything for my father in all my life, probably. I think that is worse than your sorrow."
"You can't help doing for him if you love him," said Rob, rather at a loss to answer this morbid speech, yet recognizing the tactful kindness prompting it. "It is all he wants, to know that you are good and love him. Patergrey loved my love for him more than my help on the machine. But it does comfort me to know I did help, and if your father really thinks I'm saving the day for dear Patergrey's invention now I shall almost learn after a while not to be sorry, but half glad that he is happy, and that I did something for him when he couldn't do it himself."
"Oh, yes," cried Hester, with conviction. "I think I shouldn't feel badly if I were you—I don't mean I shouldn't miss him, but you have been your father's comfort. It is perfectly dreadful to be of no use."
"Everybody is of use, I guess," said Rob. "And the best ones don't know it. What a lovely room!"
"Is it?" said Hester. "I don't care much for it—I'd like a little house in the country. I think maybe I shall go into a college settlement when I'm old enough."
"Dear me," thought Rob, "what a queer girl! She ought to do housework, and bother about money for a while, and then she'd find out!" But she only said: "You'd like the little grey house, then. It's old-fashioned, and not a bit handsome, but it is dear, and Fayre is a small place—country enough."