He looked into her honest, gallant eyes and blessed her; he blessed her for her courage; and he might have kissed her if he had thought about it. He told her about the boy’s delicacy and the doctor’s orders. She asked him one question:
“If you hadn’t met me, could you have lived with him in the country?”
“Oh, no!” said Horace. “I couldn’t get up to town and back from Mallows for my work--we should have had to be parted.”
They were both silent for a little, then she drew his hand up against her cheek.
“We’ll go down all your holidays to Mallows,” she said. “Every single one, Horace!”
“But don’t you--don’t you mind?” he stammered, puzzled.
Edith turned her eyes on his, still smiling.
“We’ve got to mind,” she murmured; “but may I just see him first?”
“Yes, of course, to-morrow,” said Horace quickly. “I think the whole thing’s rather devilish, you know, Edith. I can’t quite follow it. They never told me before about the little chap, and they seem to have turned him against the very idea of you and all that, you know; and he’s such a loving little fellow really, and he said he wanted to go away and leave me--”
Horace’s voice broke and Edith winced. She looked away from him, and he recovered himself in a moment.