“Who’s that? Who’s that?” she demanded in a frightened tone, sitting suddenly bolt upright. “Where am I? Speak, will you?”
Wilfred turned again toward her. “Hit’s only London, Miss Vane,” he managed to say.
“You, Wilfred? What are you doing here? What am I doing here? Where are we?”
“Hin the summer’ouse, Miss Vane. You were sleepin’ ’ere, han’ I came in. Hi didn’t know you was ’ere, Miss Vane, honest, Hi didn’t, han’ Hi tried to leave without wakin’ yuh.”
She drew her fingers across her eyes. “I begin to remember,” she said. “I must have been dreaming. I thought—oh! a lot of strange things. But what are you doing here? Have you never gone home?”
“No, Miss Vane. That is, Hi ’ave no ’ome to go to, any more. Hi ’ave left Riles, left ’im for good an’ all. Hi ’ave left ’im, han’ I am goin’ away to the West to be a farmer myself. Han’ before Hi went Hi thought Hi would come along this wy han’ maybe Hi would see—that is, maybe Hi could sy good-bye to the boys.”
Myrtle rose and walked the few steps to where the boy stood leaning against the door. She looked very close in his face before speaking.
“Wilfred, do you mean this? Have you thought it all over? Are you sure of yourself?”
“Yes, Miss Vane, Hi am. Hi am goin’ to be a man, has other boys are men, Wy shouldn’t Hi? Hi am goin’ to the new land, w’ere the Gover’ment gives farms to those as will work ’em, han’ Hi am goin’ to work hout for money to do the himprovements. Hin three years Hi will ’ave a farm of my hown, han’ be has good a man has ’Iram Riles.” He ended with a defiant snap at those last words.
“A great deal better man, I hope,” she said. “The goodness of a man is not measured by his possessions, although that seems one of the hardest lessons for people to learn. Some One has said that he who ruleth his own spirit is greater than he who taketh a city. To control one’s ambition is greater than to realise one’s ambition. In the home of Riles I am afraid you have seen but little self-control in any form. Can you measure up to it when it is required of you?”